Michael Mann’s commentary on the Restored Director’s Cut of MANHUNTER focuses primarily on the parallel psychology of the serial murderer and the cop. But let’s skip to the last few minutes of the commentary in which Michael Mann summarises his approach to filmmaking.

“Film is made in the editing room. In the writing and in the director’s preparation you’re planning what you’re gonna do in the editing room.”

He then refers to the Russian theory of montage from the 1920’s, which was followed by the Brits in the next decade (and used later to great commercial success by Alfred Hitchcock a.o.).

Anybody with a real interest in the effect of montage, should really do some reading on Lev Kuleshov and what is still known as the Kuleshov Effect. Using this, one could build a case that, if story is structure (which is what Stephen Gaghan doesn’t like), therefore transitions are structure.

Isn’t it remarkable that seventy years apart, two Russians were telling the world about transitions in their respective art forms?

Gaghan writes like a director. Similarly, Michael Mann is already thinking of what he will do in the editing room and therefore writes his story from scene transitions rather than starting from the overall dramatic arc.

(originally published 06/05/2006, edited 31/10/2007)

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BRUBAKER strays from the traditional structure because of its offbeat First Act. It lacks an Inciting Incident, nor does it have any significant protagonist characterisation. We witness from Robert Redford’s character’s POV how the most appalling injustice and brutality is inflicted relentlessly upon his fellow inmates.

Over thirty minutes into the movie, Redford’s character identifies himself suddenly as the new warden and announces in the same scene he wants to force through some serious reform.

Finally we have a 1st Act Turning Point.

But why was the warden’s identity hidden from the audience all along? Apart from a sudden surprise, it doesn’t add a thing. The use of dramatic irony (i.e.: the audience knows, but the other characters don’t) would have been much more powerful and it would have allowed for the badly needed character development.

Roger Ebert wrote:

“There’s no room for the spontaneity of real human personalities caught in real situations. That’s especially annoying with the character of Brubaker himself, played well but within a frustratingly narrow range by Robert Redford.”

Redford’s performance is rock solid given the material. BRUBAKER’s real problem is its flawed structure: half an hour into the movie, we have run out of screentime to sufficiently set up the protagonist’s character and potential internal conflicts. Redford didn’t have anything to work with, which makes Ebert’s comment rather unfair.

What the screenwriters did achieve quite well though, is the setup of antagonists and external obstacles in the way of the protagonist’s objective. Perhaps this explains why the film did work for me.

(originally published 06/05/2006, edited 31/10/2007)

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In her PLOT CONSTRUCTION WORKSHOP, Linda Aronson discusses THE INSIDER as an example of a flawed script.

The film not only put Russell Crowe on the celeb map with a Best Actor Nomination, it was also nominated for another six awards including Best Picture, Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay. That’s a pretty good result for a ‘failed script’. As a matter of fact, Linda’s move smells a bit like my not so smart move to call WOLF CREEK a ‘missed opportunity’ inside the offices of the FFC.

But Linda is right when she says the script does not follow a straightforward three act plot.

Here are two main stories with three acts each, hooked into each other.

In a sense it is similar to SCHINDLER’S LIST, in which it is Itzhak Stern’s (Ben Kingsley) objective to get as many Jews into the factory as possible. Once we are well into his journey’s second act and over an hour into the film, Schindler (Liam Neeson) witnesses the clearing of the Krakow ghetto which demarcates his first act’s turning point. Now his objective is to get the workers out of the factory and into safety.

Think about it: the Schindler character doesn’t really have a strong enough dramatic objective to get the story to that point. But Stern does. Hence his function as the ‘first protagonist’.

Similarly, in THE INSIDER it is Wigand’s (Russell Crowe) Second Act objective to get his inside information safely to Bergman (Al Pacino), at which point we’re already into Bergman’s Second Act, which is all about getting the information to the public through his television show. Obviously we are now only talking about what Vogler would call the Hero’s Outer Journey, i.e. the ‘visible desire’. But I believe the Inner Journeys of these characters follow largely the same structure.

To me these two movies illustrate that:

Stories don’t have three acts, but strong characters do.

(originally published 24/04/2006)

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In a government document relating to script development I found the phrase ‘omnipotent POV’. In a specialised screenwriting magazine I read “omnipresent POV”(*).

Both are just plain wrong. If they can’t even get the terminology right, there is reason to be concerned about their understanding of the concept.

The correct term is ‘omniscient’, and means ‘knowing everything’. It is the divine, ‘God’s eye’ perspective.

‘Omniscient POV’ in film means: a point of view outside any of the story’s characters. The audience knows and sees everything that is relevant to know about everybody in the story. Because film relies heavily on empathy with the characters, this is not a POV that would typically be taken throughout the story.

Although the technique sometimes works when told by a narrator and/or when a story is one long flashback, it is hardly ever used consistently throughout a film.

The fact that the term exists, doesn’t mean the technique is to be recommended in film.

The very nature of the omniscient POV goes against the essence of good screen drama, which is firmly grounded in strong emotional empathy with (an) individual character(s).

An omniscient POV suggests a certain distance from the characters, which is exactly what you don’t want. In my view, what most people mean by an omniscient POV is a shifting POV.

Frank Daniel used the term ‘dramatic irony‘, which makes more sense than the phrase ‘omniscient POV’. The irony lies in the fact that the audience knows something the protagonist doesn’t. And usually this information is crucial, it has a great impact on the protagonist’s journey.

The term dramatic irony is also consistent with the notion of ‘dramatic tension’, which is the foundation of all drama.

A great example of dramatic irony is used – and explained – in the movie STRANGER THAN FICTION when literature professor Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman) elaborates on the phrase “Little did he know…”. Because the technique is used as an explicit plot device, the notion of ‘omniscient character’ gets definitely blurred.

Karen Eiffel (Emma Thompson) may be the writer of the Harold Crick’s (Will Ferrell) life, but is she therefore truly omniscient?

Not in this film…

See also:

Introduction to POV
Omniscient POV
Shifting POV
When to Shift?
POV in Ratatouille’s Deleted Scene
POV as Controller of Tone

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Imagine this:

A toddler looks at a man pulling funny faces, moving his limbs in crazy spasms. He falls on the ground, he hits his head. The toddler jumps with excitement.

A female bystander watches the scene, her face contorted, fighting back tears.

The introduction of the woman suddenly gives us a reliable POV. Although we still don’t know exactly what is happening, we are instantly trapped inside her mind, whether we like it or not. Is she the man’s wife? Is he having an epileptic fit? It doesn’t matter: the scene is emotionally disturbing because it is for her.

In a scene with a madman, actions and dialogue can be absolutely hysterical. But put us in the POV of one if his victims and the scene turns pitch black.

It happens, often in cross-genre films, that a scenes tone is not clear. Should we be scared or laugh? Dark comedies have this problem, but extremely suspenseful thrillers and horror movies may struggle in this field, too.

Sometimes audiences just can’t bear the suspense and resort to laughter as a pressure-valve. I’m not talking about the latter instance, as the intention of the scene is mostly clear: extreme suspense or fear.

If however the problem of a confusing interpretation occurs in a script or film more frequently, it may have an effect on the overall genre. Is it a horror or a spoof? A thriller or a dark comedy? By advertising a film in a specific genre, the audience is gently guided as to how to interpret ambiguous scenes. Cross-genre pictures are often unsuccessful because they are called this just because of the ambiguity of tone.

The problem: there shouldn’t be ambiguity as to the emotional content of a scene. You can be open about certain information, about your moral standpoint until the end of the film. But the emotional content should be clear or else empathy may be diluted and your statement at the end won’t work.

As in the example above, POV is an excellent tool to streamline the tone of a scene, sequence, film. Once an action or event is seen through the eyes of a character who has an emotional commitment, it will become clear how we are supposed to experience the scene and its impact will be much stronger.

See also:

Introduction to POV
Omniscient POV
Shifting POV
When to Shift?
POV in Ratatouille’s Deleted Scene
POV as Controller of Tone

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Often when filmmakers use the term ‘omniscient point of view’, I believe what they really mean is: ’shifting point of view’.

Most of the film will still be told from the standpoint of one ore more individual characters, shifting from one scene to the next and from one character to the next.

Even in films like SUNSET BOULEVARD and AMERICAN BEAUTY, where the protagonist is dead and looking back at his life – an almost divine POV – this privilege is not extended for the whole duration of the film. We stay within the limited perspective of the character at the very time of the events, without the power of hindsight.

If the omniscient character is also the story’s narrator, the omniscient POV usually only kicks in on act or sequence breaks. Hardly ever will an omniscient character interrupt a climactic scene or sequence.

In an article about conventions of the horror genre, Phil Parker states a prerequisite of the genre is an omniscient POV. But is the omniscient POV really a primary element of the genre? Ultimate fear can be suggested powerfully from a single POV and does not need an omniscient POV.

“Action is often seen from the antagonist’s POV, secondary characters are often given whole scenes or sequences without the central protagonist, and the audience are often shown things which neither the protagonist nor the antagonist can have seen or known.” (Phil Parker)

When Parker says “seen from the antagonist’s POV”, he is effectively admitting this is not an omniscient POV.

“Secondary characters are often given whole scenes” proves we are talking about a shifting POV rather than an omniscient one.

See also:

Introduction to POV
Omniscient POV
Shifting POV
When to Shift?
POV in Ratatouille’s Deleted Scene
POV as Controller of Tone

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