The Screenplay Formula and Why Movies are so Homogenized

You might hear a lot of people question why so many movies have such a similar tone; as if they're all of the same genre, or made by a few filmmakers with exactly the same tastes.  You may have noticed this yourself and added your voice to the plethora of bloggers, vloggers, and other fans who have expressed their frustrations at how all movies seem alike now.

This might seem a bit like the old man going, "it' ain't like the good ol' days," but there's a strong truth to it, and a reason for it.  As an example, when Star Wars and Star Trek movies came out in the late '70s and early '80s, there was a strong distinction between them.  You went to Star Wars and got an action packed adventure.  You went to Star Trek and got an intriguing mystery.  Even the action scenes were completely different.  In Star Wars you got fast cuts with small ships or individuals shooting rapid fire shots at one another.  In Star Trek you had longer wide shots of large ships laboriously turning on one another while their crews discussed the best way to win.

Neither style was better.  It was like going to a restaurant.  No one wants the same food every day.  If you want Mexican food, you go to a Mexican restaurant.  If you want Italian food, you go to an Italian restaurant.  You switch it up to have a variety.  Hell, even films made by the same director had very different feels.  Take for instance Spielberg's Raiders of the Lost Ark versus Jaws.  Their tone and style was so different that they seem like they're made by completely different filmmakers.

But now you could replace the title of one film with another and hardly anyone would notice.  In computer gaming terms, it's like changing the skins.  So what caused this?  Well, there are numerous theories, and I'm sure many of them have truth as any subject of this magnitude will naturally have a lot of answers.  But I've come to believe there's one overall reason.

Screenplay formulas.

For decades, filmmakers and theorists have been trying to narrow down what makes a film "work."  Understanding this will cause filmmaking to be less risky, and solve psychological mysteries of taste.  So people set about writing books on screenwriting, observing what has been respected and loved in movies, and trying to capture the reason for the magic in them.  The result of all this research was a multitude of formulas.  Books from Adventures in the Screen Trade to The Foundations of Screenwriting to Story to the Writer's Journey all try to identify the genie in the bottle.

These books do provide a basis for good practices in screenwriting.  For instance, they remind a writer to not linger too long in their introduction of the characters and the situation.  They provide guidance on moving the plot forward, and ideas for creating dynamic story beats.  These are positive guidelines to follow.

The Hypocrisy of the Academy Award Popular Film Category

This year the Academy Awards tried to add the popular film category; an attempt to appease viewers that ultimately got mocked and failed.  This category is widely seen to have been added because of two things: the popularity of Black Panther, a bandwagon upon which the Academy wanted to jump without actually considering it for best picture, and lower ratings of the show in general.

I'm actually not going to talk about whether or not Black Panther deserves to win, or even a nomination.  It was a very good movie, and it also had some glaring flaws.  Most of all, though, the whole subject of its merit brings out the absurdity of what a "best picture" is.  Can we really declare a single movie to be the best when there are so many genres and styles?  Isn't it like comparing apples and oranges to a degree?

But what I find particularly ludicrous is the hypocrisy that created this apparent need for a popular category.  The idea that something popular needs a separate category from best implies that if something makes a lot of money, it is inherently inferior to something that doesn't make a lot of money.  While certainly the motivation for wealth can be separate from the motivation for art, the idea that something that is popular can't be great is the very wrongful thinking that caused Hitchcock to never win a regular award, and why one eluded Spielberg for so long.

But what of you, Academy Awards?  Isn't the major reason why you're doing this so you keep your audience?  We all hear you every time you complain that the audience numbers are shrinking.  If the Academy Awards really believed that art and commerce are so separate, why are they so concerned with their own ratings?  It seems to me that if you're going to frown upon popular films that make money and smugly hold films that don't on a pedestal, then you shouldn't be so concerned about your own wealth.

But if ratings are so important, maybe stop looking down on those producers who are literally doing the exact same thing as you.

The Hollywood Reporter and Titanic

I worked at The Hollywood Reporter as a temp for a couple years.  While there, I listed films that were being made, as well as box office results on Mondays.  The most interesting of these was when Titanic came out.

First, as it was coming close to release, everyone was certain it was going to be a failure.  I mean everyone, including people who would deny it today.

One might think that this was proven wrong on opening weekend, but it wasn't.  Titanic was not a huge success when it released.  In fact, its initial numbers were... adequate, but certainly nothing amazing.  All those reporters and editors who had predicted its failure chuckled and went on wondering what would be the next big film to come out to fail or succeed.

The next weekend, Titanic did just sort of okay, and they dismissed it.  It was slowly sinking, just like the ship.

The problem is, it stayed put more like a buoy.  The following weekend it did okay.  Then the next weekend it did okay.  Then the next, and the next.  It stayed at about 20 million each weekend.  That's not great results for an opening, but for a fifth week, sixth, seventh... unheard of.  It just kept making a basic, steady amount of money, never dropping.  And from remaining like this for such a long time, it wound up being the largest money maker of all time.

It should serve as a lesson to those who only look at opening weekend box office, but does it?  Most assuredly not.

Titanic's Special Effects Team Expected the Film to Fail

A few years after I had graduated, NYU invited alumni in LA to go visit a special effects studio called Digital Domain.  The company had offered the tour to us, and it was a fun time.  Digital effects were new, so it was unusual to see so many computers creating the images.  The one I remember passing was a sailboat being passed by the Titanic.

We went into one room where they had very recently done the effect of the Titanic hitting the iceberg.  The model of the ship had been attached by a chain to one truck, and the iceberg was attached to another truck by a chain, and the two trucks drove quickly in opposite directions, crashing the two props together.  So high tech!

Afterward, they took us into their meeting room, which they called "the whale's belly."  It was a big wood structure that was supposed to look like a whale's belly.  There, they told us the real reason they wanted to give us this tour.  They closed the door and were very secretive about it.  They said the movie they were working on was going to fail miserably.  They had been working for James Cameron for a while, and they believed this was going to be his downfall.  When it happened, they were prepared to start their own production company, and they wanted to have projects ready to go.

Since they were a special effects studio already, they wanted projects that would heavily involve special effects.  So they asked us to gather up our ideas for movies and/or TV shows that would involve a lot of special effects.  I immediately started thinking of something.  It made sense to do so; after all, it had been Star Wars that got me interested in making movies to begin with.

I began running this through my head, and I continued to think about it as we went to dinner at The Rose next door.  What I came up with were the very first inklings of the ideas that would become Relic Worlds.  It was nothing like it's become since then, but it was the initial idea.

I pitched the concept with some scenes and a summary to them soon after.  The man who had initially told us to pitch ideas to him, Steve, responded saying it sounded good, and he wanted to speak with me further about it after the release of the movie.

Titanic, of course, wound up being a huge hit.  Steve stopped responding to me; and to this day, I'm sure he denies ever having said Titanic would fail.

M. Knight Shyamalan Martial Arts Pic from NYU

When I was at NYU I was hired for a short time to take photos around campus.  Supposedly it was for a yearbook they were doing, but I don't remember seeing any such yearbook.  At any rate, it was experience and a small amount of pay, so I did it.

At one point I was photographing the fencing team, a sport of which I partook.  A small martial arts class took place on the other side of the room, and the coach approached me and asked me to photograph his team.  I did, and I exposed the photo and sent it on.  I don't know if they used it or not, but years later I noticed something interesting.

I read an article that said M. Knight Shyamalan had been in a martial arts class at NYU.  I thought, hmm, I wonder... I looked at the photo and found that he was in the martial arts pic.

Crashing Billy Crystal’s Party

I was working at Universal Studios in the late ‘90s filing contracts, and sometimes I saw strange things when I would leave.  Once I had a couple friends visiting for some reason.  I don’t remember for certain why they were there, but I remember one of them was a costumer, so I think I was introducing her to someone.  Anyway, I had a really crusty car at the time.  When it moved it sounded like it was having a perpetual fart.  It was barely holding together, having rust all over, several colors of paint, and a window that was being held up with a stick.  There was even writing on the back, “OBO” which stood for “Or best offer.”  It had said “900 OBO” but I had wiped off the 900.  I couldn’t get the rest off, so it remained, and the car became known as Obo.

As we were leaving, we got stuck behind a line of fancy black cars, many of them limos.  They were stopping in front of the Europe part of the backlot, letting people off, then continuing forward.  When we got to the front, valets opened the doors and rushed, almost pushed, us out, then one took the car and “sppppppp” sped the car away.  We were all dressed better than the car looked, so we sort of fit in with the suit and tuxedo clad men and women in their fancy dresses, so we strolled into the event.

There were tables with large meals on them, so we sat down to eat.  Pretty soon, Billy Crystal stepped up to the mic at the front and began speaking.  Soon we realized we had stumbled into a charity event and eating plates that were costing others thousands of dollars to attend.  We felt guilty, (but not too guilty to have another course or two,) so we eventually wandered off.  We walked up the hill toward the suburbs area.  During the day, it was hard to go up here because the tour trams went through, but in the evening, it was an easier walk.

We got to a point where we could see a huge cliff wall that had been built over the water where actors were climbing around.  They were shooting Jurassic Park 3.  I knew it had been written lately; I had don’t the paperwork for the writer’s contract.  It had been Alexander Payne, an acquaintance whom I had met a few times at the Nebraska Coast Connection.  It was a bit depressing to see how many hundreds of thousands of dollars he was being paid for something he wrote over a weekend, (we did the paperwork on a Friday and the script came in on a Monday,) but I needed to get over that and focus on my own work.

We weren’t there long before someone found us and told us we couldn’t hang around, so we strolled back to the event which we passed through to return to my car.  I gave the ticket to the valet and waited.  It was quite a while before we heard “sppppppppp” in the distance, and after several more limos and fancy black cars passed by picking up their wealthy patrons, my little crusty Obo pulled up and we climbed inside under the judgmental gaze of those around.  Then we scurried out of there, the car sputtering fumes and going “spppppppppppppp!”

Beginning Film School at NYU

Having grown up in Nebraska, switching to New York City for college was an obvious culture shock.  However, it never felt as strange as many people thought it would be for me.  I was ready for a change, and I was ready to learn a bit about filmmaking.  The most education I had had was a class run by someone who believed nothing good had been made since Casablanca.

Ironically, a film had come out the summer before I went off to NYU called The Freshman.  This was not only a wild coincidence because it was about a young man starting college, but also because he was beginning school at NYU studying film.  I wondered how true it was going to be for me, especially in regard to the teacher who was so obsessed with The Godfather that he couldn’t talk about anything else.

I had some teachers like that, but more on that later.

The screening of The Freshman I went to was empty, as though it was a private screening for me; a warning.  I didn’t know how to take that, and I still don’t, but it was something that stood out.

The other movie that ultimately had a lot of meaning for me about that time was Pump up the Volume.  I saw it while on the way to New York.  My dad and I stopped off for the night in Pennsylvania.  He wanted to see something I wasn’t at all interested in, and he wasn’t interested in my Christian Slater movie, so we agreed to meet afterward.

At the time I thought Pump up the Volume was just an okay flick.  But on retrospect, it was very foretelling.  The story is about a young man who runs an underground radio station, broadcasting his views on life that really connect to other teenagers.  The FCC comes down hard on him for illegally broadcasting, and he sends a message to everyone to make their voices heard.

This movie could not be remade now because the concept of getting your voice heard is taken for granted.  With Youtube, podcasting, blogging, and all sorts of other ways to get your voice heard, the idea that you once had to go through a filter is gone.  But that really characterizes the difference between the world I was trying to break into as a storyteller at the time, and the world today.  In the 20^th century you had to ask permission to get your story told; permission from a movie studio or a book publisher or a magazine or a film festival.  That changed throughout the 2000s.  IFilm started to change that on the internet, but failed when they decided to become like the film festivals.  Little did they know that people were tired of that mentality, and they went by the wayside in favor of Youtube and blogs.

Now Pump up the Volume seems almost quaint the way it seems to state the obvious.  But one has to understand that those dark days of entertainment are only a very few years behind us; and the movie should serve as a warning of what it could become again if we ever regulate these free markets again.