Here we discuss the George Lichtenberg Film Project.
165 thoughts on “The George Lichtenberg Film Project”
Is marc reading this? Is he willing to direct this film and write a short treatment? If he indicates that he is, then we’re a “go.” I will be more than happy to write the first draft of the screenplay, which can then be revised by whoever wants to take a stab at it (Funt? Are you willing?) I will also be happy to be the sound man for this project (we’ll need an external mic for the camera) and take care of distribution afterwards (Rome International Film Festival, local cable, Internet, other film festivals, what have you … Funt could help with this, too). I think we should incorporate Dale’s symphony into the film project to help spur him on. (Not that he needs it). Marc should use this project to find his poetic voice. Matthew should act in it and show it to Tyler Perry. Turff can use this to find out what art is. I don’t know Terry well enough to know what he wants to contribute, but he should jump in and tell us.
Having said all this, if no one wants to do this, that’s fine by me. It just sounds like it might be fun.
If all else fails, I can use it to ascertain the moment of inertia for Art.
Ha!
Yes, let’s do a loose adaptation. Where the heck is marc?
I only descend into the blog world from 8:30 to 10 AM, M thru F. This is how I keep perspective and a roof over my head.
I had thought about a theatre event for the Lichtenbergians involving the ceremony and the interchanges and a member with a background in neurology who decides to poison a fellow member in such a way that the poisoned member would experience slow brain deterioration over the next 10 to 20 years. He confesses what he has done to other members rather early on and part of the “story” depicts everyone informally studying the poisoned member over a number of years. What is the soul, etc.
But a film project could be fun. I had been thinking about the “reality show” as a form. I thought about creating a mock “documentary” modeled after one of those shows you might see on the Discovery Channel or the Learning Channel. A Family Ministries program at some church in a small town starts to use competitive collegiant style wrestling as a form of couples therapy. Turns out, of course, that the treatment is working primarily as an aphrodisiac and this causes problems. The film would document the origin of the idea and its impact on various couples and then the “crisis” with church administration, etc.
Something more freewheeling and improvisational would also be fun. I’m up for anything. Let’s keep batting around ideas.
I like the wrestling idea. Is there a way to combine this with the Tolkien thing?
Maybe a local shoe salesman (or whatever) is trying to write this symphony in his head. Or create this sculpture or this painting (more visual). The motifs from the symphony could be heard anytime he tries ot slide into that role as “artist,” which is continually frustrated. This could be complicated by the fact that he has a wife or girlfriend that tries to take him to couples therapy at the church, and he winds up falling in love (or lust, I should say) with someone else, which of course creates a scandal. Maybe it could even be the instructor, a man, that he falls for. But for him, the more serious matter is that the scandal and its aftermath distracts him from his work, which is really all he cared about, anyway. But maybe the experience allows him to have the artistic breakthrough he’s been seeking for years?
I like the idea of doing a fake documentary. Of course the mockumentary form has been Spinal Tapped to death by Christopher Guest’s crew. We’d have to think of a way to do it a little differently.
I keep thinking practicability, so bear with me. The wrestling thing would require a large, organized cast, plus a large room with mats. Plus, the set-up of the situation becomes a major part of the story-telling.
The thing that appealed to me about George’s being a barista in the coffee shop is that it’s an easy set and he’s dealing with one person at a time. That’s do-able.
(I’m not rejecting the wrestling idea, just being anti-Lichtenbergian.)
As for the documentary part, we could have him being interviewed as part of the process of him going on his “journey.” Also been done, all the dystopian sci-fi, (THX-1138?) but it might provide an interesting frisson to the idea of never having enough time (or talent) to complete his work. It would also give us a means of replicating the “Voices” portion of Niggle.
How can I work the Buttocks Thing into all of this?
I think we should definitely keep it small-scale. We’ll do an epic, in true David Lean fashion, as our follow-up.
But I’m still wondering. Is marc saying “yes” to directing this? Is Dale saying “yes” to scoring it with bits and pieces of his symphony? If Dale doesn’t have the time to edit it, Barbara will.
I’m asking these questions because I’m not going to spend my time writing something that isn’t going to be produced. I’ve had quite enough of that. But I will be more than happy to write something that we’re all committed to somehow pulling off.
Let’s just all agree on the basic story points and I’ll get busy. But, again, only if we’re committed. I won’t start writing until we come to some kind of consensus on the story.
I guess I need not say that this needs to be a zero-budget production? I’ll be happy to buy the tapes, though.
It would be good if Funt could agree to do a “pass” on the script, as well — if he has the time.
I can score and kibbitz on editing.
I have a box full of Hi-8 tapes, and I think I have some blank miniDV tapes around somewhere.
This seems to be taking shape nicely. I think the documentary approach is the way to go, with the shop owner being interviewed. He could be trying to create aomething (Dale’s synphony?), while always being interrupted, and at the same time has been chosen to respresent his town in the gala representation to be held in the “Big City” far away, and thus the interview. However the piece he is to present is the very one he can’t finish, the interview being one reason why along with a crazy friend or two who could bring the “Buttocks” thing into the piece.
I have read scripts for play contests before and would be glad to take a look as another editor. Also I would be willing to contribute a small amount so we would not have to have a zero budget movie.
I’d be willing to contribute a small amount of cash, too.
Another Idea: A member of Lichtenberg Socity has died and George is in charge of planning the “wake”. So he is writing music, and thinking up silly skits, like the “buttocks” thing in order to celebrate the member’s death as we agreed we would do. Meanwhile he is being interviewed because he has been chosen to take on a huge task by the elders at the main city, because of his ability to not complete previous tasks. He has to travel to the “city” to find out his task, and thus the interview which is another obstruction in his “wake” preparations. It all ends with a hilarous wake, with George waving goodbye at the end as he begins his journey. Try to keep the number of people involved to a minimum.
I think the buttocks thing is a video project that a friend keeps rooking George into helping with, maybe appearing in and/or scoring.
If we were to use the last movement of my symphony as a kind of structure, then the film would move from the first, tentative motif in the basses, through all kinds of fragments and stops and starts as George tries to get a handle on this music he desperately wants to finish. All of the music is interior, of course. He barely gets sketches down on paper because of all the kindnesses he does for others or the duties of his job. The apotheotic climax would come at the end, as he’s leaving/left on his “journey” (the story strongly implies death).
If you haven’t read Leaf by Niggle, download it and do so. It’s not that long.
Writing on spec is part of the screenwriter’s lot. You want guarantees, order Vinyl Repair.
(The above witty barb has promise, but I’m not 100% happy with “Vinyl Repair;” there may be a more familiar “guaranteed or your money back”-type television order item to plug in; feel free to substitute.)
Yes, Spinal Tap is the last word in mockumentary. I was thinking more along the lines of trying to pull off a total hoax using the form that reality-style television has perfected over the last ten years or so. No winking. Played straight, but going toward the outrageous.
But that’s for another time. Hear, hear, for any film undertaking. I’m readying myself to read all comments in order to understand the evolution and be on the same page. Will not say “Yes” to a function, however, since scaling one of my particular Lichtenbergian peaks will involve finding an entirely new collaborative mechanism for producing a film. Might as well draw a line in the sand here. Let’s keep talking.
Witty barbs are not your forte, marc. Stick to lengthy, convoluted (but playful) earnestness, permeated by angst and despair, but lightly peppered with hope and the belief in artistic process. It suits you better.
If we’re drawing lines in the sand, I am absolutely NOT writing a script “on spec.” No no no no no. Only if we are going to DO it. And I ain’t directing.
But enough of what we will not do. What WILL we do?
I like Dale’s rough outline, BTW.
As for “collaborative mechanism,” ain’t this it?
I’m on board for helping any way I can.
Ah, sir, you’ve nicked the tender underbelly. But it was my blunder in exposin’ it to ye, what?
Great, now I’m thinking about Marc’s tender underbelly.
I’m feeling tingly again.
You want guarantees, order a case of Crazy Glue. (With the possible tag: It’s guaranteed or your money back.)
Better. Not great, but it’s worth renewing the struggle. I was thrown off my game for a moment. I dreamed a prawn was playing pundit with my potential.
Where were we? Let me read Leaf by Niggle and get back to you.
Heard in a voice over: “Work on the Symphony goes slower than expected.”
George sits at kitchen table, tapping meditatively on daughter’s Fischer-Price glockenspiel. After a potent interval, George watches meditatively as the glockenspiel rolls slowly off the table and onto the floor, making a diatonic clatter. The dog, we see, still holds the end of the pull string in his mouth. George and dog have mute exchange of looks.
Screen: black
Audio: opening motif of IV. Lento, through opening notes of brass choir
Video: slowly fading in, still hazy, unidentifiable
—-
Audio: “Can you make that a double shot?”… music breaks off
Video: snaps into focus on the espresso machine
—-
Video: cut to George, turning, smiling, to customer
Audio: “Sure!”
—
Video: George finishes the order, humming the music to himself, trying to keep it in his head. He keeps accentuating the minor third; it’s a dismal sound. Perhaps a reax shot from the customer. Maybe a “working on something new?” to establish what we’re dealing with here.
We go on to see George attempt to wrestle his music moleskine notebook out to jot down what he’s just heard in his head, but he keeps getting distracted, perhaps by his buttocks friend.
What great images! I especially like the bit with the dog. Perfect.
Dale: After getting your email and listening to the mp3 again, this is making much more sense to me. I am getting the mood you are trying to set, and where we can go with that (Leaf by Niggle). I was headed in a completely different direction. But if we are going to use your music, and I don’t hear anyone else volunteering to write some, your approach is much better. Now we need to suggest some images, as Marc has, so you don’t end up writing the whole thing.
There are those passages I think of from noted composers’ notebooks, diaries or letters that are stereotypical; you hear them often read as voice-overs in documentaries about the composers or gushed out by the announcer on Performance Today when trying to fill air time. I think we could use them as part of a template for generating “images” or gags. We hear George throughout narrating with passages from his “diaries” or “letters” that echo with painful precision the pat passages from various noted composers’ reflections. We juxtapose George’s inflated narrations with some counterpoint situation that deflates or ironically deflects the passage. I’m analyzing what I did with my little bit earlier. Dale, no doubt, has read the lion’s share of composer musings and correspondence and could supply a catalog of exalted tropes on how the work proceeds and inspirations found (as well as the fussing over insufficient payments, inadequacies of vocalists, etc). Also dovetails nicely with the whole Lichtenbergian notion of “the Waste Book.”
I realize,now,it should be: “Work on the New Symphony goes slower than expected.”
I think marc is definitely on the right track here.
Voiceover: “I find myself growing impatient with the musicians and their lack of ability.”
George is tapping his baton with irritation.
“No, no, no. Look, it may not say rallentando but the phrasing makes it clear what is required. And on measure 43, look, I…I’m sorry, you, it’s Agatha, right? Agatha, please, it has to be sforzando there. You may think your attack is…, but, I’m sorry. It’s the cadential turn, okay. Stab it. Got that?”
A five-year-old Agatha, holding two wooden sticks, sits on a bench among four or more kids her age and looks like she’s about to cry.
Significant question: how much of a buffoon is George? Do we want the audience to sneer at him, or to shed a tear for him? Or something else?
Buffoon? No more than Sequoyah was. Or any Don Quixote type figure.
I think we, the audience, don’t sneer at him, no, but everyone else in the movie probably does. Especially his wife and relatives.
We’re all pressured to “be practical.” Basically, to be inhuman. To be an automaton, part of the machine. Watch your TV and shut up. Yet we also feel the need to contribute something, or to express some insight, to communicate. Death looms. That inner spark fades. We grow more grey with each passing year (and I’m not necessarily talking about hair.)
We should try to capture that. The long, slow fade into oblivion and what it means to fight against it. Everyone wants you to shut up and fade quietly into the night. But here you are, still alive, still feeling that there’s something vital to say, to do. No one else cares. Certainly the universe is indifferent. But you MUST produce SOMETHING of value, even if the value is only to yourself, before your times runs out.
The audience isn’t shedding a tear for HIM. The audience is shedding a tear for THEMSELVES. They should recognize themselves in him. We all want to be significant, perhaps even great. Alas, for most of us, it’s just not in the cards.
Then my symphony will be the perfect accompaniment.
What were Funt’s dicta for comedy writing? Steal, but try to be a nice guy, and one other one? And can’t we extend it to creation in general, implying a farce of cosmic proportions?
Dale’s question, to me, pertains to the distance from which we view George and the eyes through which we view him. And for the Cinemaaah, that’s a pretty crucial question. I haven’t read the Tolkein story, yet, but my reflexive take on our efforts so far moves to the comic. The gag with the kids (inspired by an “early start” music program we tried once at St. Paul’s with no recourse to actual early childhood music educators) is perhaps not right for George and is a bit cliche, but I was interested more in illustrating use of the template.
George’s acute self-consciousness and his inflated notebook entries can work together, I think, especially if we don’t view him through his self-consciousness. He’s not a Salieri, for instance.
Specimen for exploration and treatment. How do we approach the following basic situation: George chatting at a party with a stranger or remote acquaintance. He mentions his work on the Symphony.
Let’s try “scripting” various approaches,i.e, making choices in terms of dialogue, characters involved, sequence of shots, timing, texture, point of view, etc. We can explore questions of tone, emphasis, distance, etc.
I propose this specimen because I’ve been wrestling with whether or not to use a joke involving George making reference to a “new” symphony and his wife deflating by noting there is no “old” symphony, nor is there a “previous” symphony, and certainly no “last” symphony. Already this assumes a certain style which may or may not be right depending on how we want to go. The wife, if she is included in this scene, could just as easily, once catching George’s mention of the word “symphony,” take him by the elbow and lead him away from George’s listener and toward the food table. Or:
Wife: Now it’s “the new symphony”….?
G: A new symphony.
Wife: The…
G: My latest…
Wife: The…
G: The…next–
Wife: The.
(Pause)
Wife: The.
G:…The Symphony.
Wife (to listener): The.
G (to listener; attempt at chuckle): The symphony.
Wife (again to listener; no chuckle): The. George wants to tell you all about the symphony.
There are other possibilities, certainly more original ones, and they don’t have to be dialogue driven or operate at the same level of self-conscious wit. What are they?
Personally, I’d like to see a cinematic comedy which fuses Richard Lester and Robert Bresson. (Napoleon Dynamite may already have kind of succeeded in doing that.) Other preferences?
That dialogue is PRICELESS.
My take is that we’re going for someting kinda — tragicomic?
I’m thinking About Schmidt meets Hearts of Darkness (the Apocalypse Now “making of.”)
I want to laugh at George, but not sneer at him. And the only reason I want to laugh at him is because he reminds me of myself (and my friends). I certainly don’t feel superior to George in ANY way.
I think the audience should smile grimly. That is, his situation is absurd (in the technical sense), so we cannot but help find it comic; but we would feel it cruel to laugh at him.
They should root for him to succeed.
I think Dale is spot-on. Agree 100%
I invite one and all to make a decision about tone and play with the specimen. And by one and all, I mean one and all. How might the audience experience this moment through your views of George and of the Cinemaaah.
(I know I haven’t read the story, yet. Bear with me. We could still play with the specimen.)
I think the wife/listener scene works, especially if we see George trying to explain something that is very important to him but (as we all know from experience) very personal and very inchoate, to a listener who might be interested if only he could explain it correctly. His wife comes across not as the voice of reason but as one of a “killer of the process.” She’s an enemy.
This figures into what we’re trying to do here, somehow, I’m sure. Can’t articulate exactly why, but I know it must be so.
Make sure to read the whole review (it’s two pages). The good stuff is on the second page.
“Hedonic thermostat.”
That’s nice.
I just had an insight on the “90% of drivers” shibboleth. I think it’s a fallacy. I may blog about it.
Yes, please. I do know one thing. My two oldest daughters have been knocked down a few pegs since they actually got behind the wheel. Until then, from the backseat, they were EXPERT drivers. After totaling a couple of cars, they’re a bit more humble.
Is marc reading this? Is he willing to direct this film and write a short treatment? If he indicates that he is, then we’re a “go.” I will be more than happy to write the first draft of the screenplay, which can then be revised by whoever wants to take a stab at it (Funt? Are you willing?) I will also be happy to be the sound man for this project (we’ll need an external mic for the camera) and take care of distribution afterwards (Rome International Film Festival, local cable, Internet, other film festivals, what have you … Funt could help with this, too). I think we should incorporate Dale’s symphony into the film project to help spur him on. (Not that he needs it). Marc should use this project to find his poetic voice. Matthew should act in it and show it to Tyler Perry. Turff can use this to find out what art is. I don’t know Terry well enough to know what he wants to contribute, but he should jump in and tell us.
Having said all this, if no one wants to do this, that’s fine by me. It just sounds like it might be fun.
I like the idea of a Leaf by Niggle analog. Here’s a link to an RTF file of the text.
If all else fails, I can use it to ascertain the moment of inertia for Art.
Ha!
Yes, let’s do a loose adaptation. Where the heck is marc?
I only descend into the blog world from 8:30 to 10 AM, M thru F. This is how I keep perspective and a roof over my head.
I had thought about a theatre event for the Lichtenbergians involving the ceremony and the interchanges and a member with a background in neurology who decides to poison a fellow member in such a way that the poisoned member would experience slow brain deterioration over the next 10 to 20 years. He confesses what he has done to other members rather early on and part of the “story” depicts everyone informally studying the poisoned member over a number of years. What is the soul, etc.
But a film project could be fun. I had been thinking about the “reality show” as a form. I thought about creating a mock “documentary” modeled after one of those shows you might see on the Discovery Channel or the Learning Channel. A Family Ministries program at some church in a small town starts to use competitive collegiant style wrestling as a form of couples therapy. Turns out, of course, that the treatment is working primarily as an aphrodisiac and this causes problems. The film would document the origin of the idea and its impact on various couples and then the “crisis” with church administration, etc.
Something more freewheeling and improvisational would also be fun. I’m up for anything. Let’s keep batting around ideas.
I like the wrestling idea. Is there a way to combine this with the Tolkien thing?
Maybe a local shoe salesman (or whatever) is trying to write this symphony in his head. Or create this sculpture or this painting (more visual). The motifs from the symphony could be heard anytime he tries ot slide into that role as “artist,” which is continually frustrated. This could be complicated by the fact that he has a wife or girlfriend that tries to take him to couples therapy at the church, and he winds up falling in love (or lust, I should say) with someone else, which of course creates a scandal. Maybe it could even be the instructor, a man, that he falls for. But for him, the more serious matter is that the scandal and its aftermath distracts him from his work, which is really all he cared about, anyway. But maybe the experience allows him to have the artistic breakthrough he’s been seeking for years?
I like the idea of doing a fake documentary. Of course the mockumentary form has been Spinal Tapped to death by Christopher Guest’s crew. We’d have to think of a way to do it a little differently.
I keep thinking practicability, so bear with me. The wrestling thing would require a large, organized cast, plus a large room with mats. Plus, the set-up of the situation becomes a major part of the story-telling.
The thing that appealed to me about George’s being a barista in the coffee shop is that it’s an easy set and he’s dealing with one person at a time. That’s do-able.
(I’m not rejecting the wrestling idea, just being anti-Lichtenbergian.)
As for the documentary part, we could have him being interviewed as part of the process of him going on his “journey.” Also been done, all the dystopian sci-fi, (THX-1138?) but it might provide an interesting frisson to the idea of never having enough time (or talent) to complete his work. It would also give us a means of replicating the “Voices” portion of Niggle.
How can I work the Buttocks Thing into all of this?
I think we should definitely keep it small-scale. We’ll do an epic, in true David Lean fashion, as our follow-up.
But I’m still wondering. Is marc saying “yes” to directing this? Is Dale saying “yes” to scoring it with bits and pieces of his symphony? If Dale doesn’t have the time to edit it, Barbara will.
I’m asking these questions because I’m not going to spend my time writing something that isn’t going to be produced. I’ve had quite enough of that. But I will be more than happy to write something that we’re all committed to somehow pulling off.
Let’s just all agree on the basic story points and I’ll get busy. But, again, only if we’re committed. I won’t start writing until we come to some kind of consensus on the story.
I guess I need not say that this needs to be a zero-budget production? I’ll be happy to buy the tapes, though.
It would be good if Funt could agree to do a “pass” on the script, as well — if he has the time.
I can score and kibbitz on editing.
I have a box full of Hi-8 tapes, and I think I have some blank miniDV tapes around somewhere.
This seems to be taking shape nicely. I think the documentary approach is the way to go, with the shop owner being interviewed. He could be trying to create aomething (Dale’s synphony?), while always being interrupted, and at the same time has been chosen to respresent his town in the gala representation to be held in the “Big City” far away, and thus the interview. However the piece he is to present is the very one he can’t finish, the interview being one reason why along with a crazy friend or two who could bring the “Buttocks” thing into the piece.
I have read scripts for play contests before and would be glad to take a look as another editor. Also I would be willing to contribute a small amount so we would not have to have a zero budget movie.
I’d be willing to contribute a small amount of cash, too.
Another Idea: A member of Lichtenberg Socity has died and George is in charge of planning the “wake”. So he is writing music, and thinking up silly skits, like the “buttocks” thing in order to celebrate the member’s death as we agreed we would do. Meanwhile he is being interviewed because he has been chosen to take on a huge task by the elders at the main city, because of his ability to not complete previous tasks. He has to travel to the “city” to find out his task, and thus the interview which is another obstruction in his “wake” preparations. It all ends with a hilarous wake, with George waving goodbye at the end as he begins his journey. Try to keep the number of people involved to a minimum.
I think the buttocks thing is a video project that a friend keeps rooking George into helping with, maybe appearing in and/or scoring.
If we were to use the last movement of my symphony as a kind of structure, then the film would move from the first, tentative motif in the basses, through all kinds of fragments and stops and starts as George tries to get a handle on this music he desperately wants to finish. All of the music is interior, of course. He barely gets sketches down on paper because of all the kindnesses he does for others or the duties of his job. The apotheotic climax would come at the end, as he’s leaving/left on his “journey” (the story strongly implies death).
If you haven’t read Leaf by Niggle, download it and do so. It’s not that long.
Writing on spec is part of the screenwriter’s lot. You want guarantees, order Vinyl Repair.
(The above witty barb has promise, but I’m not 100% happy with “Vinyl Repair;” there may be a more familiar “guaranteed or your money back”-type television order item to plug in; feel free to substitute.)
Yes, Spinal Tap is the last word in mockumentary. I was thinking more along the lines of trying to pull off a total hoax using the form that reality-style television has perfected over the last ten years or so. No winking. Played straight, but going toward the outrageous.
But that’s for another time. Hear, hear, for any film undertaking. I’m readying myself to read all comments in order to understand the evolution and be on the same page. Will not say “Yes” to a function, however, since scaling one of my particular Lichtenbergian peaks will involve finding an entirely new collaborative mechanism for producing a film. Might as well draw a line in the sand here. Let’s keep talking.
Witty barbs are not your forte, marc. Stick to lengthy, convoluted (but playful) earnestness, permeated by angst and despair, but lightly peppered with hope and the belief in artistic process. It suits you better.
If we’re drawing lines in the sand, I am absolutely NOT writing a script “on spec.” No no no no no. Only if we are going to DO it. And I ain’t directing.
But enough of what we will not do. What WILL we do?
I like Dale’s rough outline, BTW.
As for “collaborative mechanism,” ain’t this it?
I’m on board for helping any way I can.
Ah, sir, you’ve nicked the tender underbelly. But it was my blunder in exposin’ it to ye, what?
Great, now I’m thinking about Marc’s tender underbelly.
I’m feeling tingly again.
You want guarantees, order a case of Crazy Glue. (With the possible tag: It’s guaranteed or your money back.)
Better. Not great, but it’s worth renewing the struggle. I was thrown off my game for a moment. I dreamed a prawn was playing pundit with my potential.
Where were we? Let me read Leaf by Niggle and get back to you.
Heard in a voice over: “Work on the Symphony goes slower than expected.”
George sits at kitchen table, tapping meditatively on daughter’s Fischer-Price glockenspiel. After a potent interval, George watches meditatively as the glockenspiel rolls slowly off the table and onto the floor, making a diatonic clatter. The dog, we see, still holds the end of the pull string in his mouth. George and dog have mute exchange of looks.
Screen: black
Audio: opening motif of IV. Lento, through opening notes of brass choir
Video: slowly fading in, still hazy, unidentifiable
—-
Audio: “Can you make that a double shot?”… music breaks off
Video: snaps into focus on the espresso machine
—-
Video: cut to George, turning, smiling, to customer
Audio: “Sure!”
—
Video: George finishes the order, humming the music to himself, trying to keep it in his head. He keeps accentuating the minor third; it’s a dismal sound. Perhaps a reax shot from the customer. Maybe a “working on something new?” to establish what we’re dealing with here.
We go on to see George attempt to wrestle his music moleskine notebook out to jot down what he’s just heard in his head, but he keeps getting distracted, perhaps by his buttocks friend.
What great images! I especially like the bit with the dog. Perfect.
Dale: After getting your email and listening to the mp3 again, this is making much more sense to me. I am getting the mood you are trying to set, and where we can go with that (Leaf by Niggle). I was headed in a completely different direction. But if we are going to use your music, and I don’t hear anyone else volunteering to write some, your approach is much better. Now we need to suggest some images, as Marc has, so you don’t end up writing the whole thing.
There are those passages I think of from noted composers’ notebooks, diaries or letters that are stereotypical; you hear them often read as voice-overs in documentaries about the composers or gushed out by the announcer on Performance Today when trying to fill air time. I think we could use them as part of a template for generating “images” or gags. We hear George throughout narrating with passages from his “diaries” or “letters” that echo with painful precision the pat passages from various noted composers’ reflections. We juxtapose George’s inflated narrations with some counterpoint situation that deflates or ironically deflects the passage. I’m analyzing what I did with my little bit earlier. Dale, no doubt, has read the lion’s share of composer musings and correspondence and could supply a catalog of exalted tropes on how the work proceeds and inspirations found (as well as the fussing over insufficient payments, inadequacies of vocalists, etc). Also dovetails nicely with the whole Lichtenbergian notion of “the Waste Book.”
I realize,now,it should be: “Work on the New Symphony goes slower than expected.”
I think marc is definitely on the right track here.
Voiceover: “I find myself growing impatient with the musicians and their lack of ability.”
George is tapping his baton with irritation.
“No, no, no. Look, it may not say rallentando but the phrasing makes it clear what is required. And on measure 43, look, I…I’m sorry, you, it’s Agatha, right? Agatha, please, it has to be sforzando there. You may think your attack is…, but, I’m sorry. It’s the cadential turn, okay. Stab it. Got that?”
A five-year-old Agatha, holding two wooden sticks, sits on a bench among four or more kids her age and looks like she’s about to cry.
Significant question: how much of a buffoon is George? Do we want the audience to sneer at him, or to shed a tear for him? Or something else?
Buffoon? No more than Sequoyah was. Or any Don Quixote type figure.
I think we, the audience, don’t sneer at him, no, but everyone else in the movie probably does. Especially his wife and relatives.
We’re all pressured to “be practical.” Basically, to be inhuman. To be an automaton, part of the machine. Watch your TV and shut up. Yet we also feel the need to contribute something, or to express some insight, to communicate. Death looms. That inner spark fades. We grow more grey with each passing year (and I’m not necessarily talking about hair.)
We should try to capture that. The long, slow fade into oblivion and what it means to fight against it. Everyone wants you to shut up and fade quietly into the night. But here you are, still alive, still feeling that there’s something vital to say, to do. No one else cares. Certainly the universe is indifferent. But you MUST produce SOMETHING of value, even if the value is only to yourself, before your times runs out.
The audience isn’t shedding a tear for HIM. The audience is shedding a tear for THEMSELVES. They should recognize themselves in him. We all want to be significant, perhaps even great. Alas, for most of us, it’s just not in the cards.
Then my symphony will be the perfect accompaniment.
What were Funt’s dicta for comedy writing? Steal, but try to be a nice guy, and one other one? And can’t we extend it to creation in general, implying a farce of cosmic proportions?
Dale’s question, to me, pertains to the distance from which we view George and the eyes through which we view him. And for the Cinemaaah, that’s a pretty crucial question. I haven’t read the Tolkein story, yet, but my reflexive take on our efforts so far moves to the comic. The gag with the kids (inspired by an “early start” music program we tried once at St. Paul’s with no recourse to actual early childhood music educators) is perhaps not right for George and is a bit cliche, but I was interested more in illustrating use of the template.
George’s acute self-consciousness and his inflated notebook entries can work together, I think, especially if we don’t view him through his self-consciousness. He’s not a Salieri, for instance.
Specimen for exploration and treatment. How do we approach the following basic situation: George chatting at a party with a stranger or remote acquaintance. He mentions his work on the Symphony.
Let’s try “scripting” various approaches,i.e, making choices in terms of dialogue, characters involved, sequence of shots, timing, texture, point of view, etc. We can explore questions of tone, emphasis, distance, etc.
I propose this specimen because I’ve been wrestling with whether or not to use a joke involving George making reference to a “new” symphony and his wife deflating by noting there is no “old” symphony, nor is there a “previous” symphony, and certainly no “last” symphony. Already this assumes a certain style which may or may not be right depending on how we want to go. The wife, if she is included in this scene, could just as easily, once catching George’s mention of the word “symphony,” take him by the elbow and lead him away from George’s listener and toward the food table. Or:
Wife: Now it’s “the new symphony”….?
G: A new symphony.
Wife: The…
G: My latest…
Wife: The…
G: The…next–
Wife: The.
(Pause)
Wife: The.
G:…The Symphony.
Wife (to listener): The.
G (to listener; attempt at chuckle): The symphony.
Wife (again to listener; no chuckle): The. George wants to tell you all about the symphony.
There are other possibilities, certainly more original ones, and they don’t have to be dialogue driven or operate at the same level of self-conscious wit. What are they?
Personally, I’d like to see a cinematic comedy which fuses Richard Lester and Robert Bresson. (Napoleon Dynamite may already have kind of succeeded in doing that.) Other preferences?
That dialogue is PRICELESS.
My take is that we’re going for someting kinda — tragicomic?
I’m thinking About Schmidt meets Hearts of Darkness (the Apocalypse Now “making of.”)
I want to laugh at George, but not sneer at him. And the only reason I want to laugh at him is because he reminds me of myself (and my friends). I certainly don’t feel superior to George in ANY way.
I think the audience should smile grimly. That is, his situation is absurd (in the technical sense), so we cannot but help find it comic; but we would feel it cruel to laugh at him.
They should root for him to succeed.
I think Dale is spot-on. Agree 100%
I invite one and all to make a decision about tone and play with the specimen. And by one and all, I mean one and all. How might the audience experience this moment through your views of George and of the Cinemaaah.
(I know I haven’t read the story, yet. Bear with me. We could still play with the specimen.)
I think the wife/listener scene works, especially if we see George trying to explain something that is very important to him but (as we all know from experience) very personal and very inchoate, to a listener who might be interested if only he could explain it correctly. His wife comes across not as the voice of reason but as one of a “killer of the process.” She’s an enemy.
I just want to say that word over and over again.
Cinemaaaah.
Cinemaaaaaaaah.
Say it like William F. Buckley.
A “paean to delusion”:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/07/books/review/07stossell.html
This figures into what we’re trying to do here, somehow, I’m sure. Can’t articulate exactly why, but I know it must be so.
Make sure to read the whole review (it’s two pages). The good stuff is on the second page.
“Hedonic thermostat.”
That’s nice.
I just had an insight on the “90% of drivers” shibboleth. I think it’s a fallacy. I may blog about it.
Yes, please. I do know one thing. My two oldest daughters have been knocked down a few pegs since they actually got behind the wheel. Until then, from the backseat, they were EXPERT drivers. After totaling a couple of cars, they’re a bit more humble.