Internet Movie Data Backlog

For over twelve years I have been using the Internet Movie Database (Imdb) as a source of information regarding films (or "movies", if you're American) and their writers, actors, directors, etc. I suppose many of us do take advantage of this highly useful resource. It has loads of amazing features including the listing of actors whose names did not appear on the credits, so at least the site gives the aggrieved and those who desire attention to detail some satisfaction. There's also information about filming locations.

In fact, if you consider just how many films and television programmes have been made over the better part of 100 years, and add the number of actors and technicians, and then consider that each one requires a separate webpage, and then add another one for pertinent trivia, plot summary, full synopsis... that is a lot of web pages and one hell of a ginormous database.

And there's always a "but"...

...it is flawed with inaccuracies that, at times, can cause severe grinding of the teeth. This is because it relies on ordinary people (me, you) to submit information and, whilst Imdb hangs on to the new data for a few days, supposedly getting it checked, the good stuff can end up growing whiskers in the backlog and, inevitably (because ordinary people are not always the best source of information), stuff that isn't factually correct can actuallyget posted. In my experience, by the time you have gone through the rigmarole of freely giving data, by the time it has been – and in some cases not – posted, you have lost interest and moved on.

Since 1998 the database has been owned by Amazon and, when one considers the size of that company and the fact that it uses Imdb as a tool to further its own sales (and who can blame it?), it makes me wonder why the vetting system is so slow and so defective.

And then it expects industry "professionals" and committed film fans to fork out $12.95 per month for even more errors. No, thanks; there are other places to get this information.

Unforgiven

I know when a film or television programme has impressed me because the following morning I awake thinking about it. It's almost as if I have been playing it again whilst asleep. Believe me when I say that I am not conscious of having any choice in the matter.

This morning it was Unforgiven, written by Sally Wainwright. This was shown on ITV in early 2009 (and repeated in our living room yesterday evening) and is the story of a woman who has served 15 years in prison for killing two police officers. Set and filmed in and around Halifax, which isn't a million miles away from where I live, the script is remarkable for its mix of compelling characters, setups, conflict and a damned good story.

I'm not usually a fan of stuff "made somewhere up north" with the tendency to film amongst rows of terraced houses, council estates and other stereotypical images, but Unforgiven doesn't quite fit into that category and instead expertly mixes locations, images and social classes. It's not only the writing – it's the direction and the acting. Everyone's performance is faultless and I can only hope, if ever one of my screenplays gets the treatment, that it will be blessed with such outstanding performances.

It is amazing and – I know I've said this before and will keep on doing so – scriptwriters old and new can learn much from this excellent writing.

Sally Wainwright does not appear to have a personal website. Maybe she is too busy, which is understandable, but if you know any different please follow the link on the right to my website, choose "contact" and let me know.

The movie with everything

Can you believe that it was over six years ago when Jonathan Ross suggested to viewers of his Film 2003 programme that they vote Cameron's Titanic the "worst film ever"?

At the time I was heftily cheesed off. Why? Was I personally involved in the making of this epic? Had James Cameron asked me to invest a couple of hundred quid in it? (No, but I wish he had!)

The fact is that I was impressed with the film and I still am, although back in 2003 I had no idea why. It is thanks to this degree course, which is allowing me to discover the inner secrets of film/movie making, that I now know what it was that makes that film so special.

Quite simply, it has everything that we, as an audience, need in a story: suffering, tragedy of character and reversal of fortune – and all wrapped-up in a complex story surrounding the sinking of the ship, which is where the spectacle aspect comes in with its sets, the stunning visual elements, costumes, special effects and music. It is primal: there's sex as well as the need to survive, and you can't get more primal than that. There is just so much going on in the story... so which is the main story – the love story or the sinking? Does it matter? It works! and millions went to see it at the cinema and millions bought their own copies on VHS and, like me and others I know (we're not related, just in case you were wondering), they have since upgraded to DVD.

What I want to know is, why did so many "viewers" of Film 2003 indulge Ross' whim and effectively admit they had made a mistake by liking the film so much before they had matured? Did the Brits dislike it so much because it was so successful? Perhaps that one is wearing a bit thin, but there's still plenty of mileage in the claim of a negativity epidemic. Could it have been a predominantly male vote? I mean, I would imagine that most men (and particularly those who would count Ross as one of their drinking partners, given half the chance) would consider Titanic to be a soppy love story.

Whatever the reason for the poll's result, theoretically it doesn't stick and, in his more sensible moments – that is, when not pandering to the fickle whims of the youthful audience he craves – even Jonathan Ross must admit that it was an ill-considered nudging of a public vote.

Breaking and entering the rule book

Surely a writer's blog such as this one would benefit from some discussion of work by other fiction-masters? So far I have talked only about films and television programmes that I can be positive about.

But then, certainly at UCF, critical evaluation of fellow writers' work is actively encouraged – more so, in fact, because if we don't critique each other, then we don't pass the course.

This leaves me wondering – and I hope you can see my dilemma – about the ethics regarding the discussion of successful writers' work when I am merely learning the trade. I have already had one, unjustified, warning from a tutor who said I should not "diss the industry" in which I want to work. She was mistaken, but at the same time her admonition has acted as a kind of brake and caused me to consider every word that I write.

So is it okay for me to discuss the work of established writers? My current wife says, 'Yes, because if all screenwriting was considered to be on a par, there wouldn't be awards such as the BAFTAs and Oscars, would there?'

Then is it okay for me to make judgements? I mean, I'm supposed to be learning from the work of industry professionals and, in some cases, some of the material out there comes nowhere near the standards that, at UCF, we are expected to deliver.

Richard Curtis rocks again

Yes, I know it came out in April 2009, but I was waiting for someone to buy the DVD for us for Christmas. They didn't, but our daughter invited us to watch hers and I have to say it is superb. Of course, I'm referring to The Boat that Rocked or, for those in the US (where titles are patronisingly simplified), Pirate Radio. That doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?

Curtis has done a marvellous job with this unusual choice of subject – hmm, perhaps unusual isn't the right word... I would say refreshingly different choice of subject. The screenplay seems (I say this because such matters are usually open to theoretical analysis) to follow the three-act principles (although his Four Weddings and a Funeral had five acts) and I was so engrossed in the plot that I missed the break into Act 2, but I did catch the Act 3 transition.

With brilliant characters, a lively plot, unusual (there's that word again) locations, twists and an amazing moment of catharsis... this feel-good film will be a favourite with so many people for decades to come. Yes, I spotted some anachronisms – but hey, it's a story, not a documentary, and those people who glue themselves to the screen with notepads at the ready are peculiarly sad and need to get a life.

The trick when studying screenwriting is how to enjoy screen entertainment whilst simultaneously breaking it up into its component parts. I suppose in some cases it just means watching stuff again and again. Education can be so cruel.

Fragility

Jack London (1876-1916) said, "You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." Well, sometimes inspiration comes knocking on your door whether you want it or not, as indeed it has done here this week – on two occasions: one unfortunate, the other sad.

To be honest, it's not really inspiration; just pictures to go into the great image bank. For both instances it's the sort of experience I would rather imagine than live through. I've seen people being incredibly strong, spiritually, when they have experienced one of the worst blows that can be dealt – not the worst, perhaps, but still bloody awful.

I feel awkward because I am taking it all in: the words, the gestures, the sorrow and the strength.

And yes, should I ever need to write such scenes I may find myself calling on what I have witnessed people living through because writing isn't only about making up stuff – it is about showing life and death and how it affects people, altering their lives and philosophies and how they see the world.

Writing can also be about showing just how fragile we really are.

Ready When You Are...

When I saw that my current wife had ordered Ready When You Are, Mr McGill, on the Sky+ box, I wondered why ITV had decided to get out this title from 1976, which is when I first saw it. At the time I was too young and inexperienced in life to fully grasp the wealth of the characterisations contained in this little story.

But no, this was a different version, updated, lengthened and fully developed to an absolute peak of perfection that other screenwriters can learn lots from. Written by Jack Rosenthal, the story is about an ageing film “extra” who gets that which is most-coveted by such supporting artistes the whole world over – a line or two of dialogue. He is surrounded, though, by real-life characters whose actions and stories are masterfully woven into 90 minutes of chaos and mishaps.

Although made in early 2003, it was first screened by Sky Movies in September 2004 – after Rosenthal had died. The reason, reportedly, is that he had re-written the story as a comment on TV executives and ITV weren’t happy about it. Of course, this all adds to the insight into what goes on in the background of making a film and the inherent politics. Highly entertaining. I will watch it again many times.

A great idea!

When writing about contemporary issues, there’s always the possibility that the burning subject matter will be well out of date by the time it gets aired. This doesn’t apply only to stuff on screen, but this is the area I’m concerned with.

For example, we are one year into the current economic recession and the effects can be seen to be biting hard with more shops shuttered and boarded, rising unemployment figures, bundles of old coats dumped on shopping precincts with their scrawled messages on cardboard, and a general air of threadbare about life. If you’re a bank boss, though, it’s a different story.

And there it is – the beginnings of the premise for a drama about the extent of the recession and how it affects both the victims and those who brought it about. Hmm, it sounds a bit one-sided already, doesn’t it? Well, we could sort that out in Act 2.

Of course, after the months of outlining and scriptwriting, finding a producer, getting the backing and finance, and finally cobbling together the cast, crew, locations, studio and post-production facilities... we’re very likely to be well out of it and, basking in the new wealth of the twenty-teens, these harsh times of the noughties will be just a blip in people’s memories and the toss will have no value.

Re-hashing a winning concept

The Prisoner was a popular television series back in 1968. It kept the pubs empty until after 9 pm when that evening’s episode had come to another unsatisfactory end – which is what we viewers wanted, even if we didn’t realise it.

The story concerned a recently-resigned British spy who, because of his knowledge, was kidnapped and made to live in a beautiful Italianate village where, presumably, the authorities (whoever they were) either attempted to get the information out of him or wanted to see if he could be broken. His identity was gone; he was now just Number 6. No one in their right minds would want to leave there, so you’d think, but all these years later I can see strong similarities between me and Number 6 and now I understand just why he had to attempt escape, week after week after week.

No one knew who ran the Village. In fact I doubt if Patrick McGoohan, who conceived the series, even knew who the baddies were. The popularity and cult status (even before the term was coined) took both him and the programme makers completely by surprise and he was forced to write beyond the few episodes that he originally conceived.

This morning I watched the first episode of the remake of The Prisoner Now, remakes are not the best idea and the bank statements of US film-investors are littered with horror stories of good British stuff that has been remade and blitzed in the US – The Avengers, The Italian Job, Get Carter... However, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt whilst doing this writing course, it is never to preconceive; give everything a chance. So I sat down with an open mind, willing to take this part-US production on its own merits. I wasn’t expecting a miracle, but I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. In fact, it was good.

There are plenty of subtle references and homages to the original, which is a nice touch. The Village itself ain’t so good, being set in what looks like an African desert, but the baddies are more ruthless than the originals and will go to any lengths to contain the villagers. The concept of killing someone nicely (?) has gone out with the British upper-class accent.

Perhaps the good quality is down to ITV’s involvement and, as already mentioned, its willingness to show respect for the original that has made the company a mint over the years and whose DVDs are selling so well they have recently been released in Blu-Ray.

Now, that’s the best sign of a winning concept.

It’s in the genres

“I’m working on the stage play,” I told Greville. I felt rather proud – not because I had skilfully negotiated a particularly traumatising piece of writing; no, this was because my romCom had been sent to my tutor for critical appraisal and so, unable to get further stuck in (and this is the crunch) I had been able to swap effortlessly – effortlessly, mind – to working on another project. Yes, I was indeed chuffed at my powers of versatility and I told him so. Not that Greville was familiar with such words.
      He thought about this whilst piling up the logs on the hearth for that evening’s great blaze when we would tell tales by the fireside.
      “That doesn’t count,” he said.
      “What doesn’t count?”
      “They’re the same genre.”
       I almost choked.
      “Your stage play is a comedy, right? And so’s that romantic thingy.” He placed the last log on the top of the pile – where I was certain it would roll down. It didn’t. “No, that’s not versatility,” he said and went to put the kettle on.