Matt Holland on the Making of Cages: PART TWO B
08/24/04
CONTUNUED FROM YESTERDAY:
Though we'd never talked about it, I was certain that Graham loved "The Scent of Green Papaya" which, to the best of my recollection, didn't have a strong narrative. It might not have even had dialogue. I can picture that script reading something like this:
Cut to: A woman slicing a papaya
Cut to: Reeds blowing in the wind
Cut to: An ant crawling up a bamboo stalk
Cut to: The Papaya
Now, I can follow that. I don't care to, but I can. I'm not suggesting that Graham's script looked anything like that. There was plenty of dialogue. I still wasn't sure what happened in the script or why it happened. I returned to the treadmill to formulate a polite, ginger critique.
Graham's car was in his driveway when I returned home. I attemted to sneak into my house, but Graham saw me and waved effusively. He seemed happier than his normal state of happy, like my golden retriever when I return home from a long vacation or a trip to the corner market. I wondered if he was on Prozac.
"Well, what did you think?" Graham asked enthusiastically. I thought: "What are you damn happy about?," but I said: "Graham I have some questions. Some things didn't make sense to me."
"What didn't make sense?" He asked with a furrowed brow suggesting serious thought or, perhaps, constipation.
"Well...all of it. I didn't understand anything. You're going to have to explain to me all of the characters motivations and, basically, what happened." So much for tact.
Graham gave me the retriever look. This time, confusion-head cocked: one ear up, one ear down.
"Can you be a little more...specific?" Graham said evenly. I was relieved that he was receptive to criticism, even interested in hearing it. Some writers would have told me to fuck myself or slugged me.
"Sure." I paused, not knowing where to start. "Why did the father abandon his daughter?"
"He drowned his previous two children, but maybe it was an accident. Or maybe he was order to give her up by the courts."
"What!? I think that may be a bit strong, even for Sundance."
"Okay, okay. I haven't thought that through yet, but that's why the daughter's so angry. And self-destructive. That's why she's such a mess! You can see it in her relationship choices!" Graham was talking excitedly now, almost on the verge of sputtering.
I elected to move on, and started firing questions at him randomly. "Why is her boyfriend so angry? And what is he screaming about in the opening scene?"
"He's story of her irresponsibility. She's pushed him to far. She uses men. It's a consequence of being abandoned."
"Okay. Why does the father take her in after twenty years and why don't they talk to each other after he does?"
"He feels guilty, well, conflicted about having abandoned her. The reason they don't talk is they're feeling each other out. And it's cultural."
"Who's the older woman hanging around and what's her relationship to her father?"
"Liz is an old friend. She might have an unrequited crush on him. Maybe they had a relationship. I haven't fleshed that out just yet. But she's going to provide some comic relief to balance the drama. I want to cast a Singaporean actress and have her speak a mix of English and Chinese. Singlish."
"Why didn't I know any of these things from reading the script?"
"It's a first draft. But I can see the movie in my head."
"Is it like "The Scent of Green Papaya?"
"I love that movie! But, no."
"That's good Graham," I said intending to be supportive, but instead sounding patronizing. Graham was either too nice, or too polite, to take notice. "My friend Tim works as a script doctor. Do you mind if I give it to him to have a look?"
"No, no, no. Not at all. I'd like to hear his comments."
"We're going to Two Bunch Palms in the desert this weekend. I'll take it with us."
Tim and I were collaborating at the time. By "collabrating" I mean dating, but we were talking about some writing projects. Both efforts proved fruitless. But we did share the same dark sensibilty. I think the term in currency then was "edge." Now claiming to have an edge is about as original as spinoff based on "Joe Millionaire."
Neither Tim, nor I would be writing a tale of love, reconcilliation and hope, unless it took place in a crack house. There would be no languid shots of sunsets or rainbows in our movie. There would be searing depictions of dysfunctional people, mined for comic value. If people didn't identify with the characters, they could at least walk away feeling grateful for whatever normalcy they had in their lives. Better yet, they could walk away feeling smug and superior to anyone connected to the project. Tell me that feeling is not worth ten dollars, plus the cost of refreshments.
Let me reiterate that I admire anyone who has enough artistic talent to trace the outline of poodle from a matchbook sufficiently well to gain acceptance to a correspondence art school. Graham's art and design sense is literal. He creates or captures images as they appear and makes them beautiful.
I couldn't conceive in my mind's eye the image of dappled sunlight or leaves beaded with sweat if I were threatened with mayhem. My artistic ability is limited to spin art and furiously scribbling in restaurants that provide paper tablecloths and crayons. That latter talent usually draws comments of concern from food servers. My only hope is that these skills will serve me well when it's time for placement in an assisted-living facility.
Tim and I talked about "Cages," what would make it a stronger script and possible solutions to communicating different plot points. We picked the script apart the way a crow picks at a carcass or, I'm told, the way I eat dinner in public. Tim is particularly good with structure and creating momentum in a story. I'm more oriented toward dialogue and storyline. Okay, just dialogue. Nevertheless, we each came up with various suggestions to strengthen the script.
When we met with Graham, at his patio breakfast table, Tim gave him our notes. Graham scribbled furiously on his script as Tim talked, ocassionally saying: That's good! That's good!" I got no credit for any of the ideas that were mine. That was fine. In fact, I've almost completely forgotten that time, some three years ago, when Graham was struggling with a plot point and suggested I call Tim. I'm not petty that way.
Countless walks and trips to Starbucks later, Graham had a final draft. Liz had morphed from Singaporean to British. The boyfriend's name was changed from Mark, to Eric, to possibly something else to Ethan. I don't know whether Graham used any of my or Tim's suggestions-I don't even remember what they were. I still don't know why the father abandoned his daughter. As I said, I haven't read the final script.
Matt J. Holland
Next: Casting or Chasing Matthew McCannaughy (and other shameless namedropping)
Check out Matt Hollands other writings on August 8th and yesterday's entry, August 23rd, and look forward to his upcoming work as well.
|
