Screenplay Review: The Counselor

“I have no wish to paint the world in colors more somber than those it wears but as the world gives way to darkness it becomes more and more difficult to dismiss the understanding that the world is in fact oneself. It is a thing which you have created, no more, no less. And when you cease to be so will the world.”

When making the press rounds for their Oscar winning turn in No Country for Old Men, the Coen brothers repeated a joke explaining the only necessary work they did in order to prepare Cormac McCarthy’s novel for the big screen was to “add quotation marks.”  Indeed, even given the high level of skill the two brothers possess, much of the strength of the film can be attributed to the source material and its gripping prose. For unexplained reasons the infamously tepid writer has recently decided to participate in the act of writing screenplays and allow for his source material to be interpreted by others. However, it seems almost a necessity that McCarthy would participate in the film business in his own fashion with little regard for the already established rules. With The Counselor, McCarthy has fabricated not a screenplay, but a novella of sorts that emulates the best of his novels. Gone are the standards of formatting for characters or description of scenes and their headings and in their place long descriptions of organic western scenery and uncomfortably dark character motivations amidst beautifully omniscient and often confusing dialog from mysterious characters.

  

           McCarthy develops a simple central dilemma as he places the titular character of the counselor in a position where he must continue down a corrupt path and risk danger or seek a more comfortable life in order to preserve a newfound love. As simple and affectionate the power of love is on the counselor, the powers of evil in this world that McCarthy is so excellent at portraying is ever present and uncomfortably realistic. The counselor finds himself among friends and enemies who become interchangeable at the drop of a hat as he struggles to find out just how much power his position really holds in the world. At the same time that the counselor is the central figure of the story, his own problems are trivialized by the emptiness of the world. The fate of each character in the story is potentially spelled out to them and the audience and yet there seems to be a developed trajectory that could never be broken regardless, making us question whether any effort should have been put in the first place. With The Counselor¸ McCarthy rings a chord against the baseness of humanity with striking truth and he spares little expense at revealing this with highly sexual and violent content both in the form of words and actions. Indeed it is almost a shame that most people will never experience the beautifully flowing prose through a written format and rather only hear the dialog spoken on screen. 

Screenplay Review: Transcendence

"Imagine. All the intelligence of everyone ever born in one entity."

          The science fiction genre is one that people always seem to be hungry for and at the same time hold to a high standard and in return a high level of scrutiny. This is welcomed however as too many films and screenplays are given freedom from criticism because they attempt to be ambitious or have grandiose elements to their themes. Ambition alone is never enough to warrant muddled execution around it which so often plagues highly anticipated films. Jack Paglen's attempt at combining ambition with substance in his script Transcendence is relatively successful. Transcendence’s main story features a man and wife named Will and Evelyn Caster who happen to be scientists working on pushing the boundaries of artificial intelligence. They are joined by their colleague and friend Max Waters who has differing opinions than those of Will and his wife. Although he has a differing opinion as to the consequences of sentiment computers, Max continues to encourage his colleagues progression. Not everyone is so happy to do so as a group of militant fighters known as the RIFT begin to murder everyone involved with artificial intelligence in order to stop the creation of a sentient being. During a lecture on his work, Will is critically injured in an attack by RIFT and in pure desperation Evelyn attempts to upload his genetic material into a computer despite being warned of the destruction it could cause if the computer were to become aware of its' own existence.

          The strength of the script is evident in two elements, the first of which is the explanation of what transcendence is and the consequences of it. Paglan attempts to show us inside the mind of a machine that has more power and intelligence than anyone in the history of mankind through visual cues that both educate and confuse with their complexity. This also eliminates the need for an entire film drowned in expository dialog à la Christopher Nolan where characters are constantly explaining plot elements to each other. The second strength is the immediate consequences transcendence has on the relationship between Evelyn and her husband Will. Evelyn's obsession with maintaining a relationship with her husband despite the warnings around her are portrayed with tenderness that evoke a strong sense of empathy. However, this is nicely countered with the cold reality of how myopic her refusal to let go of Will makes her and everything she ignores in the process of his resurrection. Yes, this is another science fiction story portraying the negatives of artificial intelligence and the horrible consequences once that A.I. begins to turn on their creators, but Paglan’s script offers more in terms of humanizing the transition than other forays into the same storyline. 

Screenplay Review: The Wolf of Wall Street

“There is no nobility in poverty. I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor and I choose rich every time.”

         Although some might argue the critical and box office success of his recent films have allowed Martin Scorsese to become more comfortable and thus lose some of the edge that made him so great, he has still maintained the trademark kinetic energy that has become synonymous with his filmmaking. This time around he returns to familiar material with Terrence Winter’s adaptation of The Wolf of Wall Street. The script features the main character of Jordan Belfort who develops an insatiable hunger for the good life and all that comes with it regardless of how he achieves it or who he screws over in the process. His rise from rags to riches is one of pure desperation and of calculated hard work and in keeping with Scorsese’s themes as an auteur there are plenty of consequences that come with success including crushing guilt.

       Similar to Goodfellas, the script features a constant voice over by the main character that guides you through the important parts of his life and his own opinions on them. However, unlike Goodfellas which allows its characters to breathe and establish themselves within certain periods of their lives, Wolf of Wall Street moves from one scene of lavishness to the next with quick fire succession. In fact, the entire script is less of a story and more of one giant montage. While this could be done intentionally to highlight how quick the events came and went for the main character, it leaves room to be desired from a narrative standpoint as nothing is completely fleshed out. Old fans will be happy to know the script does not shy away from showing any of the decadence that Belfort came to enjoy whether it is drugs or women. Couple this with the lack of a more traditional narrative and you might find people having the same problems as they did with earlier Scorsese films (unlikable characters doing unlikable things). I imagine the story will improve as a film as it feels tailor made for the big screen.

Screenplay Review: American Hustle

“All my life I been lookin' over my shoulder worried about the Feds, and for what? If I knew how fuckin’ stupid you guys really were I woulda stole the world.”

          David O. Russell's recent success at the Oscars as made him the director de jour around Hollywood, but to his credit he has shown the desire to stick with what he feels works both in regards to the players in his cast and the subject matter of his films. American Hustle (formerly known as the brilliantly titled American Bullshit) written by Eric Warren Singer continues the recent string of Russell films featuring characters on the fringes of society who are not exactly viewed at as favorable by the rest of normal America. This time around the story focuses on Mel Weinberg, a two bit con artist who has achieved modest success through skill and authenticity. Mel is good at what he does and is able to balance his sham of a career with his family life and even an extramarital affair. However when the FBI come calling Weinberg is put in one of two scenarios: either help the FBI or face the consequences of his previous actions. He ends up participating in something that continues to escalate and grow until it reaches absurd levels of corruption.

                             

          The major point to mention with American Hustle is that it doesn't view its main character with any form of judgment whether it be negative or positive. Mel’s actions are his own and so are the consequences. The script features face paced, smart talk and vulgar language that seems to be a mix of early Scorsese with Tarantino. Indeed the whole thing gives off a Goodfellas vibe both in the beginning and in the end (especially the last shot), but the real meat of the script is allowed to develop on its own without the weight of another film to be inspired by. The script develops a path with just the right highs and lows for an overall solid story, but one that could definitely benefit from a director who knows what he’s doing. 

Screenplay Review: Inside Llewyn Davis

"You should just walk around always, inside a great big condom. Because you are shit."

         When a director becomes known for a particular style or brand of filmmaking they often run into a big problem: to continue to attempt and deliver said style merely because it is expected and celebrated or whether to allow the material to develop organically. It can be argued that two of the biggest examples out there, Terrence Malick and Quentin Tarantino have regressed to delivering almost parody like showings of their own work.  Joel and Ethan Coen on the other hand have done well to avoid this trap. While it can be argued this is due to their preference for genre, the variety in their work continues to remain fresh. With ‘Inside Llewyn Davis’ the Coen Brothers deliver something they have never done before; a straight realism piece.

         Indeed it is almost striking how much the different the presentation here is in comparison to the rest of their body of work. While the Coen Brothers trademark cynicism still is prevalent, gone is their odd ball humor and more importantly or obviously is the condescension towards their main characters. The Coen Brothers love to ask the audience: “Can you see how stupid our characters are? Do you see their mistakes? Laugh at how dumb they are!” Here, they merely present the story of Llewyn, a struggling folk singer who attempts to come to grips with his averageness, with a somber sense of sympathy.  His struggles are not those of exaggerated buffoons done for comedic effect, but rather of an everyday individual trying to make sense of what it all means. Llewyn realizes his opportunity to make a living at his passion is narrowing and he must choose to continue to pursue it or abandon hope for something more stable. Given all this, it wouldn't be a Coen Brothers script if it didn't end with a punch and ‘Inside Llewyn Davis’ is no different as the ending is sure to make one look back at everything that happened previously in the film with a whole new perspective.

Screenplay Review: How to Catch a Monster

“Even if you gave it to me, I wouldn’t want to live here. Nobody wants to live here.”

        There seems to be a trend where amateur or first time writers/directors attempt to evoke elements of surrealism in their works. Whether this has to do with the allure of the style during formative years or whether it’s because of the relative ease and lack of accountability when it comes to explanation is to be determined. Popular actor Ryan Gosling falls into this trap as well with his debut screenplay “How to Catch a Monster”.  Think David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet” retold as a coming of age tale set in an unnamed city. All the elements are in play here: the derelict industrial city that plays as the antithesis to the typical American dream, the shady under workings of society where men wear masks and women participate in sexual activities, the unexplained reasons for destruction, the absurdly weird side characters.

       Gosling creates the setting for his main character, a young boy named Bones who yearns for escape, but due to circumstance is seemingly perpetually stuck in the dump that is his city. His few outlets in life include working on his broken down car and fantasizing about a girl he follows, but these pleasures are countered by his mother’s lack of finance and the local bully who terrorizes his life. Ultimately this type of material requires someone who has a strict understanding of the craft and Gosling proves to still be learning. Blatant symbolism with characters literally having names such as BONES, BULLY, RAT, WOLF is riddled throughout the screenplay and little is of worth. In fact the titular monster barely plays at all. In the end it all seems a front for the standard coming of age tale romance so often seen in formulaic romantic comedies or indie dramas. Gosling tries to redeem himself with a strong, action packed climax, but is it enough? We’ll see.