From Silent Films to Manufactured-People Films?

           The superbly quirky, clever, surprising, and touching movie, The Artist, takes audiences back to the late-1920s when the movie industry almost overnight transitioned from silent films to “talkies” (films with synchronized, recorded dialogue).  It was not a bloodless evolution.  Actors, whose larger-than-life acting techniques or personal idiosyncrasies did not translate well to talking pictures, fell by the wayside.  This pitiless development is depicted lightheartedly in the movie musical classic, Singin’ in the Rain, and treated with a bit more emotional punch in The Artist. 

           What strikes me is that the movie industry might be undergoing another profound, if not overnight, transition.  More and more animated films are appearing (some so lifelike it’s eerie, like Polar Express and Avatar).  Are we seeing another upheaval in cinema that’s trending toward films in which, ironically, only the voices of actors are used?  And what happens when computer technology “progresses” to the point where computer-generated speech is perfectly identical to human speech?  Between computer-generated images and computer-generated speech, film acting as a profession could become a thing of the past.  Even in many of today’s live-action films (as opposed to animation), it’s virtually impossible to distinguish between computer-generated background images and scenes shot with flesh-and-blood actors on location.  A tempest in a teakettle?  Don’t tell that to the various actor unions which are scrambling to decide how to deal with this burgeoning threat to their profession. 

           Maybe decades from now we’ll see entertaining and touching animated films portraying the quaint old early 21^st century when the movie industry transitioned from real-people films to totally computer-made, manufactured-people feature films.

"Look Back in Anger" as Angry as Ever

I just saw Roundabout Theatre Company's production of the (in its time) groundbreaking play, Look Back in Anger, by John Osborne. It’s a play that sizzles with rage and resentment, and it’s the play that gave rise to the term, “angry young men.” This production is slightly trimmed from the 1956 original; a scene and character were deleted (presumably with the permission of the copyright owner), but even so the play is as brilliant and disturbing and heartbreaking as ever, excellently well-played by the cast. It’s unrelenting fury and tragic sadness over a generation’s sense of alienation and powerlessness make you squirm in your seat. Though there is humor – and some surprises – it’s like a bloody traffic accident you can’t take your eyes off of. The staging is minimal, stark, and dreary – just right for the mood needed. Matthew Rhys’s playing of the inconsolably angry Jimmy Porter eerily evokes a young Richard Burton. It's a piece of theatre history you probably don't want to miss – particularly if you write plays. This production clearly demonstrates the power of theatre to provoke and evoke. But fasten your seatbelt; it’s a turbulent ride. (Go to http://www.roundabouttheatre.org/Shows-Events/Look-Back-in-Anger.aspx.)

Originality? Don’t Sweat the Big Stuff!

Many writers bedevil themselves with the perceived need to be original. They hope to come up with some idea for their play, novel, short story, poem, whatever, that’s never been done before. Here’s the good news: don’t sweat the big stuff. Originality is rarely found in the plot; it comes in the treatment and details of the story. It’s in the characters you create, the setting of the story, and the language of the characters.

The classic musical, West Side Story, is really what? Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet of course, brought to the gang-plagued West Side of Manhattan of the 1950s. In fact, Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, and Jerome Robbins did their best to stick faithfully to Shakespeare’s storyline. The features that make WSS its own classic – and original – work of theatre are the specific and appealing characters created, the resetting of the story in (then) modern-day New York, and, of course, the addition of music, song, and dance.

Take a look at the hit TV series, House. While there are, yes, slight variations, the plot is essentially the same week after week. Dr. House is presented with a seemingly impossible case to diagnose. He badgers and bullies his diagnostic team until he comes up with the brainstorm that leads to the solution, and the patient is saved. Yet despite the repetitious pattern, millions are addicted to the show, fascinated by the quirky characters, the fast-paced and edgy dialogue, and the havoc House wreaks as the mystery unfolds.

So don’t get hung up on the notion of finding an unprecedented plot. There probably is no such thing. Your creative juices are better spent putting your personal spin on an idea that intrigues you.

And, not incidentally, Will S. did not originate the Romeo and Juliet story. It was “borrowed” from a 1562 narrative poem, “The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet” by Arthur Brooke, which, in turn was probably based on an earlier Italian novella, which in turn was ...