In this amazing short by UK filmmaker Tom Jenkins, a lonely desk toy longs for escape from the dark confines of the office, so he takes a cross country road trip to the Pacific Coast in the only way he can – using a toy car and Google Maps Street View. This is stunning.

Watch:

Pop Chart Lab breaks down the taxonomy of movie monsters, from oogly to googly, from the classic to the very weird. Look at a larger version (like, huge) here.

If you like it, buy the print here.

A 1-minute silent explanation of Inception using only the OS X Finder. Via Kottke.

A week or so ago I was reading a review of David Lindsay-Abaire’s new play where the critic basically blamed the crappy ending (in his opinion) on Lindsay-Abaire’s foray into Hollywood:

“…The actors perform skillfully, but Lindsay-Abaire, who won a Pulitzer Prize for his play “Rabbit Hole,” has been spending time in Hollywood, and the industry’s habitual glibness infects the ending of the play, which seems as fraudulent as it is bewildering.”

That “habitual glibness” (which, I think, means a consistent paint-by-numbers approach no matter the film’s subject matter, although it’s such a wide-open phrase that it’s hard to tell) is definitely a part of screenwriting, but what this critic and many critics across the board seem to miss is that unless you’re one of the few high ranking writers known by name, there really isn’t any other way to get a movie made in Hollywood.

So by saying Lindsay-Abaire’s new play was “ruined” by a Hollywood sheen, what the critic is really saying is, “you know that ‘habitual glibness’ [excuse my vague phrase] that’s basically essential to getting a film made and screenwriter paid? I don’t like it.  And it makes for terrible endings.  And I refuse to get to the root of the problem which is that it’s really, really difficult for a writer to simultaneously make a critic and producer happy [even in theater] – so I’ll just blame it all on the writer.  For refusing to be creative.”

Critics and producers are like divorced parents who are so obsessed with their own agenda, they can’t possibly see that they’re tearing their child into pieces with their vastly diverging opinions. Read more »

[Note: this article was written before the airing of the March 8th episode. If the episode tonight is suddenly extremely awesome, this post may be moot. ...But I doubt it]

Glee, you broke my heart.

In the beginning, you made me happy.  In the beginning, you made me believe that TV was entering a new realm of sophistication and creativity.  Now?  You just mostly make me sad.  And also a little annoyed.

When you first premiered, Glee, I was one of your biggest fans.  As someone who spent two years of her life learning the art of musical theater, I continuously advocated for music and drama to combine on the small screen – it was uncharted territory (okay, not completely, but I think we all want to forget that strange, strange LSD trip that was Cop Rock), territory that had the possibility of reaching millions of people and providing them with an emotional release the way that only music and lyrics can.  When you came along, Glee, I finally felt like my prayers had been answered.  Not only were you hilarious and fresh, you were also keenly aware of how a well-placed song could move people.

But then…something started to happen.  You got…less fresh.  Sure, there were – and still are – moments of wip-smart humor, but you also started to come down with a case of cliche-itis.  Your drama began to veer down Cheesy Lane and your songs began to feel awkward – and you didn’t seem to care. Read more »

It was a Sunday night.  I was exhausted and on my second glass of wine and that’s probably why I didn’t protest when someone suggested putting on a movie starring Gerald Butler, Jamie Fox and the worst plot ever imagined.

I knew this film would suck.  I could just tell by looking at the DVD cover.  Also, I remembered critics panning it months back.  Two strikes.  But like I said: wine and exhaustion.  So someone slipped it into the TV and we all sat back to watch what turned out to be exactly the kind of lame, violent, stupidly plotted movie I thought it would.

What frustrated me about this film wasn’t the acting, or the surprise violence (I’d like to be warned before a bullet makes a person’s head explode, thank you very much), it was the fact that it even got made in the first place.

As freshly minted writers, every opportunity that comes our way is always packaged in a “this is your one chance so don’t screw it up” kind of way.  We work our asses off writing, rewriting, swallowing mind-numbing critique and even giving up scenes we’d practically date if given the chance.  We run mental triathlons because, well, our art has to be perfect – or no one’s going to give it a second thought.

So we beat ourselves up to create this expressive masterpiece, and then someone brings over a DVD that’s so full of every writing Don’t it makes our mouths hang open in disbelief.  How the hell does something like this get made?!  It’s awful.  Don’t tell me this was someone’s magnum opus.  It’s impossible.  The only way this makes sense is if a bunch of big execs came up with it in the back of a party van on the way to a strip club. Read more »

There is a place where great screenplays go to die.  Dialogue that had been analyzed for days – three or four words that had been written and rewritten to get the feeling just right – can meet its gruesome death on the lips of an unprepared actor that wasn’t right for the role to begin with.  That beautiful moment between the protagonist and his mother (a pivotal point in their relationship where they realize they can get along after all) dies in the arms of a gaffer who is also the assistant director and script supervisor and doesn’t know how to light a scene for shit.  An emotional monologue meant to soften our views of a villain isn’t even given the chance to live because it seems the audio file was deleted when the stressed director/editor realizes he is out of memory and formats a hard drive prematurely.

While I’ve seen many screenplays that were terrible on their own before it hit the set of a student film, I find that even some of the best scripts I’ve read can suffer under the often stressful and hectic conditions of a student shoot.

So, when a student film comes out that was not only able to preserve the integrity of the original screenplay but goes so above and beyond that it should really no longer be labeled a student film, a nice round of applause isn’t really enough.

Adriano Valentini graduated from NYU’s undergraduate film program in 2008 – the same year he produced his short film, Clubscene, about a turning point in the life of twenty-something Montreal bartender, Gabe.  I had the pleasure of reading the script before it went into production and held my breath in hopes that the shoot would do the script justice.  Adriano turned out to be as good at directing as he is at writing and the movie went on to receive the Wasserman/King Finalist Award and NYU’s First Run Screenwriting Award the following year, allowing Adriano to present his film at the DGA Theater in Hollywood.  He chose not to abandon the project upon graduation like many film students do and continued to work with the characters of Clubscene, releasing even shorter short films focusing on one character at a time – specifically “The Bartender” and “The Underager.”  His hard work was rewarded with The Bartender becoming an official selection at the Brooklyn International Film Festival this year and becoming a finalist for The Chris Columbus/Richard Vague Fund to pursue directing a feature.

Perhaps it’s envy or perhaps it’s awe, but something was needling me and prompted me to find out what goes on in that brain of his.  What set Adriano apart from the other students (myself included)? Below, we talk a little about inspiration, the writing process, cultural influences, and how the characters make the story: Read more »

What happened to patient 67? An abstract plot twist, that's what.

I don’t know if anyone really noticed, but the advertising campaign for Scorsese’s latest joint, the misty Shutter Island, was built around the film’s “shocking twist ending.” This was interesting to me — instead of advertising the cast or the director, or flashing a bunch of positive reviews, most of the ads for this flick I saw seemed to hint at some genius plot twist, something so mind-bending that I had to go experience it for my self. So I did. And although I thought the ending was actually kind of obvious, it did get me thinking about other famous plot twists that screenwriters have employed over the years.

First though, what separates a good twist ending from a gimmicky or contrived deus ex machina? Not much really. I think a good twist ending should illuminate everything that we’ve seen so far not only in a new way, but also in a way that resonates with the theme of what we’re watching. We should want to mentally race through what we’ve just seen, ascribing new significance to everything. We should be Totally. Freaked. Out. But the ending should also never, ever feel forced or non-sensical; then, the emotion the viewer is left with is not surprise or amazement but anger, anger that they’ve just wasted two hours of their life. (The Wikipedia entry on plot twists is actually really interesting, in that it classifies the different official names for each iteration.) Anyways, here are some of my favorite plot twists: Read more »

I was inspired by Jacket Copy’s classic literature web movie and so put together one of my own using the simple (and free) online animated moviemaking tool xtranormal. Below is a video featuring part of a scene from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet–with the titular characters as robots. Xtranormal only has sterile, computer-generated voices to provide the dialogue, but in this context I’m thinking it kind of works.

After the jump, watch Jacket Copy’s Pride and Prejudice web video. Read more »

Ed. Note: We got tired of all the ‘best-of’ lists of the past decade. So we had writer-filmmaker D.W. Lichtenberg write a best-of list of the next decade. Enjoy.

Recently, I invented a time machine. I traveled into the future for the sole purpose of seeing every movie that will be released in the coming decade. That way, I could be the first person to write a “best of the decade” movie list. And don’t worry, I didn’t cheat by traveling further into the future and copying everyone else’s top ten. But I do believe that this list will alter the future, and it’s because of this list that some of these movies will soon exist. Read more »