The Movie Club Redux, Part 18: Sexiest Man Alive?

TO: Tavis, Levi, Lin
FROM: Boltron
RE: Resignation

Tavis, I completely agree with you about Michael Clayton. I read the Newmarket published screenplay (love that series!) and it was a wonderful read from front to back, much like a perfect novella in screenplay format.

Sadly, I don't think most screenplays read nearly that well. And, in fact, screenplays can be a chore to read. Shane Black may have pumped up Lethal Weapon with a bit of style and voice, but in general those are traits best rewarded in prose, not screenwriting. Especially when the first screenwriter so rarely ends up being the last (or, in the blockbuster realm, even among the last twenty) to work on the script.

This is why I've begun to feel that writers with a distinctive Voice ought to pursue prose over screenwriting. In fact, if some neophyte were to ask me how to "make it" as a screenwriter (like I'd know), I would say, "Write a novel and sell it." Which is laughable, I'm sure, to the millions of wanna-be novelists compiling mountains of rejection slips — but as someone who works for a big online bookseller, I can attest that many, many, MANY novels are published every year (far more than films are produced), and most of them really suck.

How much do they suck? We get boxes of free advanced reader copies every single week. And the books just sit there.

They're free and nobody wants them. Any wonder the buying public doesn't feel like plunking down $25 for the hardcover?

The ones that work, however, work chiefly because the author's Voice is strong and irresistible. If you can compose intelligible sentences, write strong characters and snappy dialogue, and keep your plot on the rails — and if you can achieve a unique, compelling Voice — I'm confident you can get your novel published.

And then sell the movie rights. And then write the screenplay. And, presto! There's your new screenwriting career. Congratulations.

Gentlemen, this weekend I did the truly unthinkable: I broke down and read the script for Juno.

(No, I did not pay $10 to see it in the theater. And having read the script, I'm ever so thankful I didn't.)

I had much the same reaction that Tavis did: not brilliant (though we already knew that), but not
terrible. Really, just sort of blah. There wasn't much in the way of conflict (or humor, I thought),
and the quirky-cool dialogue continued to annoy me throughout — but it's true, the first ten
minutes are the worst, and it settles down after that.

It did get me thinking about my own scripts. There is a simplicity to the storyline and streamlined plotting that runs in stark contrast to my work, where the narrative is too often cluttered and antic. I confess, I've been terrified to slow down and just let the characters and story breathe, for fear that if I stop spinning and spinning, the plates will come clattering down around me. Now I'm thinking very differently.

But the script for Juno also possesses a clarity of emotion. This may be its greatest strength in the eyes of the moviegoing public and, perhaps, WGA voters. It doesn't aim for greatness, just small observation, which it does well — I just wish what it was observing felt more genuine to me. It aims to tug the heartstrings just a tad, and that's all it does, and it works on that level.

Diablo Cody's writing is still vastly overrated, I feel — especially compared to what Tony Gilroy does with Michael Clayton — but not worth the venom I've injected into it.

And with that, I hereby resign as President and Dictator-for-Life of the He-Man Diablo Cody Haters Club.