Bonnard Script

Marthe appears in the doorway of their parisian home, ​​wearing large sunglasses and a yellow raincoat, shrinking herself even more from her lithe frame.

MARTHE

(piercing)

Pierre? Pierre!

Pierre appears through an upstairs window, leaning his head out dangerously to look at her. He looks sickly, only in a white tank top cruelly illuminating his thin skin.

PIERRE

Yes?

She leans against the doorway, annoyed.

MARTHE

I thought you said we were going out?

PIERRE

We are! I'm just getting ready.

He closes the shutters. She shrinks.

MARTHE

(still to him)

You know, I didn't even want to go on this walk. You told me you wanted to walk with me, begged to walk with me, and you don't walk with me!

He comes up from behind her, fully dressed, glasses set precariously on his nose. He grabs her by the waist pulling her in. Surprised, she curls into herself in a fit of violent coughs.

Pierre!

He kisses her cheek and leans back, pulling her with him.

PIERRE

What is it, Marthe? Come, enjoy the day with me.

She looks out the door, looks anxious, then extracts herself from his grasp and runs back in the door.

Marthe! Don't quit on me now.

She reappears with a parasol. She smiles, pained.

MARTHE

I'm ready.

As he walks out of the doorway, going in front of his house, Marthe freezes.

Wait, I forgot to ask. Where are we going?

PIERRE

Down to the river, of course!

MARTHE

(nervous)

Well, we should have packed a basket, then! Why don't we go back and pack a basket. It won't take terribly long.

He goes back and grabs her arm, looking into her eyes.

PIERRE

(soothing)

Marthe.

MARTHE

No, no. This seems best!

She runs into the house. He looks at his watch, impatient.

PIERRE

Marthe, if you don't want to go, just say so! I'll find someone else. 

MARTHE

(offstage)

And who would that be?

PIERRE

I don't know, colleagues. Henri, Harry, Lucienne, Chaty...

A slamming noise.

MARTHE

(offstage)

Why Chaty?

PIERRE

She's good company, even better against scenery.

She appears in the doorway.

MARTHE

But what about me? 

She looks at her feet.

We can go? Right now?

He sighs affectionately and motions to her.

MARTHE

Well come along then.

She comes forward, grabbing his arm and holding her parasol in the opposite hand. They exit.

Independent - Day Three

Today, we're doing even more revisions to the script. I think we're all in a really good place with it, so hopefully it won't be much longer until we can get it onto its feet. Right now, it really has the potential to be spectacular. We aren't about to lose that.

A Rash Post on Taste

CAUTION: This post was written in a rushed 10-minute window at the closing of my free period. Therefore, there is bare-to-none editing and ideas as well thought-through and explained as I could manage through my hysteria. Read at your own discretion.



The prelude to the conversation we're going to
be having this year, emotional attachment versus quality, that we had last week has been weighing on my mind. After some deliberation, I think I know what's irking me.

Taste.

When I think back, I don't think this aspect of the arts was discussed, or even brought up. The way I see it, both someone's emotional attachment to something and the quality of the thing are not all that different, because they both involve taste.

With emotional attachment, you like, let's say, a certain musician because they got you through a rough time. Irregardless, you probably started listening to them because they were in some way affiliated with your taste in music. Or maybe they changed your taste. But emotional attachment is easy.

With quality, we talked a lot about how you can have an emotional attachment to something without it being a quality product. We talked a lot about the fact of quality, that something either has it or doesn't. I disagree. I think quality can be subjective. Not all of the time, sure. Some things are just not to your taste, and that shouldn't take away from your perception of its "genius". I can appreciate that the art exists without appreciating it aesthetically.

And I know many people feel the same as me. So. I'm writing this post to soothe, I suppose. I know that while other people probably view my affinity for One Direction as purely emotionally-related, I know it's more than that. These boys are talented.

Earlier this week, they dropped a free download for a song from their upcoming album. While I've been buzzing about it, when I express my excitement to others its often seen as superficial. What other people don't realize is that they have evolved since "What Makes You Beautiful" and the rest of their first album. Their voices have matured, and all for the better. Their songwriting has improved, and from their last album, the majority of the songs were at the very least co-written by members. I hear their music and I hear the craft, not just my little maternally-proud heart.

So to everyone, as long as you can back it up, I respect your opinions on quality. You do you.

Day One of "Independence"

Today has been a very strange day, in terms of work. I went into class with a very limited idea of what I wanted to do which spitballed into a whole lot more.

After talking for what felt like way too long (with way too many silences in between), we finally solidified our ideas between horror and dramedy; very different things. After jumping back and forth between the two, coming up with ideas for both, we all came to a bit of a tangential conclusion: we all liked Louis CK. Now, he might seem off-topic, but we brought him into the brand of our idea. He's someone we all admire, whether it be his humor, his style, his talent. We wanted to emulate him in some way, even if it was just as a jumping off point. We watched a few clips from his various specials, told secondhand stories from our favorite anecdotes of his, and I grabbed the computer.

I ended writing something that could have been way too long if I didn't stop. I suppose because I've been trying to get myself into a gear where I can write longer pieces, I didn't realize that wasn't the time nor the place. Nevertheless, while that document still has a place in my heart (and my online celtx account, which I recommend every writer get), it does not have a place in this project.

So, I regrouped my thoughts. I spoke again with Michelle and Emily (because Brian was singing somewhere with his beautiful little singing voice - I assume) and took their criticism of what they thought it should be, including but not limited to the word short.

Fast forward to this moment. In the past hour or so, I have written a one page script (with an appropriate amount started from scratch) and have sent it out to my groupmates. Now, I await their criticism and/or approval. I think it has what they were asking for, and what we agreed upon.

And hey, if it doesn't work, there's always rewrites.

Where I Want to Go

Over the summer, I wrote my first adequate film script. It's 22-pages long, and it deals with queer issues, grief, and mortality. It's the first film script that has ever left me feeling accomplished, and I'm proud of that.

So.

I want to try to write more film scripts. Tomorrow I'll get to collaborate on one with Michelle, Brian, and Emily, but I'm hungrier than that. I have two other scripts in mind that are fairly fleshed out, one on the mother/daughter relationship and the other a coming-of-age film with which I have the Fresh Girls in mind, which Anika has said she'd love to direct if I actually wrote it. I also have one on teen suicide and hero worship that I started after Robin Williams's passing.

I need to get these things done. Therefore, I'm going to get these things done.

"Independent" Work

For this project, I'll be working on a short film with Michelle, Brian, and Emily. Tomorrow, I hope to flesh out to the best of our abilities what we all want out of this film, and see if it'll be possible for us all to reach individual goals (ie. what we want to learn, feel validated in, show progress in). I would also like to start the script, and get a framework of it done so that if I feel like continuing on it out of class, I know the direction we're planning on going in. Right now, we don't have a plot, we don't have a mood, we don't have a theme. We have each other. And I trust these people in that.

The Importance of Dramedy and all things Earnest

With the 66th Primetime Emmy's having come and gone, and critics being as predispositionally critical as always, I think I've found the right time to express my thoughts on the condition of modern television. Also, gerrymandering in award shows. Also, humanity.

This year's Primetime Emmy's and channels responsible for their shows were unapologetic in their entering of programs in categories that did not fit. American Horror Story: Coven was entered in mini-series, which was arguable, Modern Family was allowed to compete after too many wins, The Big Bang Theory was allowed to compete because somehow, people still like it, and Breaking Bad was still entered because of the thought-out splitting of the final season so that it could claim its rightful place as Best Drama - twice. But for me, the comedy entries were the most outraging. Orange is the New Black - Comedy? Sure, this season was more comedic than the last, but only because of the amount of comic relief necessary from such emotionally draining storylines.

But let's get to what I'm really here to talk about - Shameless. Shameless (US). The rawest, most unapologetic, most heartfelt, (dare I say) best show on Television. Everything about and that happens in the show embodies the title.
And it was entered as a COMEDY.
This is where the Emmy's run into problems. Shameless can be described as a thoroughbred dramedy, making categorizing it difficult. This past season was indisputably the most dramatic one so far. Our leading lady hit rock-bottom (and some of her best work was this season), and our leading man became a supporting character for most of the season (in my opinion, yet he was still the only one to grab a nom besides Joan Cusack as a guest-actress). Our ensemble cast was the most shameless they've ever been, especially our supporting actors. Jeremy Allen White, who deserved a nom more than I can say, more than anyone, changed the entire mood of the show. Cameron Monaghan's character now struggles with bipolar disorder, and his boyfriend, the roughest, toughest punk on the Southside (the show is set in Southside Chicago) finally came to terms with his own sexuality - his coming out scene being another highlight of this season and further solidified Noel Fisher's now irrefutable acting skills. This is the show to be watching if you want to see a fresh, new perspective in television on breaking old stereotypes and instead replacing them with the idea that sexuality is no longer a defining characteristic of a character - sexuality is simply a part of being human.

I think that's why dramedy is so important. Every year, since the birth of television, we have claimed to be in "The Golden Age" of it. The thing is, it's a growing process. The Twilight Zone set the precedent of fantastic television. NBC's Thursday night lineup in 2012 was a nugget of gold. Youtube is setting itself up as a Golden Age of Digital Entertainment as a whole. What dramedy is giving us on television is the most human, least cheesy or overdone presentation we've ever seen. We need these programs made because they teach us more than how to repeat a lazy laugh-track or how to watch a dramatic portrayal which without doubt is talented, but for me, it needs more. Dramedies give us humor along with the hard stuff, which is genuinely the way things roll in real life. I'm more than proud of my favorite show, because it is a real representation, trying to imitate life to the best of its abilities. I'm not saying it's perfect, far from it, but it's honest. And that's all I ask for, all I need.

The Accidental Masterpiece

"To live intensely is one of the basic human desires and an artistic necessity." (Kimmelman 2-3)

I think what's so energizing and refreshing about the Introduction to The Accidental Masterpiece: the Art of Life and Vice Versa by Michael Kimmelman is his praise of passion. Every so often in STAC, I think we all get into these ruts of having to trudge through and at times forget why we love what we do, which can become viral- even to others. I think what's most integral to our program, dare I say even more than the structure and discipline,  is that we learn to appreciate each other's passions.

Now, regarding the reading, I think the most powerful and hard-hitting anecdote was the one about Edgar Degas. While I found Bonnard's muse interesting and Hicks's collection magnificent, Degas's physical admiration and dedication to his hero's work was more than heart-warming or heart-breaking. It was out of this realm, it brought things out of me that only stories of life-long worship can. This man needed to feel the presence of his idols, and in a tragic way, I'd hope to be able show that brand of devout affection someday as well. 

For me, Kimmelman's descriptions of amateurs and professionals put into words how I've been trying to live my life for the past few months. I no longer ironically enjoy things, I enjoy them genuinely and I love genuinely and I hope to influence others in that way. I laugh full-bellied. I write what I want to read. I've learned to "dance like no one's watching", which believe me, the people who are watching wish they weren't. I've try my best to stop pretending. The point is, to me, the love of the thing is more important than the art of it. To me, we all need a bit more love.