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	<title>sovknight.com &#187; movies</title>
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		<title>A Rant About Movies</title>
		<link>http://sovknight.com/a-rant-about-movies</link>
		<comments>http://sovknight.com/a-rant-about-movies#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 17 Jul 2009 05:38:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sovknight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[books]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dune]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[film]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Harry Potter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[movies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[opinions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Transformers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sovknight.com/?p=429</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Lately I&#8217;ve been feeling compelled to defend myself quite often for my opinions.  You see, I&#8217;m of a rare mind when it comes to movies, and especially movies that are based on books.  It has come to my attention that &#8230; <a href="http://sovknight.com/a-rant-about-movies">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Lately I&#8217;ve been feeling compelled to defend myself quite often for my opinions.  You see, I&#8217;m of a rare mind when it comes to movies, and especially movies that are based on books.  It has come to my attention that the way I view movies and the way virtually everyone else views them is very different.</p>
<p>I am, and always will be, a movie snob.  I detest popcorn movies, although there are a few exceptions.  I view film as an art form, and I think movies are here not only to entertain, but to put forth a sense of feeling in which no other medium is capable of doing.  What I mean by that is, I think movies are important to telling a story, and that movies should be provocative in nature.  I think they should be wondrous adventures.</p>
<p>My brain does not have an &#8220;off&#8221; switch.  You always hear people say, &#8220;I like to go to the movies just so I can turn of my brain and enjoy the mindless fun for two hours, without a care for the outside world.&#8221;  Know what?  That&#8217;s fine.  If that&#8217;s what you get out of the experience, then my best to you.  But I&#8217;m not like that.  My brain doesn&#8217;t work that way.  I can&#8217;t just sit in some mindless crapfest like <em>Transformers 2</em>, staring up at the screen with glazed-over eyes and a string of drool coming from the corner of my mouth.  My mind starts to pick up on all the absurdities and problems.  I can&#8217;t help but notice all the little issues that forcefully yank me straight out of the experience that movie going <em>should</em> be.  I should be swept away, captivated by the imagery and compelled by the story.  I should be entranced with the effects and blown away by the scope.  Instead, when I watch this kind of stuff, I feel immediately cheated and even offended sometimes at the level of stupidity.</p>
<p>You may ask, &#8220;why do you go to these movies then, if you know you&#8217;re going to hate them?&#8221;  Well, I don&#8217;t always hate them.  Sometimes I enjoy them quite a bit, but much of the time there&#8217;s a good reason, like a technical accomplishment, or incredible cinematography, or an amazing performance that can keep me invested in the film.  Sometimes I read a review and think I should give it a chance, or other times I&#8217;m with friends or on a date or something.  The biggest reason though, is that I love movies.  I love film, and I love the craft.  I love all mediums of storytelling, but that&#8217;s not going to stop me from having an opinion, nor will it stop me from writing a scathing review.  I see the good ones and the bad ones.  But like anything else, there&#8217;s always dirt to sift through to find the true gold.</p>
<p>No, I don&#8217;t think I&#8217;m &#8220;better than you.&#8221;  I don&#8217;t think my opinions about a movie are any more important that yours or anyone else&#8217;s.  They are <em>MY</em> opinions, and mine alone.  I accept that many &#8212; and actually most&#8211; people enjoy popcorn movies.  Most people don&#8217;t want to think when they see a film, they just want to sit and be entertained.  That&#8217;s fine, and I think it&#8217;s wonderful.  I just have a different idea of what entertains me, that&#8217;s all.</p>
<p>I especially want to touch upon a certain topic along this line though, and I want to explain why I feel the way I do about a certain type of movie.  Namely, movies that are based on books.</p>
<p>You see, books are the ultimate escape, and the ultimate method of storytelling.  No movie can<em> ever</em> compare to a good book, and no movie based on a book can ever compare to the complexity and the texture of that book.  It&#8217;s simply impossible.  There&#8217;s no way you can visually interpret a <em>Lord of the Rings</em> or a <em>Dune</em> or a <em>Harry Potter</em> literally, on a screen, with actors and sets and props.  It can&#8217;t happen, because any time you try and make a move from a book, you dilute it.  You water it down.  You make it a shade of what it is, because everyone that reads a book pictures it with their own minds, using their own experiences, and pictures it perfectly for them.  Books are the ultimate personal journeys, because all the visuals are tailor-made just for you and you alone.  A movie can&#8217;t do that, because a movie forces you to see it the way they want to show it to you.</p>
<p>My problem, and really kind of the point of this whole rant, is this:  If you are going to make a film based on a book, with an established story, you <em>need</em> to be faithful to that story.  You shouldn&#8217;t go changing it up on a whim, because you have just destroyed that story.  You haven&#8217;t done it justice.  You don&#8217;t have the right to change that story, because it&#8217;s not yours to change.  I realize that the medium of film is sufficiently different, and it presents difficulties in translation from one medium to the other.  I know that things have to be cut, and sub-plots and side-stories have to be left out.  That&#8217;s perfectly fine, because you can get the subtleties across with film in a much more definitive way.  But there&#8217;s no reason whatsoever to change elements of the story, or add elements that were never in the story to begin with.  This is not honoring the story at all.</p>
<p>I recently caught flack on Facebook because I said I was upset by all the unnecessary changes made to the latest <em>Harry Potter</em> movie.  It annoys me, but I won&#8217;t apologize for it.  Yes, there were a great many elements and characters and threads that were left out entirely, but that doesn&#8217;t really bother me at all.  What bothers me is that so many things were changed for no benefit whatsoever.  The story in the book is perfectly fine.  That is the story, and if you&#8217;re going to make a visual representation of that story using the film medium, then you need to do it<em> faithfully and respectfully</em>, with regard to the <em>established story</em>.  Why is that so hard, I ask?  There is an entire scene about halfway through the movie which isn&#8217;t in the book at all.  It&#8217;s not part of the book, or part of the story, or eluded to in writing in any way.  In fact, by putting this scene in the movie,  scenes later on and scenes in subsequent movies will no longer make sense in the context of the greater story.  Why, I ask, was this done?  It doesn&#8217;t work at all.</p>
<p>I know I&#8217;m in the minority.  Most people don&#8217;t think about things like this, but I love film and I love books.  I just wish the two were compatible with each other.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>A Different Kind of Writing</title>
		<link>http://sovknight.com/a-different-kind-of-writing</link>
		<comments>http://sovknight.com/a-different-kind-of-writing#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 26 Oct 2008 07:37:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sovknight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[movies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[np2k]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[screenplays]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[short films]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[visualization]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sovknight.com/?p=266</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Back in 2004 and 2005 I participated in a contest with one of the film making forums I&#8217;m heavily involved with.  The idea was to form groups of three forum members scattered throughout the world.  These groups were chosen randomly, &#8230; <a href="http://sovknight.com/a-different-kind-of-writing">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p align="left">Back in 2004 and 2005 I participated in a contest with one of the film making forums I&#8217;m heavily involved with.  The idea was to form groups of three forum members scattered throughout the world.  These groups were chosen randomly, and then each member had an assigned task.  One would write a short screenplay, one would direct and film it, and the third would edit.  All of the entries were then judged by the forum members and critiqued for the benefit of experience.</p>
<p align="left">This contest was held twice, and I entered both times as a screenwriter.  Now, I&#8217;ve written numerous short stories and poems in my life, but I&#8217;d never before attempted a screenplay.  I had to do a ton of research on the format and style of writing that was necessary, and I learned a great deal about it.  In the process, I found that I love writing screenplays, because the format lends itself to my visual style of writing.  The downside for me is, at least in the terms of these contests, is that the films were limited to ten minutes, so the screenplays had to be short.  That was my challenge; getting all my thoughts whittled down into a manageable length.  I found it exhilarating.</p>
<p align="left">After talking with my good friend <a href="http://www.bunsnip.com/" target="_blank">Sra</a> and her boyfriend <a href="http://www.braincough.com/">Ian</a> the other night, I was reminded of these little bits of writing, so I thought I&#8217;d share one of them with my readers here at sovknight.com.  What follows is the <em>second</em> screenplay I wrote.  I had high hopes for this one, because I thought the visuals would have been very compelling.  The director assigned to my group lived in New York City, and he told me he wanted to shoot something that showcased his city.  After a lot of thought, and I believe about seven drafts, this is what I came up with.  Unfortunately, it was never shot, so it remains a screenplay only to this day.</p>
<p align="left"><strong>A note, if you&#8217;ve never read screenplay format before.  Screenplays are very skeletal, designed to give a very basic sense of the atmosphere along with the dialog.  There are no big descriptions, no engaging prose, and no story element (per se).  I took a couple of liberties with this one, including a couple of camera directions and such.  For instance, I wrote in the fades, flashbacks, and gave indication to voice-overs (VO). These things are typically a no no in a screenplay, but I made an exception for clarity.</strong></p>
<p align="left"><strong>The real key to reading it is to visualize it, like watching it as a movie.  Pay attention to things like voice overs (VO) and screen directions, like fade-ins and outs.  It will make it easier to understand.</strong></p>
<p align="left">After you read it, I&#8217;ll explain the story and give my meanings.</p>
<p align="center">
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. STATEN ISLAND FERRY &#8211; DAY</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA stands on the observation deck of the ferry, lost in her thoughts. She looks up briefly as she passes the Statue of Liberty, and then to her right toward the island of Manhattan, noting the somehow unfamiliar skyline. She slips back into her reverie.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE TO BLACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">You know love is forever right? They say that you know. It&#8217;s true. When we moved here a few years ago, I was surrounded by it. My closest friend and my new friends, even the city itself. God I love it here.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN: </span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. BATTERY PARK &#8211; DAY</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda walks though the park along the edge of the water. Behind her, the city is alive. Another day in New York.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">We came here when JOHN got a new job. A good one, with real money. I was going to college and the opportunity was perfect. We&#8217;d been best friends since grade school, and inseparable ever since. Although we tried the couple thing once in High School, it didn&#8217;t turn out that way. Our friendship just seemed somehow deeper than that.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. BATTERY PARK &#8211; DAY &#8211; FLASHBACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda stands in Battery Park looking out over the water toward Ellis Island. Presently her cell phone rings.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Hello? Hey. What&#8217;s the news? Did you&#8230; you did? And&#8230; so, what did she say?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John sneaks up behind Amanda still holing his phone. She&#8217;s still unaware of his presence.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Hello? John?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(laughing)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">She said yes.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda turns startled, smiles, then closes her phone. John puts his own phone away, then walks to Amanda, who immediately embraces him.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(laughing)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">I&#8217;m so happy for you! What is this?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John hands Amanda a rose. She smells it, then looks back to him.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Yeah, well&#8230; there was a guy selling them. Look, I know it&#8217;s cheesy, but I want you to have it. Just remember that we&#8217;re always the best of friends, no matter what happens. Okay?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Of course. Always. Forever and ever.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">The two of them start back toward the city.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Why is it you always meet me here?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">I don&#8217;t know&#8230; I just like it here. I like the water and the view. It&#8217;s not as crowded here as other parts of the city. It&#8217;s more peaceful.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Are you sure it&#8217;s not that it&#8217;s close to my office?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(laughing)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Yeah. You caught me. Silly.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda looks up at John and smiles. The two of them stand together for a while, looking out onto the water.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE OUT:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN: </span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. GREENWICH STREET &#8211; DAY</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda walks down the street, passing other people who are seemingly oblivious to her presence.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">I miss him. I know he&#8217;s still with me in a way, but it&#8217;s not the same. It can never be the same. Time does funny things. It can lessen the pain, but never take it completely away. I miss John. I miss him so much.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">INT. JOHN AND AMANDA&#8217;S APARTMENT &#8211; DAY &#8211; FLASHBACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda opens the door to the apartment and walks in carrying her school books. John and his fiancee Cherie are on the couch together. Cherie is thumbing through some wedding magazines, and John is pretending to be interested.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Hey Guys. What&#8217;s up?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">CHERIE</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Ohh Amanda! Tell me what you think of this.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda moves to the couch with Cherie, and John is apparently relieved as he turns on the television.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">I like that one. I like the cut of it. What did you think John?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(mumbles)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">You know, it&#8217;s an all New York Series this year. We should try&#8230;</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John is interrupted when the phone rings.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">CHERIE</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">If that&#8217;s my mom, tell her that we already found a place. We&#8217;re still moving on the eighth.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda moves across the room and picks up the phone. After a minute, she gets pale and looks up with a frown.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">What&#8217;s wrong? Who is it?</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John&#8230; it&#8217;s the hospital.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE OUT:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. MADISON SQUARE &#8211; LATE AFTERNOON</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda stands at Penn Station, looking up towards the Gardens. People are all around, yet no one pays her any attention. She smiles at a young man passing by, but he doesn&#8217;t notice.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">It came on so fast. I couldn&#8217;t believe it happened so fast, out of nowhere. I didn&#8217;t know what to think. I can&#8217;t understand why life works the way it does. Sometimes it&#8217;s cruel, sometimes it&#8217;s wonderful. This whole thing hit John so hard, so sudden&#8230; I felt for him. I really did.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">INT. APARTMENT &#8211; NIGHT &#8211; FLASHBACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda lies in her bed at home, but she&#8217;s not sleeping. She&#8217;s been crying, and her eyes are still wet. Feeling uneasy, she gets up and goes into the kitchen. John is at the table which is covered in pamphlets and medical forms for cancer treatment. He wakes from a daze as Amanda enters.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">You should be sleeping.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Can&#8217;t.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">I&#8217;ve been going through this for hours. We have to decide&#8230; but there&#8217;s time. We&#8230;</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda moves over to John and hugs him from behind. She closes her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">We&#8217;ll get through this. I&#8217;ll find a way to beat this. I know that sounds corny, but it&#8217;s true.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">We&#8217;ll beat it. I know. It&#8217;s just not fair. Not fair.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John stares down at the various forms and paraphernalia.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">JOHN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">No. Not fair at all.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE OUT:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN: </span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. BUSY STREET IN NEW YORK &#8211; AFTERNOON</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">A large group of people wait for the light to change at the intersection. When it does, the mass starts across the street. Eventually, Amanda is resolved walking peacefully among the crowd, but no one pays her any attention. No one even notices her.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">She walks slowly, absorbed in the sights and the sounds of the city. There&#8217;s no purpose; she just seems to wander. She passes people left and right, but no one even glances in her direction. As she makes her way, we get a little ahead of her, distracted by the view and the sights. As we turn back to find her, she&#8217;s gone.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">INT. DOCTOR&#8217;S OFFICE &#8211; DAY &#8211; FLASHBACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John sits in the waiting room of the doctor&#8217;s office. He stares straight ahead without expression, solemn. He&#8217;s got a magazine, but he&#8217;s not reading it. He just sits.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">The door to the back opens and a nurse steps out.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">NURSE</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John? Mr. Anthor? Come on back. The doctor wants to talk to you.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John looks up at her sadly, then gathers up the jackets he&#8217;s been holding, and steps back through the door.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE OUT:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN:</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. TIMES SQUARE &#8211; EVENING</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda has stopped walking for now. She soaks up the atmosphere: Manhattan in the late fall. It&#8217;s cold and grey, but Amanda is smiling with an upturned face and closed eyes. It&#8217;s almost like she&#8217;s the center of the city, all alone amongst the crowd. The lights and signs, the people&#8230; the feeling of New York is here. </span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. ROCKEFELLER CENTER &#8211; EVENING</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda stops to watch several couples skate on the frozen ice. She suppresses a brief pang of pain, then turns and continues on.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John and Cherie were great as a couple. I sorta envied what they had. John had been my best friend as long as I could remember, but you have to understand&#8230; I wasn&#8217;t jealous at all. Just the opposite. Cherie and I got along really well, and she understood how John and I felt about each other. She was very supportive, especially through the illness. She and John were close, and she was there for him in the end. It was hard for him, and she was there.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. CENTRAL PARK &#8211; EVENING</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda sits on a bench in the park. She seems content, but sad. The world of New York still passes by behind her, and she wraps her arms around herself and shivers in the cold.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">AMANDA</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">(VO)</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">It&#8217;s been a few years now, but it seems like yesterday. It still burns in my mind. Remember how I said time does funny things? It&#8217;s so true. Sometimes it&#8217;s like no time has passed at all.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Amanda stands and stretches her arms out with her eyes closed and her head back. She feels at one with the city. </span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE TO BLACK</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">FADE IN</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">EXT. BATTERY PARK &#8211; MORNING</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">John and his wife Cherie stand in Battery Park near the water. It&#8217;s a cold, windy day but John seems not to notice. He&#8217;s lost in his thoughts.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">Carefully, he places one rose on the ground and holds the other to his chest. He closes his eyes and offers a silent prayer, then both slowly walk away, looking back only once.</span></span></p>
<p align="center"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">We see the rose on the ground by itself, blowing gently in the wind. A hand reaches out and picks it up, hesitating at first. Slowly, Amanda is revealed holding the flower to her face, smelling the last traces of fragrance. She smiles.</span></span></p>
<p align="left">The story is very basic.  Girl (Amanda) walks through New York City, stopping at various places along the way, triggering memories of the past (in the form of flashbacks.)  These memories involve her best friend (John) and his wife to be (Cherie.)  The viewer is lead to believe throughout the film that John died of cancer, and her pilgrimage through the city is her way of dealing with the past and the memory of her friend.  Only at the end, it&#8217;s revealed that it was truly <em>Amanda that died</em> of cancer, and John and Cherie honor her memory by placing a rose in her favorite spot in Battery Park.  You see, <strong>Amanda is a ghost</strong>, and because of her connection to John and the city, she&#8217;s doomed to haunt New York, always starting at the ferry and making that same walk through the city for all eternity.  It&#8217;s not a happy story, but a tragedy.</p>
<p align="left">I&#8217;m not sure that comes across in the screenplay, but it would have on screen.  The director and I had a very open dialog about the look of the film, and there are lots of little hints along the way.  The scene crossing the street, the fact that people always ignore her or don&#8217;t see her, and subtleties like that.  On screen, it would have worked much better than it does in writing, and that&#8217;s the big frustration with the screenplay format.  It&#8217;s meant to be viewed, and not read.</p>
<p align="left">Still, it was an awesome experience.  The first story I wrote was actually filmed, and is available for download.  If anyone is interested in reading or viewing it, let me know.  I hope you like this story though.  I still have hopes that someday it could be made.  Please let me know what you think.</p>
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<p align="center">
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		<title>Of Little Kids, Movies, and Perceived Double Standards</title>
		<link>http://sovknight.com/of-little-kids-movies-and-percieved-double-standards</link>
		<comments>http://sovknight.com/of-little-kids-movies-and-percieved-double-standards#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 09 May 2008 19:04:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sovknight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Iron Man]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[little kids]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[movies]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I was bored yesterday, so I went to see a movie.&#160; I&#8217;ve already seen Iron Man once with some friends last weekend, but it&#8217;s a decent flick and really the only thing out right now that interests me, so I &#8230; <a href="http://sovknight.com/of-little-kids-movies-and-percieved-double-standards">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I was bored yesterday, so I went to see a movie.&#160; I&#8217;ve already seen <em>Iron Man</em> once with some friends last weekend, but it&#8217;s a decent flick and really the only thing out right now that interests me, so I went to see it again.&#160; Still a decent flick, although I caught some annoying mistakes the second time around.<img style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="297" alt="ironman" src="http://sovknight.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/05/ironman.jpg" width="204" align="right" border="0" /> </p>
<p>Anyway, <em>Iron Man</em> is not what I want to talk about.&#160; This post is about the woman and her child in the row in front of me.</p>
<p>They were there when I walked in.&#160; A rather large women and a kid, who I guessed to be roughly four or five years old, right in front and slightly to the right of where I sat.&#160; In my opinion, the kid maybe should have been in school, but maybe not.&#160; It&#8217;s hard to tell these days and in Utah, there are school-aged kids running around all day outside of school anyway.&#160; I still don&#8217;t understand how, but that&#8217;s a topic for another post.&#160; Anyway, the kid seemed excited and had a little <em>Iron Man</em> action figure with him, clutched tightly with anticipation of the movie.&#160; He bounced up and down and all around and just generally annoyed me completely.&#160; I knew right away that this would be a major distraction.</p>
<p>As soon as the movie started the kid lost interest.&#160; He started paying with his doll and getting up and sitting down and looked longingly toward the isle, where I&#8217;m sure he wanted to run around.&#160; He kept turning around and looking at me, staring the way little kids do.&#160; I tried to focus on the movie, but the kid had already won.&#160; I couldn&#8217;t help but be distracted.</p>
<p>About ten minutes in the kid announced he had to go to the bathroom, so Fat Mom begrudgingly climbed out from under the popcorn and drinks and took his little hand.&#160; As she led him away relief washed over me.&#160; Now I can immerse myself in the movie, and maybe when they come back, I won&#8217;t notice them as much.&#160; Unfortunately they did come back, and the whole thing started again.</p>
<p>If you haven&#8217;t seen it yet, there&#8217;s a scene in the movie where Robert Downey hooks up with a reporter.&#160; He takes her home and they have a quick roll in the hay.&#160; Nothing is shown, but you get the idea anyway.&#160; The quick shot has the reporter on top, wrestling a bit and some kissing, then they both fall off the bed and onto the floor and out of the frame.&#160; End of scene.</p>
<p>Well, Fat Mom immediately got Little Kid&#8217;s attention, swung up a beefy arm and covered his eyes for the whole scene.&#160; No sooner than she let go, the next scene comes up showing the morning after, where reporter chick is laying in bed with her back exposed and her hair disheveled, than the giant arm comes right back up in a blurred movement to cover Little Kid&#8217;s eyes again.&#160; Never mind that the kid wasn&#8217;t old enough to even grasp one iota of what that scene was about.&#160; He wasn&#8217;t going to see it.</p>
<p>Contrast that with scenes later on in the movie, scenes that show Iron Man being shot with machine guns and tanks and rifles.&#160; Scenes that show terrorists being blown, in a PG-13 kinda way, to bits with explosives and bombs.&#160; Scenes that show Iron Man being chased and shot by fighter jets, scenes that show half of Head Terrorist Guy&#8217;s face missing, scenes that show terrorists holding guns at women and little babies, scenes that show huge scary robot chasing Gwyneth Paltrow (running for her life in 6-inch heels) and knocking aside federal agents like rag dolls, scenes that show Iron Man fighting Iron Monger in public streets, destroying cars and trucks and busses&#8230; no, never mind any of that.&#160; Little Kid was free to watch the carnage and the violence with no interruption from Fat Mom whatsoever.&#160; In fact, I believe these scenes were really the only ones he actually watched with any sort of attention.</p>
<p>After an action scene, Little Kid would become restless again.&#160; His Iron Man figure would fly through the air in his little fist, <em>pow pow powing</em> and shooting Imaginary Rays and blowing up the seat in front of him.&#160; No, Little Kid might never have grasped the sexual innuendo of the love scene, but he definitely understood the violence.&#160; Fat Mom seemed oblivious.</p>
<p>When the film was over, they left, leaving all of their trash for the employees to clean up.&#160; Little Kid saw maybe 18 minutes of the movie in all.&#160; I just shook my head in wonder.</p>
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		<title>Little Things</title>
		<link>http://sovknight.com/little-things</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Mar 2008 20:34:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sovknight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Thoughts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[grumpy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[movies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[speed bumps]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[U-scan]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Wal*Mart]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Just a few observations: If you&#8217;re at the supermarket buying groceries, and you don&#8217;t understand simple technology, or &#8220;them newfangled computer whatsitz checker things&#8221; as you may call them, do not use the U-scan line. I don&#8217;t care if you &#8230; <a href="http://sovknight.com/little-things">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Just a few observations:</p>
<ul>
<li>If you&#8217;re at the supermarket buying groceries, and you don&#8217;t understand simple technology, or &#8220;them newfangled computer whatsitz checker things&#8221; as you may call them, do not use the U-scan line. I don&#8217;t care if you only have one or two items, you are not intellectually qualified to use MY technology. Go to another line. This also applies to you if you are older than, say&#8230; 55 or so. The world has moved on past you. Go home and enjoy a refreshing episode of Matlock. Do not anger me by attempting to use technology beyond your comprehension. <img style="border-top-width: 0pt; border-left-width: 0pt; border-bottom-width: 0pt; margin: 10px 0px 0px 25px; border-right-width: 0pt" height="145" alt="angryman" src="http://sovknight.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/03/angryman.jpg" width="199" align="right" border="0"></li>
</ul>
<p>Also, if you are paying by check, buying cigarettes, or using coupons, do <em>not</em> use the U-scan line. If you think it&#8217;s cute that your four-year-old is &#8220;all grown up&#8221; enough to pay for his own purchase by slipping 1,138 pennies, dimes, and nickels into the U-scan machine to buy a toy, one at a time over the course of 20 minutes, I am going to bludgeon you to death a rolled-up <em>People</em> magazine and kick your bloody carcass on the way out.</p>
<p>I find it amusing that several of the Wal*Marts in my area have actually removed the U-scan lines from their stores. I also note that new Wal*Marts do not even install them. You can make your own white trash or low IQ joke here.</p>
<ul>
<li>Do not stop before you drive over a speed bump. I&#8217;m talking about the run-of-the-mill, every day speed bumps you find in parking lots and apartment complexes and such. These will not damage your car, or cause you to spill your cappuccino, or even be barely noticeable when you drive over them. Simply go the posted speed limit for the area you&#8217;re in, and the speed bumps will not be a factor. You don&#8217;t even need to slow down. If, one day, you stop completely or slow to a crawl to navigate the difficult obstacle that a three-inch raised piece of street presents, and you suddenly find a silver Ford Taurus smashed through your rear window and sitting in the back seat of your car with an angry, red-haired man who just might be the devil himself glaring at you, don&#8217;t say I didn&#8217;t warn you. </li>
</ul>
<p>In fact, if you see said Ford Taurus behind you at any point, even if you&#8217;re driving on the freeway or maybe taking the back roads to Grandma&#8217;s house on a Sunday, it may be best to just pull over and let it pass.</p>
<ul>
<li>If you work in a store of some kind, maybe a Best Buy or a Lowe&#8217;s, and you see me, it&#8217;s absolutely fine if you walk up and ask if I need any help. I don&#8217;t mind. I know what&#8217;s it&#8217;s like, and I understand you&#8217;re doing your job. In fact, I applaud your diligence. Good work&#8211; your manager should be proud. </li>
</ul>
<p>But&#8230; if I say I&#8217;m &#8220;just looking&#8221;, that means I&#8217;m JUST LOOKING. If you want to take it further, it may also mean PISS OFF. When I want or need your help, I&#8217;ll ask for it. I don&#8217;t need you to hover over me. Also, I&#8217;m only going to tell you once. If you insist on pestering me, I will simply leave. Everyone has competitors, and I&#8217;m not brand-loyal.</p>
<ul>
<li>If I&#8217;m watching a movie, in a theater, where I&#8217;ve paid a ridiculous price for my ticket, and paid even more for a jumbo pop corn and gallon-sized drink, I expect courtesy from the other patrons. It&#8217;s time to turn off your cell phones. And do not, I repeat, DO NOT open them during the movie causing your bright-ass picture of your ugly stupid three-year-old niece on the inside to suddenly illuminate half the theater. This is called a distraction, and it takes away my enjoyment of the film. </li>
</ul>
<p>If you must insist on checking your text messages every three minutes during the film, then I must insist on cramming that phone into your anal cavity. Far enough up that you can check your messages by looking into a mirror and opening your mouth. Try me, I dare you.</p>
<ul>
<li>If I&#8217;m in a restaurant enjoying a nice meal with my friends or in a shop, a movie, or just in public in general, and you&#8217;re there and have brought your young children along&#8230; control them. What I mean by controlling them is being a responsible parent. I understand young children don&#8217;t have long attention spans, that they get bored or cranky or suddenly take interest in shiny things. That&#8217;s the beauty of being a kid. You have no responsibilities. </li>
</ul>
<p>That&#8217;s why it&#8217;s your job as a parent to teach them when they become out of line. It is not acceptable for a child to scream at the top of their lungs for no reason at all. It is not acceptable for them to walk along the isle of a store and knock off all the items on display and then giggle at it. It is not acceptable for them to lean over from behind me during the movie and touch me in any way. It&#8217;s not cute, funny, or acceptable. These children will grow up to become speed bump-stopping, cell phone-checking, coupon-using, U-scan-hogging idiots like you. Then people like me will go postal.</p>
<p>That&#8217;s enough for now. I think I&#8217;m grumpy today.</p>
<p class="wlWriterSmartContent" style="padding-right: 0pt; display: inline; padding-left: 0pt; padding-bottom: 0pt; margin: 0pt; padding-top: 0pt">Technorati Tags: <a href="http://technorati.com/tags/U-scan" rel="tag">U-scan</a>,<a href="http://technorati.com/tags/grumpy" rel="tag">grumpy</a>,<a href="http://technorati.com/tags/Wal*Mart" rel="tag">Wal*Mart</a>,<a href="http://technorati.com/tags/speed%20bumps" rel="tag">speed bumps</a>,<a href="http://technorati.com/tags/movies" rel="tag">movies</a></p>
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