
I'm not recommending this book, and nor am I strictly speaking recommending the film, though there's something inherently spooky about any film set in snow and ice (viz: John Carpenter's 'The Thing') but today, as temperatures really did plummet to the low 20's, and our boycott of Iraqi oil began to seem a trifle premature (when will that Alaskan stuff arrive?) we set about getting mediaeval on the storylines posteriors.
That is, to really pull at the ideas to see whether they could take a bit of wear and tear.
My general criticism would be that a collection of ideas does not neceassarily make a good story, and each person seemed to be (understandably) going for a proliferation of ideas rather than a deepening of one single groove - the groove that would be the characteristic feel of their story.
K. has an ambitious double storyline (though she may not realize this) which involves not only the flight proper (what's the cause? what's the trajectory? where are the reversals that make the entire journey not merely peripatetic? Which border?) all this alongside a reflexive structure which has the protagonist trying to document and communicate his (sic) journey, something along the lines of setting up an Underground railroad. I liked that idea, but wonder how it can be integrated into one short segment.
A. mooted that if everyone really went all the way, we'd have a series. Maybe. I don't know if we have the force and time to set that up, though.
R. is working on the idea of the 'passive slackers', and I am trying to get some pro-active sense into that. It's true that the simple fact of a bunch of friends riffing can be amusing, and the background tension of their risk will stop it being trivial (gallows humor, or our perception of the danger not tallying with their willful ignorance of it) but as with the actual situation, a story that goes nowhere can be dull, too. Where can the spark of movement come from if not a melodramatic shock ending (e.g. a police raid)? Perhaps K's 'activist' could be the odd one out in that group of slackers? His communications could then be to his less urgent friends?
All these questions.
E. seemed to agree (provisionally) that the interviews with actual Vets could work as an anchor for the stories. From any war. Or even the parents of soldiers in the current conflict. I'd like to make these 'interviews' look as beautiful and well thought-out as the fictions, so they flow seamlessly. Not just talking heads. We discussed the methodology of spending real time and forging a sincere relationship with these people (who we canvas for) as opposed to the usual TV style Q&A sessions.
Further blurring the line between fact and fiction, which is something of the point of the whole exercise.
G. has a fantasy style story involving an 'imaginary friend'. I wonder if this can work with the proliferation of plot elements, and not tend to dispersal. certainly, holding off the revelation of the 'imaginary' nature of the friend could help, which would allow a peppering of magical (ish) elements into the story. What are the couple doing in the woods? Living out some eco-fantasy? But I have a feeling that this just might not fit in a larger piece, but be a film in its own right.
Indeed, this is becoming the major task right now - focussing the stories individually so they can stand on their own legs and survive being placed in a longer structure.
This one technique / question came up several times: the tension (and interest) caused by the gap between what the characters know and what the audience knows.
(sidebar: also saw 'In The Wild' this weekend. Not bad, but similarly unfocussed and linear with very few layers (why it's so long and diffuse). I recognized several themes in that film flowing through our own (which is reasonable as they come from the same time and space). Ivy had a deeper suggestion, thoguh, to help understand the different story shaopes we are looking at. Doubtless this is an American story, and (selon Ivy) there are two archetypes - the picaresque (i.e. a journey strung over chapters and length) and the Gothic - entrapment and isolation from the unknown. I'd be tempted to say that the former accepts the essential source of all American tales: the Land, while the latter rejects the Land as hostile. Which fits with 'In The Wild' too.
Other themes and character traits have been thrown around, too, but none have been sufficiently developed to hang together as a story.
J. has what I believe is a very strong core, but needs to explore the implications of the power of the premise. It's a very rich story but one that need a lot of deep thinking to skate around dogma and cliches. Yes - 'a woman's right to choose' is in there somewhere. But in this case, there are lives on each side of the equation. We need to look rather unflinchingly at these 'choices'.
Well, I wanted to try to bring some questionous rigour to the debate today, but ended up being the Script Nazi, i think.
Soldier on.
Oh, and R. ran into Orion Hinckley, who will give a visit in the next days. Well, that's one way of finding the lost author without using the internet.
Chinese restaurants. They have a lot to answer for.