Lost The Plot

I don't think ever explained how or why I picked the name for this blog. At the time of creating it, I had already been thinking about my film and wondering about how the plot would unfold. What would the plot be? I've been reading Ronald B. Tobias' 20 Master Plots, a very helpful book that I definitely recommend, and I remember how he mentioned that there has been a degree of dispute over how many plots there are but, when it all boils down to it, there is only one.

 Our theme of dislocation, as I've stated before, is great. According to The Free Dictionary, it is disruption, disturbance and disorder, my initial reaction being reminded of chaos. In its thesaurus, it is described as 'an event that results in a displacement or discontinuity', and 'the act of disrupting an established order so it fails to continue', so it's a breakdown; a discontinuation of something. This is always interesting to watch at a safe distance.

Daily life is full of chaos, no matter how much we plan ahead. On the other hand, fiction contains reason. That is to say, there is always reason for the breakdown or discontinuity of certain events in fictitious work. It helps to spice up the story, and we watch on for a resolution, to be satisfied by how the new equilibrium comes about. Of course, that is generally how most stories should be structured, noting Todorov's equilibrium theory, which is how The News and commercial breaks would put their respective stories and commercials in a particular order because they want their audience feeling good at the end of the showing, but also ease them into the less cheery stories or commercials.

The stages in Todorov's Narrative Theory.
Often reduced to three: Equilibrium>Dis-equilibrium>New Equilibrium

 The initial equilibrium is the normal state of which the story and characters within are used to. The disequilibrium being the event that causes disruption of this, and the new-equilibrium is when everything has been resolved, or the story is wrapped up. Nothing will ever be the same again though because of the disruption, hence the word 'new'. Considering these stages, they generalise themselves into beginning, middle, and end, respectively. They are good structures to abide by, but sometimes we don't like writing necessarily happy stories, which is what the theory may suggest on the surface. Personally, I'm a fan of the bittersweet ending, but we can still make it work without daunting the audience. It just takes a lot more thought.

 This is a very basic structure for creating a story. How the beginning, middle, and end will unfold will highly depend on a combination of the plot, archetypal characters, and the genre of the piece. From there, you flesh it all out to give off the illusion of uniqueness. We need to follow rules in order to make something work, but we can go our own way about it, again, as long as it works and works well.

 Tzvetan Todorov wasn't the only essayist to theorise about the structure of story or plot. Mythologist and writer, Joseph Campbell, laid down a more fleshed out version known as The Hero's Journey. From looking at the fables of religions from all over the world, he concluded that there was a template to all those figures, such as Jesus of Nazareth of the Hebrew faith, Krishna of Hinduism, The Ten Labours of Heracles'  of Greek myth, etc., noticing a common pattern among them. This sparked off the idea of character archetypes.

The illusion of uniqueness for each story can be cleverly instilled in an audience by using a combination of ingredients. These ingredients are characters, plot, and genre. When it all boils down to it, there is only one plot; The Hero's Journey. The main reason as to why they change over time is so they can appeal to its contemporary audience. In order to connect with the characters on screen, we must find ourselves thrust into a recognisable world; one of which we can easily relate to and perhaps compare with our own lives. As they say, even the likes of Star Wars and The Lord of the Rings contain elements and characters that we can get onto the same level with. I can't really say the same about the soaps but that's beside the point.

 We're all on the same journey, but every individual story is told in its own unique way, even if the general premise is the same as another. I used a reference from Victoria Lynn Schmidt's book, 45 Master Characters, like I've probably mentioned somewhere before. I based my character, Barney, off the character archetype named after Greek god of the Sea, Poseidon. The character is an internal sea of emotions and, using his traits of both good and bad, it helped me to flesh out a story and his personal journey of battling his own inner demons and how it affects those around him.

As Easy As Pitching A Tent

Gosh, I don't know what I'm talking about; I never even learnt how pitch a tent.

 Before we properly went into production, we were tasked with pitching our film ideas. We were allowed to be as quirky as possible. I looked up pitch ideas in this regard and found nothing but pitches where the film maker simply talked about their idea. Even on the 'how to's written by executives who have to listen to pitches said that they much preferred pitches where the person just speaks. They said that, otherwise, they just think the person is loopy. Er.

 This didn't particularly fuel me with enthusiasm on the matter. You do, of course, want your pitch to be memorable but, at the same time, you do want the person you're pitching it to to know (or at least think) you're sane. That said, like anything in life, it highly depends on the person you're dealing with, the order that you came in, and the time of day I suppose. Mostly the person you're dealing with though and, in this case, it was our tutor.

 I wasn't going to go ahead with a full on marionette show like the one instance described by an executive in a list that I found. I decided just to go with a simple mood board, to help me pinpoint exactly what I was going to talk about at the time.

 It took me about a week working on the mood board, so I certainly found my enthusiasm again from somewhere. A week seems like an awful lot of time to work on a mood board of all things, but I ended up turning it into a bit of an arts and crafts project. It wasn't over the top, but (hopefully) it would certainly make the pitching process a lot more memorable (and it did!).

 Seeing as there was a rubber duck mentioned in my script (don't ask), I thought I'd go ahead and make the mood board in the shape of one, then, just as the script describes (though this aspect was later omitted due to time restraints, unfortunately), I decorated him to look like a private detective. He has a tweed trilby, a blazer and a tie. Oh my God, I had too much fun making him. Except, just before going into the pitch, I was gutted when I realised I had completely forgotten to stick craft buttons on his shirt. Ah well.

 He was very well received and the pitch went very, very well, so it was totally worth it. Caoimhe, my producer, was in with me and spoke about what we had planned production wise, such as what equipment we were going to use, where we were going to shoot, and who was acting for us. I, on the other hand, talked about the mood board itself; how I wrote the character and the inspirations I drew from and the sort of themes I wanted to use, such as colour, for example. I think Caoimhe was very embarrassed by the duck though (sorrynotsorry).

Bright Light! Bright Light!

I thought that because I'm doing a film noir pastiche that it'd be worth checking out a bunch of lighting techniques for it. I also got a book on Film Noir that introduces you to the genre.

 The book I'm talking about gives an introduction to the french genre of the '30s, informing you of the codes and conventions that you'll often come across. For example, a troubled protagonist, crime themes, femme fatales, private eye detective, etc. Originally I wanted my story resonating around a femme fatale, but I had to end up scrapping her entirely. But that's quite alright. A new story for a new day when I have longer than five minutes to tell it more effectively, but it's interesting how my story evolved throughout this process.

 Anyway, a major part of the genre is the lighting style. I have my troubled protagonist so I need to bring that across with the visuals as much as I possibly can. The reason that comedy is so high key and brightly lit is to assure the audience that we aren't hiding anything from them. What you see is what you get. Not with the likes of horror or noir styled films. Or, if it's a hybrid, it's knowing when to use which lighting style for what scenes.

 It's the scenes that Barney, my troubled protagonist, is lost in his own little world where I want to exploit these noir lighting conventions. I want him shrouded in the shadows but lit in a provoking sort of way. There is a lot of talk of venison blinds that I wanted to incorporate, to suggest the character peeking out into the world without really entering it, simply out of curiosity's sake. There was a board we could have used in the studio before, but it appears to have gone walkies, so that won't be getting used, sadly.

I found the video above ages ago and it came in incredibly handy. It's highly informative and helpful. The speaker even dresses up as a stock character for his video!

 Creating the set for Barney's imagination was to look fake. Not too fake, but we know it's not real. Shrouded in shadows but Barney would be lit up enough to be seen, but to be seen in an intimidating sort of way; the way that Noir Barney wants to come across. But, his character being deeply troubled and insecure, the darkness that he's shrouded in suggests he's being consumed by said personal issues.

Deconstructing Tim Burton's 'Dark Shadows'

I've always held a soft spot for Tim Burton's work. It's eerily magical, and magically eerie but there's nothing to be scared of so long as you allow yourself to embrace it. Like opening a story book when you were a child before bed to escaping the real world to experience this larger than life world. You're left with a notion of sadness, longing to go back to the magical realm of your bed time story, when you close that book shut for the night.

 Tim Burton brings together a group of a people who really complement one another in style, producing these story book like films. Danny Elfman brings the atmosphere alive with his enchanting scores, and the likes of Colleen Atwood places each character in their own special spotlight with her charming costumes. Dark Shadows (2012) is no exception.

 An adaptation of a soap opera that started in the '60s, Dark Shadows focuses on the character of Barnabas Collins, an aristocrat of the 18th Century who was cursed by a former lover to walk the earth as a vampire to ensure his eternal suffering.

 Each major character stands out with their own set of colours; certain features help to illuminate them. Eva Green who plays Angelique Bouchard is the femme fatale of the story;

It's the quirky colours that attracted me to this apparent box office failure. Tim Burton's story book style resonating in this like in every other one of his films, emphasising the faslsehood of the world that the story takes place in. It's fake and you know it, but something just draws you in. Maybe it's that want of escapism of the real world that does it.

 It's Tim Burton's quirky story book look and feeling that is, again, elevated by Danny Elfman's musical score, bringing it all to life, that I really admire. It's certainly something that I would want to try to carry over in my projects.

Evaluation of the process

This has been a pretty fun process despite some of the hurdles we ran into. It's got me thinking a lot about how I would do things differently next time and how to plan.

 One thing that I really wanted to to do, which would have helped, I think, tremendously in the role of director, is having rehearsals. We did have a read through with Barney and Candid (Chris and Michael K) before we decided who would be who (and I think the right decision was made in that department). It certainly helped me in the role of the writer at least, so I could reword certain parts of dialogue so it would make more sense or just sound more fluid and natural. But I still really wish we had rehearsals. That's the bother with having four actors in the one scene. Eesh.

 Directing the actors and engaging with them to help give you the best performance they can is actually quite rewarding in a way. Some actors certainly need more direction than others, whereas some barely need any at all. I suppose it goes straight back to finding the time for rehearsals so you can get the actual shoot done as quickly as possible.

 A few times, excluding read throughs and discovering issues there, there had been necessities to rewrite or rework parts of a scene. We had to completely omit a character (who was the 'voice of reason' in Barney's head essentially) entirely because of just how difficult it was to get them. Thankfully, it was easy enough to adapt as it wasn't a major character that we were missing; we just used a 'key object' or prop as sorts that recurred throughout the script as a replacement of that.

 I would say that the exterior scene, the one where the characters of Barney and Candid are skipping stone, was the most difficult scene to shoot, purely due to the conditions. It wasn't raining or anything like that thankfully, but having to deal with wind being picked up despite using a windshield and forcing us to dub over the scene in the edit, and the difficulty of getting to the tide and back and vice versa was a little bit of a challenge.

That and the final scene. The final scene where Barney tries skipping stones himself after his realisation or 'awakening' I suppose you could say, was far too dark and had to be reshot. The plan was to use a couple of large halogen bulb torches so the night scene was possible but, unfortunately, I just didn't have the money at the time (this shot just before our loans came in so I couldn't have given the film a slight budget like I'd previously wanted to). Needing to be reshot simply as a day scene was needed to tackle this problem, but I also wanted to do it with the torches once I got them. I had an LED torch, but it was quite a small one, so it looked obvious that we were shining a torch in Chris' face. So, from that, I knew it could be done, but it was just tricky. Too dark, and the scene just looks like a grainy mess. That's one of the major problems with exterior scenes at night; trying to find good, decent light sources that are battery powered.

 If I had the time and the money, there is so much that I would have done differently. I'm dead happy with how everything has turned out so far, having a good crew helping to get things done, like Caoimhe on producing, Andy on camera, and Matt on both sound and camera at certain times, it definitely turned out looking really, really well. It's just needing more time to prep far more thoroughly rather than having to 'just do it' and being able to reshoot certain parts if needed a lot easier. Problems can arise at the last second but it's just knowing that it isn't the end of the world or knowing that it can be easily tackled if you hold onto that drive to keep going with the project is that you need. The same message the film sends out.

The Production Processes

Wow, it's so easy to lose track of the blog when you really get into filming the project.

 I'm just gonna use this particular post to show some of the actual production stages of my film Duck and Cover (thank you, Scott)!

The most difficult parts of any shoot, as I have found with every project so far like ever, is getting your hands on (reliable) actors and locations. Then you need to work these guys around a date and hope to goodness that nothing sabotages it in whatever way, shape or form.

From already personally knowing actors, it certainly made the search a fair bit easier. Getting them all free at the same time, however, is a completely different hurdle. Especially when the particular scene they're situated in is only available to us on one day at certain times for a couple of hours only. That said, it was a dream breeze getting the cafe scene, Barney's place of (voluntary) work, for us to film in (thanks, Calvin!). The main issue with that scene is picking up the hum of the fridge while recording dialogue. This, along with the exterior beach scene where it was far too windy even with a windshield as it turned out, should be overcome with a dubbing session. Just, as I said, trying to find a time when all (or, at the very least, most) of the actors are free to do this. Dubbing can be the end of it, as watching many a film on The Horror Channel has taught me.

Thankfully scenes that took place in Barney's head were readily available to us. Just as well too as we had a nifty lighting grid to work with to help us create the film noir effect that we wanted, as well as having room to move about the dolly and slider (thanks, Stephen) to give us slicker and more professional looking shots, adding so much more to the cinematic effect. Dead, dead happy with how those turned out, so a shout out and big thank you to Matt for that very productive day.

 The first of anything that we recorded were the narration segments with Barney (Chris Girvin) and Doug (Michael Warren) with Matt, our sound guy.

When brought into the edit suite along with the footage of the studio shoot, it all came together so nicely; it feels so alive and I'm very pleased with that.

The Bones Of It (Part II)

 Our tutor for this unit, Sharron, gave us a proposal sheet about a month ago. Basically, it's asking us about the key features on how to structure our film. Here's mine, although bear with me that it's in mostly note form:

• Original Thought (Initial Idea)

Use of unreliable narrator - narrator/voice over; Visual contrast between reality and imagination by playing with the codes and conventions of the pioneering genre of French film noir by employing a pastiche approach to neo-noir;

• Characters (names, descriptions, personal profile, sketches, etc.)

Barney and Candid as the protagonist and deutagonist respectively. Their character structures stem from inspiration drawn from Victoria Lynn Schmidt's book on 45 Master Characters. The character archetypes employed for Barney is The Artist, based on the Greek god of the sea, Poseidon. Candid's character comes from a supporting archetype known as The Shadow, who is used to personify the troubles of the protagonist.

•  Story (start, middle, end/conflict & resolution)

(i) The situation and fantasy aspect in regards to the character of Barney is establish, where we find out his setting, his aspirations, and generally how he reacts and deals with people and his demons;

(ii) Barney gets himself into a secret casual relationship that he tells us about, but believes it will hinder his future prospects and thus it begins to deteriorate. Between this and hiding away from Candid, he pushes everyone away, too self-centred to care how he affects those around him. It only takes so long before it all takes its toll on him;

(iii) Barney, upon pushing everyone he cared about away from him, reflects on himself and his life, his actions, his feelings and emotions. He acknowledges that it is probably too late to fix what he has just ruined, but takes it upon himself to learn from this experience and use it to better guide him for his future. He ends his story on a bittersweet note with a glimmer of hope.

•  Genre

Neo-noir pastiche; comedy-drama 

•  Audience
• Why You Think This Is A Good Idea

Can easily relate to the protagonist involved; a message that we should thrive to be the best that we can be, and to not allow our insecurities to consume us until it is almost too late just as Barney did.

The Bones Of It (Part I)

After about fifteen posts, I think it's about time I told you what my short film will entail, eh? I'm pretty good at elongating this process, although I've put a lot of thought and research into my sub-themes, so it's certainly worth nailing it down now and sharing the idea.


 It's always been hard for me to talk about my ideas without dancing around the point (nothing new there, really). I often feel very uncomfortable and lose confidence that it will ever form into something more solid and grounding. I guess they're always quite personal and it can be rather intimidating to share it. Of course though, you fictionalise it, giving it a nice, good balance between real life and imagination.

 What it boils down to, my protagonist, Barney, has to learn to face his fears. He's too scared to fight them off and is reluctant to do so because facing them means admitting that there is something wrong. For years I struggled to admit to myself that I had insecurities and woes that needed addressing, and it's still difficult. The personal aspect that the film holds to me, I suppose, makes it hard to try to discuss in this way but, at the same time, a fair few who have read my character profile on Barney could relate quite well to him, even asking me if I had based him on them.

 Nobody wants to admit that they are in a bad place mentally. In the short term, it's easier to just brush them away and ignore them. In the long term, however, it begins to take its toll on us, and we take it out on other people in some form or another. What we need to realise is that we should work through it, not ignore it, because it only gets bigger then, and will take control of us. And we end up losing everything eventually, whether it's people or our ourselves, and ultimately our mind.

 Often, we either try to shut ourselves out completely, or fantasise about a more ideal us. In this case, Barney, who takes great joy in writing short stories when he isn't too busy, imagines himself as a more confident and more in control individual. Big and in charge. He soon adopts this mental alter ego as his own little facade, but ends up highlighting a more prideful and self-centred version of his admired character to everyone else around him. The ones who know him well soon catch on and are infuriated by this as he begins to treat them poorly. Soon, they leave, forcing Barney to actually face his demons.


 I'm going to be posting more research I've done to go towards this, as well as expanding on certain aspects of it, such as posting the character profiles, the beat sheet maybe, and looking into films that I want to gain inspiration from in regards to codes and conventions of its genre. Speaking of which, I'll have to go into detail about why I chose the genres that I did.

We Laugh 'Cause We're Dicks

During the first semester of this year, we were looking at comedy and exactly why we laugh at things. Pretty interesting to look into because you soon realise that laughter is essentially a form of stress release. It's more evident in some people than others. Anyway, I think it's best to talk about comedy and farce before I go any further, so there's that out of the way.

 Essentially laughter is a reaction to, for example, the breakdown of normality. If it's not something that we're used to, we laugh at it as a form of corrective towards it. It's a social activity as well, so it's sheep laughing at the goat for being different and therefore weird and foreign to them, pretty much. It's incredibly cruel in that sense, but it also relieves stress for us. When you laugh, you generally feel pretty good, right? My old ICT teacher used to laugh all the time. Even when you were in trouble, she'd laugh at you. I heard her note herself that it was a nervous reaction to a situation. Basically, it's how she dealt with a slightly stressful situation. Not overly stressful, but somewhat. People deal with small amounts of stress in different ways; some obsessively rub their hands together, some hum, others - they laugh.

 I was tasked with writing a seminar paper entitled Is Comedy The Acceptable Face of Cruelty? back in November, and I think I ought to share it. It's solid enough and it talks about Henri Bergson, a French philosopher, who came up with a theory of laughter. Anything I missed in the seminar that I want to cover here, I'll try to go into detail after:

When inebriated, we are stripped of all rational and logical thinking and, depending on the extent, we are devolved back into a primitive state. If given the simplest of tasks, chances are, we will probably fail; we enter automatic mode, and mechanically attempt to complete said task, but we will be unable to adapt to the situation if any new obstacles are presented. Onlookers will cruelly laugh at the stupidity and inability to conform.

 An automatism is a 'being', so to speak, that is programmed to perform a certain task(s). However, it cannot adapt to its surroundings or the specific situation it winds up in; its evolution is stumped and therefore cursed in its default state. In other words, [it is] a stupid being, as anyone with a grain of intelligence could find they are abe to work around new obstacles that appear before them, whereas a programmed machine cannot. 

 Laughter is, in essence, the joy we receive from others' misfortune, particularly when we are devoid from consequence or guilt over the situation. For example, if someone falls and we don't see the aftermath say, we feel no sympathy for the person in question and can laugh completely guilt-free as it did not happen to us. Often in comedy, when what would be dangerous in real life feats are performed, the character walks away completely unscathed. The Plank is full of hazards where each and every character walks away as if nothing happened, and we can therefore laugh guilt-free. This complies to part of Bergson's theory of the emotional detachment we can endure.

 Laughing at the expense of others' misfortune is a cruel reaction to undertake. Laughter is, as Bergson states in [his Theory of Laughter], a social stigma; when these social norms are broken, we find it absurd, and so we laugh. It can come about when witnessing an unexpected situation as well; it breaks away from the social norm that we are so used to. We, as a society, have set up a structure for ourselves to work within; again, we laugh at situations wherein this structure has been broken. There can be a degree of dramatic irony surrounding the character who suffers when we view such happenings in comedy. We, as an audience, know fine well that the character in question is in for a bad time, which can simply add to the hilarity of the situation.

 When we laugh at the poor fool, it can be considered a type of punishment, or a corrective as such. As [A Drunk Demonstrates Henri Bergson's Theory of Laughter by Jonathan Lyons] states. 'if someone laughs at you, you tend to stop what you are doing', which is true in every which way; punishment via embarrassment. There is sheer intent of humiliation in laughter; [it is] never, ever innocent.

 To an extent, laughter is usually a reaction to the result of witnessing something that does not conform to the norm; usually a misfortune that occurs to another where we are devoid from feelings of sympathy towards the victim. Bergson communicates his theory of laughter very well, and I agree with every word he says about it. We will no doubt laugh at anything that isn't deemed normal or wise to us. It's a reaction to when something logical breaks down and has everything to do with logic and absurdity and, as he said, 'we laugh at people or the things they do' so long as we are able to maintain 'a detached or an emotional distance' from the situation.

 I will be quoting Bergson a lot from now on. In fact, I may already have done so, maybe even very, very recently. So what it all boils down to, is that laughter is a cruel corrective or 'punishment via embarrassment' to make the person stop what they're doing. However, remember I said earlier that laughing makes us feel good? Because it's a stress-relief? It's a protective barrier that we use to guard us from our own anxieties; laughter, helping us to diminish the traumatic or stressful event that is occurring to us, as according to Why We Laugh. It's also rather contagious, in that when one person laughs, another may start, and so on and so forth, which adds more anchorage to the fact that it is a social activity, generally speaking.

 As I mentioned in my recent post, Unlucky Number Seven, farce is a type of comedy, incorporating a more physical side of comedy (known as slapstick), and is often quite crude; aiming below the belt. Where I don't want to base my short film solely around piss and fart jokes, I find absolutely nothing wrong with the aul' bedroom farce; dick joke galore. Maybe I'm just a pervert, but let's just leave it at that.

Anyway, I wanted to get the theory of laughter out of the way before I went on to talk about the relationship between laughter and sin. In Unlucky Number Seven, I did talk about some of the rules of farce, regarding an exploitation of 'appetites and follies of the average human being' in particular which, again, is what sinning all boils down to, really. But I also noticed that our laughing punishment towards those who do not conform, in regards to sinners, is actually a vicious, sinful circle.

A Deconstruction of Wes Anderson's 'The Darjeeling Limited'

 Last week in class, Sharron stuck on Wes Anderson's The Darjeeling Limited for us to watch. I talked about it very briefly in my post about its accompanying short, Hotel Chevaleir, which was originally a stand alone film. To break from my usual big-worded analytical language for just a moment, it was fuckin' amazeballs.

 Again, it links directly back to our theme of dislocation. It surrounds the three Whitman brothers. Francis, Peter, and Jack, who are estranged from their mother who had become a nun, with their own strained relationship from each other that they must deal with as they go on the search for her. Throughout the film, we see elements of lack of trust between that family, from as big as deceiving one another to their own extent & reasons to simply just not wanting to talk about their problems with one another. Hilariously and articulately done, The Darjeeling Limited reels you in with laughs, tugs on your heart strings just a touch, and leaves you feeling a bit more hopeful towards the world through both story and Anderson's use of colour that really stands out. Stunningly beautiful.

 I love these types of films; stock full of meaningful symbolism to really break down. It doesn't completely treat the audience as a pack of numbnuts, but instead allows your mind to wander to an extent, so see the subconscious clues in the surroundings, be it to do with colour or the metaphorical train journey that the characters embark on, hinting that there is a lot more going on in the characters' minds.

 Firstly, I admire the use of vibrant, pop art like colour that Wes Anderson features in his films. It's not quite real life, but it intends to highlight real issues that goes on with us. Most prominent are the colours yellow and blue on the train to and from the brothers' destination respectively. Yellow, an Eastern colour of optimism, wealth, and reason (the film is set in India) is a tip of the hat to the well off passengers of The Darjeeling Limited, and a sign of hopefulness in regards to the journey of the brothers. However, in Western culture, yellow is often a signifier of envy and betrayal, highlighting the brothers' broken relationship with one another. This juxtaposition really gets your gears going, trying to figure out what's going on in the minds of the Whitman boys; Francis, the eldest of the three, indicating that their journey is to be one of self-discovery after his near death experience, which is later revealed to be a failed suicide attempt. He comes off as the in control brother - or, at least, wants to be seen as such - yet is so broken on the inside, he felt the need to end his life.

 Blue, on the other hand, is a universal colour of clear skies, harmony, and faithfulness, which is a primary part of the colour scheme of the train on the way back. There is no juxtaposition of two potential meanings; everything is as clear as the blue sky with faithfulness restored between the brothers. There is a new harmony within them.

 Again with the colour yellow, it is continuously presented in Anderson's films; evident in the short Hotel Chevaleir, the parent of the feature The Darjeeling Limited; also with many other themes and references revisited and repeated. For example, the story of the youngest Whitman brother, Jack, which stuck out to me the most. We learn that he is a victim of love, especially clear having watched the short prior to the feature. The delicacy and consideration that he treats Rita with, the train stewardess that he had a fling with, a repetition of the Peter Sarsdedt song Where Do You Go To (My Lovely) while he sits with her, waiting on her outside the WC and insisting on a first name basis with one another, despite Rita's reactions implying that she sees it as nothing more than a fling. His short story that he keeps reading out to his brothers, up until the end of the film where he insists that the characters are completely fictional, features elements from his life that have impacted on him greatly. The cold reactions that he gave his ex-girlfriend in particular, a small indication that he is beginning to move on.

 The characters went on a journey of recovering their trust for one another; allowing their relationship to grow and heal. It was a bumpy journey no doubt, but they made it in the end, becoming stronger, able to gradually and comfortably open up with one another. We see it visually as well, the dislocated fraternal relationship having calmed on their way home. Beautifully symbolic, it's a touching film that reels you in with laughs, ensuring your comfort before it lays upon you a very real communication issue for you to think about for yourself.

 Loved every minute of it.

Unucky Number Seven

Several posts back, I started talking about flaws. I had to stop there so I could post about the roles I was wanting to adopt for the project (that I'm subsequently getting marked on, so they had to be done), as well as about a screening. I was nearly going to post about The Darjeeling Limited before this post, but I thought I'd just do it after so we can recap a bit first.

 Anyway, after having received the theme of 'dislocation', as I mentioned before, it made me think of chaos, you know, not being in control of the situation around you, for example. I used the video game The Path to talk about one of the master plots I found in Ronald B. Tobias' book 20 Master Plots, which was the maturation plot. Growing up, essentially; a form of the transformation plot. I had ended that post talking about flaws, and what they are exactly, to lead onto this one.

 So what are flaws? They are human follies that are certainly not to be admired, but are quite often the topic of discussion. Whether we are talking about our own weaknesses that must be improved upon or abolished altogether, or gossiping about the faults of others as a means to distract ourselves from our own which, ipso facto, is a fault stemming from pride.

 One of our big projects this year is to adapt a Michael Frayn monologue into a cinematic piece. If you recognise the name at all, you'll straight away realise that he is a farce writer. So why am I talking about farce? One of the codes and conventions of farcical comedy is that, according to James Simmons in his article About The Playwright: Georges Feydeau, it "concentrates on the apetites and follies of the average human being caught in a net devised by his or her own foolishness". In other words, farce exploits the uncontrolled human desires and faults in the name of comedy. When we were looking at this in class, I was instantly reminded of the seven deadly sins, a Christian ethic to educate its followers in steering clear of sin. At its core, the seven deadly sins had merely stemmed from the most basic of human traits, feelings, appetites and follies. Essentially, it is presented clearly in people who allow their desires to become their faults, taking a hold of them.

 I wanted to further research into the seven deadly sins. Although it comes from mediecal Christian theology, they are, no doubt, generally pretty good rules to at the very least take into consideration. Who actually wants their wrath to control their lives, ruining every relationship they have, ultimately being alone? Who actually wants to be that one arrogant bastard who takes pride in belittling others around them so they, in their minds, look the best? Those people aren't going to stick around for very long to keep that pride going for the sinner, so to speak.

 I looked into the Christian detox book by Graham Tomlin, The Seven Deadly Sins: How To Overcome Life's Most Toxic Habits. At first, I was unsure whether or not to bother as I wanted a neutral book that looked into the topic, but I caved and got it. Boy, was I pleasantly surprised! Of course, there is God-talk because, at the end of the day, it is a book to aid Christians in their lifestyles. But it's also very down to earth - kinda literally - in that it tries to level with the reader, and understands these sins may appear to be "naughty but nice" to a lot of people.

 Tomlin goes on to explain that "each sin always has at its heart something good" and that therefore "sin is always a subtle corruption of something essentially good". The point that Tomlin is making is that sin, being evil, takes something that is good and innocent, and twists and distorts it into something bad; something evil and sinful. He explains that it "simply twists, caricatures and destroys", being unable to actually create anything original.

 Whether you are Christian or not, have a religion, identify as either Atheist or Agnostic like myself, there is no point in denying that they are quite a good set of rules to live by. Sure, sex is great but allowing lust to take over is not. Sure, it's great to relax and all that jazz, but it most certainly isn't very beneficial to you at all to lie in bed every minute of the day, every day, is it? Not at all. We must be in control of our desires lest they become faults that control us, leading to our own demise.

 The Seven Deadly Sins has been around since medieval times and has been driven into our psyche as law. Because of how culture gradually builds, it can be extremely difficult, near enough impossible, to shake. Even today they hold strong. But eventually everything becomes twisted over time. Laws eventually lead to rebellion because the world soon becomes black and white. As I said, when cultural and societal conformities are created, they become difficult to shake as it is what we are used to. How many times have privileges been removed due to ill-treatment of the gift? That's why rebellion happens; just because a small few abuse a good thing, it soon gets taken away from everyone to better control the masses.

 Rebellion, although the cause may be of good intention, can be just as unhealthy a movement. Instead of rationally thinking as to why and how to fix something, we go in the complete opposite direction to get as far away from the conformity as possible. A gradual change must happen for this to take effect, otherwise it's a bit taboo. Nobody can deal with it then; not very many people would really want to, often out of fear.

 That's the impression I get. The black and white world where it's either right or wrong, no question asked, leads even the slightest impression of sin to become taboo, even if it's totally under control and has been well thought out beforehand; completely innocently and rationally. In which case, it isn't even a sin; it's the original good trait that has become a victim of taboo. Our views have been tainted of those who partake in such desires at all, because we have been trained to believe that they are bad, no matter what form of control has been, or quantity it has been taken in.

 It isn't good to allow our natural human traits and behaviours to get out of control, but it most certainly isn't healthy to completely deny ourselves of them/ This is the approach that a lot of people will take. They take one extreme to the other; atheists, for example (although not all), take it the extreme in order to rebel against the Christian virtues to steer as far away from those conformities as humanly possible, whereas the Christians (again, not all) will completely deny these feelings altogether, seeing them as impure; being over-controlling, which can lead to an unhealthy degree of bottling up.


 Anyway, the point I'm making is that sin, no matter what one, is a human folly; an uncontrolled desire that leads us to mishaps and misfortune. These are our faults that lead to our eventual demise. It's something that I want to explore in my end of year film, particularly that of pride and lust, because they are so prominent in today's society, causing a lot of problems for us when we can't keep them under wraps (or duvet covers). And with that, I want to intertwine it with farcical comedy to an extent, because that's exactly what comedy does; it exploits the faults of an average to below average person for our own amusement.

 Perhaps taking it into satire to show what we're doing to ourselves as we so desperately try to conform, while simultaneously trying not to. We understand there's no big deal so long as we can be the ones in control, but what happens to us when we all social conformities take a hold of us? We end up running back and forth, back and forth. Sinning can be such a farce, can't it?

What's Your Role In All This? (Part III: The Woes of The Director)

Writing is the foundation of any piece of work. It communicates an idea verbally, in the form of text, describing significant, intricate details of the art form it may be coupled with. However, once the writing is done and out of the road, here comes the role of the director.

 Often, the two will communicate with each other over where the story will go, and how it will be portrayed ultimately. The director makes creative, usually visual, decisions in production, the stage that follows pre-production. Putting aside the role of the producer, the director is the electricity that gives life to the final written piece, the monster. The monster that is production, or the delicate role that the director holds.

 It can be tricky, especially among students. Not because of the inability of bringing an idea to life, but more to do with the fact that you need to communicate this idea to others effectively. Sure, you might be able to do it well -- very well, even -- but you also have to be on level with the others in your team, ensuring that everyone involved realises that's what you're doing; communicating and discussing an idea, and not just being a dick by getting a kick out of telling people what to do.

 Granted, some people who go for the director role are in it for that, but not everyone. I honestly don't think it's a role best suited for those without a creative bone in their body, so it's poor choice. Communication is also key, and you need to know how to talk to people and how to appropriately treat them. Bearing in mind that everybody is different, so everyone will react differently to certain methods that you may apply to get them involved, intrigued, and in focus on the project.

 For me, I have serious trouble with confidence and self-esteem, so it's difficult for me to to believe in myself when in this role. I get excited about ideas, and bringing them together, and I'm fine with some people. Others, though, I'm a lot more submissive with. That's not good. Never be submissive with a crew if you're supposed to be in an authority role, such as the incredibly important director. That's a major problem in the student film making process, mind. There's a sub-conscious distrust towards many in certain roles on the one hand, and on the other hand, it's just very easy to take over someone else's role, even though your role dictates something else.

 I've heard people talking about these roles a lot, or even complaining. This... does not help my confidence in the slightest. I know I need to learn to actually not give a toss about what others think, provided I'm doing a good job, because, really, all it does is show a lack of interest, motivation in a project, and a serious lack of maturity to take something seriously. Not necessarily the subject matter, just the creative process in general. You'll have 'they're just not interested because of ABC' with 'they're so pretentious because of XYZ' in the same utterance by the same mouth, which makes you wonder about the kind of balance you need to take. Thinking about that too much isn't helpful to your mindset either, leaving you unwilling to take charge at all in case this is what people think of you.

 There's nothing more demotivating than having your enthusiasm trampled on or disregarded. After all, for a selected some anyway, we're on this course for a reason, and that reason is our love and admiration to create visual-audio stories, to learn more about it, and to, hopefully, meet others just like that to help us on the way. You do need a team after all. An enthusiastic one at that where people aren't afraid to go the extra mile to do the best that they possibly can. I'd like to think I got away from people in high school who see a project as nothing more than a chore that they only need to tick the most basic of criteria for. That's boring, and I don't want people like that on my team, or any team that I become a part of.

 If I know exactly what I need to communicate, I have no issue at all in doing so, especially if I've conducted sufficient research for it and have planned the pitch out well and thoroughly. Otherwise I trip over my words, and cringe the entire attempt. It suggests a lack of interest in that case but, prepared, it shows you're incredibly excited about the project and truly believe in it and, more importantly, yourself. Don't let others disbelief in the medium pull you down.

What's Your Role In All This? (Part II: The Woes of The Writer)

In the previous post, I left off at a point where I essentially admitted to annotating and highlighting my books for research and as a pastime. That's not the worst thing that I do for fun. It's not like I casually collect dolls or anything hahahahhaa!

 Ahem. Anyway, research plays a huge part in writing. Sure, it's an imaginative activity but you should never allow it to be purely imaginative. There needs to be that nice balance between imagination and real life. Why would anybody want to experience anything you create if they can't make even a tidbit of sense out of it? There needs to be a degree of relatability, so you incorporate your own life experiences along with the detailed and thorough research that you have conducted for your end piece.

 That's about the initial writing stages, anyway. That part is, in theory, straightforward enough. It's just getting yourself to sit down and do it. There is absolutely no such thing as 'writer's block', a wise high school teacher, Keith McManus, once informed me, 'only laziness'. He explained that staring at a blank screen isn't productive, and that you should just write; even if what you're writing is crap. But guess what? Upon writing this crap, you have overcome the initial and most difficult part of the writing process; writing from nothing. From here, you can now read over your work and edit it appropriately. That's why we constantly re-draft our work, making it better and better each time, refining every minute detail to the best of our abilities.
 Admittedly, I still do this; staring at a blank screen. I don't have the gall to call it writer's block, I swallow my pride and make myself aware that I haven't written anything because I fear my lack of ability in this area. I fear that I'm going to cringe long and hard at what I've written and so will other people if I allow them to see it.
 Procrastination is an easy escape route to avoid this, but it isn't good. Writer's block does not exist. There is a fear of yourself that needs to be overthrown, and only you can do that. The best advice for anxiety is to just do it, and it applies here as well. Yes, it's a little counterproductive to tell an anxious person to 'just get over it' because, let's face, they're sick of telling themselves that, and they know fair and well that their fear is irrational. I tell myself this all the time.

However.

 I have used the 'just do it' method and, by God, does it work and you get such a sense of achievement from it. You need to get over the initial lack of confidence in yourself because, after all, it's incredibly rare for the first draft that you crank out to be an utter masterpiece. You need to work on it and that is a natural part of the process of writing. You take only a small degree of decision making abilities of an inebriated person and just go for it. Note the key phrase 'a small degree'; you don't want to be too rash!

 This view point is supported by the cause that NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, which takes place in the month of November, exists for. It challenges people, no matter what they do in life, to write a 50,000 word novella. There was also, until recent years, a script writing version known as Script Frenzy April, but now it has been since smooshed in with NaNo. They encourage people to just write and write and keep on writing; there will be room for editing later.

 You need to give yourself time for your research, what your subject is, your theme and your sub-theme, and how you're going to go about it. This is an absolutely fascinating progression to me, and I want to go forth with it in particular. You draw information from what people tell you, your own life experiences to add your own touch of reality and how view it, and thorough research. This is when it starts getting really damn fun.

What's Your Role In All This? (Part I: In The Beginning)

I've always adored story telling. There are so many vast ways of expressing a story that you want to tell, from writing to visual arts. In both of these categories, there are, again, various forms of which to adopt; you can even combine the two. That's what really got me into wanting to create my own films.

 I would describe my hobbies as seasonal, because I'll go through phases of a) music, b) role-play, c) design, and d) writing. I'll phase in and out of each period, enjoying every moment of it, gaining inspiration and motivation from each of them. a) I listen and play, the atmosphere of sound creating new visual stories in my mind; b) involving video games, seemingly being the least constructive of the four, yet, depending on the genre of the game, I can explore that virtual world, picking up inspiration as I go along. It's especially helped when user customisation features have been incorporated, such as creating the look of your avatar. The Fable series is great for this, going on various quests, and ultimately deciding your moral alignment, for example; c) drawing and painting characters that spring up that have minute meaning in all aspects of their visual aesthetic, and; d) actually putting pen to paper. From all those hobbies, I get the thrill to create my very own piece with the help of the inspiration that I've gained from them.

 That's why film making is so great. You can pull all of these hobbies together, creating an explosion akin to The Big Bang, forming a new world of your own. While writing is the foundation of this, there are many more aspects that help to bring the concept to life. Capturing it, lighting it, casting it and acting it, re-telling it through the method of video editing. Of course, it's never good to settle yourself as a jack of all trades, master of none. Some may argue that this is better than a master of one, but then your finished work isn't going to be all that outstanding then, is it? That said, it is highly beneficial for you to have a good grasp on as much as possible, then you can properly communicate with the other masters about what you want but, again, you really ought to specialise somewhere, lest you be deemed a worthless attribute to a project.

 Depending on the context used, it can be highly insulting, or an alright compliment. Now, it's different whenever are left with everything to do, so you can understand how insulted I was when I was informed of a certain blog post made a certain ex-team mate. So take a spot of advice from me: if you ever find yourself stuck with someone who drops all their duties on you, yet will happily hoard credit, milking the small things that they did, get the hell out. It drains both energy and motivation for something that you would normally love to do, and that is something that I would not wish on anybody. It leaves you feeling angry and worthless. It's good to be competent in as many aspects possible, but what you really want to do is to strive to better yourself in particular roles, thriving in them, and thus becoming something that others will seek out. Well. Hopefully.


 The main purpose of our final year film is to exploit ourselves in the particular roles that we want to go forth with. I enjoy most aspects of the process of film making and, I think, especially in a student film, it's easy to allow yourself to become incredibly nervous over letting other people take over certain roles. There are only a certain amount of masters who will, no doubt, be in high demand. In the bigger picture of things, it'll be no problem because you're seeking these people out for your own freelance work.

 I'm looking into the roles of writer and director because I create the idea with the former, then bring people together and communicate with them to make it happen. Normally, especially in independent productions, the producer will be the same person. They're more to do with organisation and financing considering they're the ones who actually fund the thing in the first place, so there's a lot of discussion with the director over what's actually possibly to achieve. So what I'm trying to say is that it's actually kind of pointless to have someone who is purely the producer. That's just my two pence anyway; it's an independent film, and a student one at that, so there actually isn't going to be a budget anyway. You're paying for anything specific to the work out of pocket. That said, sometimes it's good to have a co-person by your side in case the project becomes too precious to you. If you can keep yourself grounded and have developed a thicker shell, then that's just dandy.


 I want to really elongate my writing skills. But with that, I'm going to need to do a lot of research. I've already posted some research prior to this particular post and I'm still reading into it. It's just a matter of taking these annotations from my now graffitied books to this blog. It's a fascinating process that leaves you wanting to find out more, further gearing your motivation to work.

Deconstructing Wes Anderson's 'Hotel Chevaleir'

When we received the introduction to our new unit, Sharron screened a Wes Anderson short Hotel Chevaleir. Funded purely by Anderson and originally intended to be a stand alone piece of work, and what soon forced Natalie Portman to swear off nudes, he later coupled it with The Darjeeling Limited, 2007 as its prologue.

 For a moment, let's just pretend that it is stand alone. Especially considering Fox Searchlight hadn't the foggiest between the connection until after The Darjeeling Limited was made. Apparently they shared no interest in the short financially either, it being legally available for free online. Anyway, in which case, both characters remain unnamed and their issues unclear, as separate individuals to their feature cameo counterparts.

 Hotel Chevalier surrounds a couple going through a rough patch. Jason Schwartzman's character having attempted to escape the relationship for a while, hiding himself away in a hotel room. Natalie Portman's character, having shown up at his room with flowers of forgiveness, as I'll call them, in hand, suggesting that there is a want for a reconciliation between the two to perhaps salvage their alleged romantic relationship.

 We never actually discover what went wrong, or even how long the issues had been going on for. From the mysterious bruises on Portman's arm, to the extremity of Schwartzman's character feeling it necessary to become reclusive in a hotel for ages. In fact, from what we're shown at least, neither of these two seem to know what is going on in their relationship themselves. Portman's character straight out asking "What the fuck is going on?", notably the only usage of profanity as emphasis, suggesting this. In regards to the expletive, it expresses the beginnings of anger, however, apart from this one, isolated instance, that emotion is never explored further. In fact, the film in general is rather emotionless, where the both characters speak in monotones, being very awkward around each other. Neither of them seem to know what they want to do or how to proceed. Or, rather, neither of them know what they should do; they certainly know what they want to do, but are reluctant as it is possible that it isn't really a good idea.

 They do still care about each other, this is highly evident to me. However, it is also highly evident that the two lovers are hesitant to show it. Schwartzman's character's hotel room is so fake yet so casual and lived-in, he is evidently lonely. When his (ex-)girlfriend calls, he doesn't emote very much, but we can tell that he is unsure of what he feels he should do; there is only a mere implication that he doesn't want her to visit, but he does not put up a fight at all. He tells her his room number straight away, and pretends to think about his response. He most certainly does want her, but will he admit that to himself? He wants to appear stronger than that, perhaps. Regardless of what is going on in their relationship, or what sort of relationship it is, it's unhealthy behaviour for everybody involved.

Yellow is obviously prominent. It smacks you square in the jaw without a notion of an apology. On its own, yellow can uphold the symbolism of wealth, happiness, and associated with the sun which provides life and light. It also, however, promotes negative feelings in turn, such as envy and jealousy, and a lack of courage. In Hotel Chevalier, it means every one of those. The more positive traits that the colour yellow has to offer appears more as a contrast than anything to these characters, but cowardice and jealousy is certainly ripe here.

 Despite getting two viewings out of this in class on Thursday, I could not, for the life of me, actually hear most of the dialogue. Poor speaker equipment, people talking around me, or a combination of the two, but I'm actually glad because it meant that I experienced a slightly different interpretation of the short. Putting aside dialogue that hints what this is, we are never certain about the situation in the film at all, ever. As well as that, my initial interpretation helps me to make sense of how emotionless the characters were towards each other. I had assumed that the relationship was more to that of a casual one, wherein the two frequently engage in sexual fun, as opposed to more loving kind. Maybe I'm just bitter and that's why I interpreted it that way, but it does make a lot of sense to me by adopting it in this way.

 It's still something that many people view as taboo and out of the ordinary when it isn't really. Both characters know what they want and what they desire from each other, but nothing more than that. Portman's portrayal in this instance shows a character who, when she wants something, she'll take it without hesitance. Schwartzman's, on the other hand, knows what he wants, but is indecisive over whether or not he should indulge. There is a Seductive Muse air about Portman's character from this perspective as a result; an openly sexual woman. Her lover puts on the facade that he is on this level; an attempt at expressing rational thought to her when his facial expressions never correspond with what he says, unlike Portman who gives off the occasional cheeky smirk. She's confident in this, he is not. His responses to her (or lack thereof) would suggest a lack of care towards his lover, which she is not afraid to show, because neither of them actually know where they stand with one another; this is deemed an odd relationship because it isn't a real relationship in the traditional sense, and they both know this.

 The relationship that isn't real is presented to us in a that has an almost 'dream doll house' like vibe about it. It is not to be forgotten, however, that is not his, despite looking very lived in, the key word in that phrase is synonymous with the word 'fantasy'. It's not real; none of it is. It happens behind unofficial closed doors, but there is a touch of guilt among the characters involves; this isn't a conformity but they still don't know what's going on or, at least, can't quite seem to get on the same page as one another for very long.

 I actually found it fascinating in that sense, and could really see how it links in with our theme of dislocation. It's full of chaos, and everything is everywhere, so nothing can ever be pieced together effectively enough for it all to make sense to the characters. It may be obvious to the people watching it - the audience - but it's never quite as simple with those who are dealing with their dislocated issue.

Curiosity Killed The Cat...But Satisfaction Brought It Back

Sometimes there isn't an obstacle in the way in our route. You'd think that would be a good thing but, remember what I touched up on in a previous post about how dull life would be without chaos? Sometimes we need a bunch of obstacles to keep us entertained, to keep us in the know. Once this has been experienced, we then have a much better understanding of how to deal with bigger versions of these obstacles, and to perhaps help others along the way.

There's this interesting indie Belgian psychological-horror/art game called The Path. If you want some excellent game play mechanics, don't go near it. You'll more than likely just find it incredibly dull. Although, regardless, it's certainly worth looking into for a read about.

It's based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood so, naturally, it explores the theme of coming of age, or maturation. In Ronald B. Tobias' book 20 Master Plots (chapter 19, page 190), Tobias explains that the maturation plot "focuses on children who are in the process of becoming adults'. It goes from "innocence to experience" which is exactly what The Path heavily symbolises. Unlike what Tobias suggests at the start of the chapter, it doesn't contain a particularly optimistic plot. At least, not until you begin exploring.

 At the commencement of The Path, you pick one of six sisters at a time, all two years apart in age, so at very different times of their childhoods. The youngest being 9, the eldest 19; brand new to the adult world. Just as game play begins, the game informs you that you are to take your basket to your sick grandmother. Oh, and to stay on the path.

 The funny thing about this game is that once you go, 'okay, well, straightforward enough' and get to your grandmother's, the game tells you that you've failed because you didn't encounter your wolf.

 Essentially, what you're supposed to do, is to disobey the game. What child does not question the authority of their parent or guardian, or a higher figure at least once in their lives? Even if they can hide it well. None. You are encouraged to be independent and to explore. You interact with the world around you as you delve deeper into the woods. Take your time and don't run either, because then how could you possibly see what's going on around you?

 Curiosity often goes hand in hand with fear. We are terrified of the unknown because anything could happen to us. But that's the thing; anything could happen, and we're just curious. We want to learn more about the world around us and, despite what our parents tell us, the warnings we receive from older and wiser people, it's just going to build upon the temptation to explore these curiosities for ourselves. After all, everybody's experience with whatever have you is going to be unique to each person. Furthermore, if a child is told not to, say, climb a wall, the child is more than likely going to disobey and climb it anyway.
 'You'll fall!' they tell us.
 'Whatever,' we utter back. So we climb the wall and, lo and behold... we fall. Ouchie. Not doin' that again. Got the T-shirt so there's no need to go back. That said, some children see this as a challenge to try even harder. After all, kids absolutely love showing off.

 We're testing our boundaries. We're gaining experience. Yeah, it's good to be cautious, but you can be too cautious and that can be just as destructive to our character, if not moreso. If we don't die, we become stronger. Sure enough, we're frail and weakened from the obstacle that we just endured, but we learn from it and we have a much better understanding of how to deal with bigger versions of these obstacles when we are stronger and ready for them. Sometimes you've just got to endure those bumps and bruises along the way.

 I mentioned earlier about encountering a wolf in the game. Each girl is assigned her own wolf. Each girl is at different stages of childhood, or only beginning their adult lives. Each of them has their own demons to deal with, in the form of a metaphorical wolf, catering to their curiosities.

Through the wolves, we explore the early understandings of the concept of death, peer pressure, personal leisures before duties, sex, false friendships, fitting in, etc. When you play through it all, you realise that the horror was all simply psychological; there is no danger. You are cautious for a while but once you realise that there isn't really any threat, you've become stronger in that sense. You've experienced the outside world for yourself. Despite this, we will always suffer some form of regret, which is evidenced in the stance and new walk cycle of each girl after they met their respective wolves.

It's actually very good that our new path on the map to find the 'X' is so bumpy and chaotic because we're still learning while we're on this journey. It helps us grow. But, sometimes, it isn't always obvious to us. We carry on ignorantly, not learning anything. This could be deemed a flaw, sometimes a tragic one if it's that kind of story.

But what flaws are they?

Well You Heard Wrong!

We received a theme last week to give us a little direction on where to start. The headquarters of where to begin the adventure on finding that big ol' 'X' on that stupid blank map.

 I really love the theme. It's dislocation. Although, initially I heard 'this location', my brain making sense of it by assuming that it was a vague little teaser to a specific location that we would receive on the day. I didn't find out 'til Tuesday that this was a mishearing. Doi hoi.

 Dislocation. This actually makes it a really broad theme to work with. You can play with chaos, dystopian concepts, and further involve the impurities of a character and how s/he deals with the world around him/her. Perhaps there is another who plays off, and it's just one big tennis match; back and forth, back and forth.

 Chaos is good. Without chaos, there is no order. Without chaos, life would also be pretty damn dull. Of course, you don't want a lot of chaos, but you need something to spice things up a wee bit. Naturally, we do need obstacles to help shape ourselves and, of course, so do fictional characters. The cause and effect is a natural element within writing that allows our series of events to unfold. Nothing is perfect; no way, no how. But it's up to us to make the most of it.

 Our map is gonna have a lot of obstacles, it seems. Ones that are seemingly obvious to get around or over take but perhaps we can't actually see what's right in front of us. What route do we take to go around these obstacles? Is the new route actually worth taking as opposed to just tackling the obstacle in front of us? Sometimes we need to ask for help. Maybe in the form of a supporting character, but sometimes they can be just as blind without necessarily taking the same road. They can both be hard, but in different ways and in different levels for those characters to deal with. Maybe we don't see them dealing with them, maybe they don't even attempt to deal with them at all.

 Say we have a fence. We could totally jump that fence if we tried, but what would the consequences be if we got caught? Suddenly, our minds invent all sorts of unpleasant scenarios that lead us to fear trying. We could try being sneaky but everything has its risks. Uhh, let's go around the fence.

 The fence was an obvious and immediate obstacle. From taking a new route, we actually risk bumping into even more difficult obstacles. Or worse yet... absolutely none at all. You've learnt nothing.

Now what?

Where To Go From Here

I just spent about ten minutes staring blankly at my screen, waiting for a witty title for the new blog to smack me square in the bake but, unfortunately, it never came (...that's what she said).

 I have several notions of what direction I'm going in, but that's the thing: Currently, that's all they are; notions. They're subject to change, be it only slightly or drastically. That's the whole point of pre-production. You develop and you draft and re-draft and re-draft.

 I like to go on danders. I don't what it is or why, but it helps to get the creativity in my brain flowing. Ill always get these random scenes in my head of, well, just about anything that I might be able to flesh out in some media form or another. The sources are usually from my memories, of course, whether it was originally sparked by something that I saw, heard someone say, or an incident or two that I experienced recently or a long, long time ago - maybe it's recurring and this is a way to exploit it from my system. From there, I just need to know how to flesh it out properly so that the scene has more meaning, more context to it than just a stand alone situation with no sort of anchorage whatsoever.

 I've been excited for this project all year (for the bulk of last year as well, actually) because I get to really explore everything that's been running through my head in association with what I've done and learned (or is it 'learnt'? Eee-ther, Aye-ther) up until this point.

 One way of looking at it is a big 'X' on a map. But the stupid map is blank, so you've to make your own journey. You have to explore on your own because it's your journey. You have to create your route. Sure, there are several, that's inevitable, but where will you go? What will you encounter? Who will you meet and how does all of this unfold?

 The great thing about fiction, compared to fact, is that we know it's not real (unless you're a part of a crazy fandom but let's not delve into that). Or, rather, the specific series of events that are presented to us. It does, however, for the most part, have an underlying reason for being. Real life? Not so much; it's random and is ongoing. So the most important of The Five Ws that I left out was why. Why does all this happen? There's just got to be a reason, and our reason can be an overall lesson, or questioning our viewers, say, in the form of satire.

 Those little moments, or scenes as I've described them, that pop up in your mind need fleshing out. You're frustratingly scribbling on your map because you've no idea where to start. I mean, you know you're looking for something, but not quite what it is yet. You have a few notions of the weather and general sort of areas that you want to explore for that little spike of advencha, but where to start?

 That's why you find yourself a start point. In this case, a theme.