Bill Conrad's Blog - Posts Tagged "movies"
Translating Books to Film
There are many great books available and a precious few are made into movies. When the conversion from book to script is made, the plot has to be trimmed. Sometimes this is a large effort and sometimes, just a few scenes are removed. Even in the best case, a movie will only contain 90% of the book’s plot.
Authors have unlimited freedom in their characters, location, story, and reality. For example, a character can be in New York one day and the next in Antarctica. Having a full movie crew in a big city like New York and an icy place like Antarctica is a huge undertaking.
Movie audiences have a vastly different set of expectations and needs. They require a faster plot, a more universal story that does not offend. Movie studios also have to discreetly advertise products, build actor’s egos, take filmmaking to the next level, please the lawyers and include a music score.
The result can be less than ideal from the perspective of a person who is familiar with the book. However, from the perspective of the person who is unfamiliar with the book, the movie usually is a good experience. With that in mind, let’s look at a few examples of books that I have read and the resulting movie.
Great movies and great books that did not resemble each other: City of Ember, The Shawshank Redemption, The Princess Bride, Ready Player One and A Wrinkle in Time.
All of these books were outstanding with strong plots, good dialog, and terrific characters. The movies had great plots, great actors, superb cinematography and memorable dialog. However, the underlying plots didn’t match.
Why was this done? In my opinion, the parts that made the book great were the attention to detail. The parts that made the movies great were the exciting plot additions, added humor and added character insight. In addition, some of the plot issues were corrected. Was there an improvement over the original work? Is it ethical to drastically change the plot for the sake of making an exciting movie? In my opinion, yes because I like a good movie.
Movies are visual, exciting and they have real people (or animated characters.) A book can say main character Bob had flowing red hair, with his trademark yellow hat, never smiles and is 17 years old. In the movie, the dashing Tom Cruise dramatically portrays the character. Through the film, he wears many different outfits, has many expressions and obviously does not have red hair. But, Tom Cruise sells a lot of tickets.
Bad book, great movie: How to Train Your Dragon and Drive.
These are two of my favorite moves and I immediately got the book. Both books had a slow wishy-washy story, under-developed character, ineffective drama, and ZERO character chemistry. It was clear that the screenwriter did a complete tear down of the entire plot. What was left was some of the basic premise, the title, and the character names.
The movies, of course, were astounding. Both are in my top 10 and I just cannot say enough about them. I really want to meet the screenwriters and directors who made these movies. But what about the book? My only comment was: The authors were really lucky to have their work considered for a film.
Great book, bad movie: Dune and Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
I have read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy at least 3 times. Dune was just fantastic; so completely epic; such an original plot.
However, these books came with a catch. Neither one should ever be made into a movie. The only way to capture a story like Dune is in a 10 part mini-series. Any attempt to make a single movie would be doomed to failure. Ha, get the pun.
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy was the funniest books there have ever been. It is also one of the most creative science fiction books there has ever been. In addition, there is a lot going on with many subtle elements. This story was adapted into a great radio play and the author even wrote the movie screenplay. What made the book great was simply not possible to convey in a single film. The result was a bad compromise that disappointed audiences on many levels.
Great movie that matched the great book: Firefox.
This is the only movie that I have ever found to be exactly like the book. The screenwriter did a great job of capturing the best parts of the book in a fluid way that mirrored every single chapter. Why do so few books match their movies? Hard to say. My only guess is that the author of Firefox had a movie deal in mind when he wrote his book.
What will the future hold for movies that are translated into books? My guess will be more of the same. Talented screenwriters will take books and turn them into gems or flops. Movie audiences will expect more and want to pay less. Directors will continue to push the envelope and continue to dazzle moviegoers.
As for me, I will continue to read and watch a lot of movies. Perhaps someday, one of my books will make it onto the big screen. Will the move be a winner? I hope so.
Authors have unlimited freedom in their characters, location, story, and reality. For example, a character can be in New York one day and the next in Antarctica. Having a full movie crew in a big city like New York and an icy place like Antarctica is a huge undertaking.
Movie audiences have a vastly different set of expectations and needs. They require a faster plot, a more universal story that does not offend. Movie studios also have to discreetly advertise products, build actor’s egos, take filmmaking to the next level, please the lawyers and include a music score.
The result can be less than ideal from the perspective of a person who is familiar with the book. However, from the perspective of the person who is unfamiliar with the book, the movie usually is a good experience. With that in mind, let’s look at a few examples of books that I have read and the resulting movie.
Great movies and great books that did not resemble each other: City of Ember, The Shawshank Redemption, The Princess Bride, Ready Player One and A Wrinkle in Time.
All of these books were outstanding with strong plots, good dialog, and terrific characters. The movies had great plots, great actors, superb cinematography and memorable dialog. However, the underlying plots didn’t match.
Why was this done? In my opinion, the parts that made the book great were the attention to detail. The parts that made the movies great were the exciting plot additions, added humor and added character insight. In addition, some of the plot issues were corrected. Was there an improvement over the original work? Is it ethical to drastically change the plot for the sake of making an exciting movie? In my opinion, yes because I like a good movie.
Movies are visual, exciting and they have real people (or animated characters.) A book can say main character Bob had flowing red hair, with his trademark yellow hat, never smiles and is 17 years old. In the movie, the dashing Tom Cruise dramatically portrays the character. Through the film, he wears many different outfits, has many expressions and obviously does not have red hair. But, Tom Cruise sells a lot of tickets.
Bad book, great movie: How to Train Your Dragon and Drive.
These are two of my favorite moves and I immediately got the book. Both books had a slow wishy-washy story, under-developed character, ineffective drama, and ZERO character chemistry. It was clear that the screenwriter did a complete tear down of the entire plot. What was left was some of the basic premise, the title, and the character names.
The movies, of course, were astounding. Both are in my top 10 and I just cannot say enough about them. I really want to meet the screenwriters and directors who made these movies. But what about the book? My only comment was: The authors were really lucky to have their work considered for a film.
Great book, bad movie: Dune and Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
I have read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy at least 3 times. Dune was just fantastic; so completely epic; such an original plot.
However, these books came with a catch. Neither one should ever be made into a movie. The only way to capture a story like Dune is in a 10 part mini-series. Any attempt to make a single movie would be doomed to failure. Ha, get the pun.
Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy was the funniest books there have ever been. It is also one of the most creative science fiction books there has ever been. In addition, there is a lot going on with many subtle elements. This story was adapted into a great radio play and the author even wrote the movie screenplay. What made the book great was simply not possible to convey in a single film. The result was a bad compromise that disappointed audiences on many levels.
Great movie that matched the great book: Firefox.
This is the only movie that I have ever found to be exactly like the book. The screenwriter did a great job of capturing the best parts of the book in a fluid way that mirrored every single chapter. Why do so few books match their movies? Hard to say. My only guess is that the author of Firefox had a movie deal in mind when he wrote his book.
What will the future hold for movies that are translated into books? My guess will be more of the same. Talented screenwriters will take books and turn them into gems or flops. Movie audiences will expect more and want to pay less. Directors will continue to push the envelope and continue to dazzle moviegoers.
As for me, I will continue to read and watch a lot of movies. Perhaps someday, one of my books will make it onto the big screen. Will the move be a winner? I hope so.
When Plots Go Bad
Stories can be good, average, or bad. It is easy to categorize what we like or dislike. For example, a terrible story might be unbelievable, silly (when they should be serious) off-topic, or upsetting. However, some plots are bad and cannot categorize why.
Authors use many established rules to build remarkable stories—for example, the three-act story structure, the hook, or the dramatic conclusion. However, many marvelous stories do not contain classic elements, and I can dispel this mythical requirement with two words. Forrest Gump.
From a high-level view, this movie has nothing going for it. There is no classic plot, the romance is flawed, and the viewer gets hit by multiple untimely deaths. From a three-act, hook, and logical plot perspective, this movie is a complete failure. Yet, I loved that movie, and many other people would place this movie in their top five. (The book did not impress me, but that is a future topic.)
Let’s examine another movie, Avatar. It contains a three-act story with a hook and dramatic conclusion. Plus, the special effects, music, acting, and excellent premise which pushed the movie envelope. Also, the movie made lots of money, and many people loved it.
I was not too fond of the movie. Why? I could point out the underdeveloped characters, logic faults, implausibility, and blatant plot rip-off (Pocahontas.) However, that is not the core problem, and it took some time to put my anger into words.
My dislike stems from the movie demanding viewers to take on a mythical creature’s plight. To me, this felt like being forced to live with a hippie roommate. Do you know any giant blue beings who communicate through their tails? I do not either, which makes it hard for the viewer to relate to their struggle against invading humans.
How can writers prevent these issues? In a past blog, I discussed outlines:
http://interviewingimmortality.com/bl...
It occurred to me that it is possible to identify significant plot problems at the outline stage. How would I have changed Avatar’s plot? The movie should have started without humans and established a baseline. I would then introduce humans halfway through the movie. Then, the audience would see how badly humans treated the blue creatures. This plot would have been more dramatic and relatable. Perhaps a common foe would have been helpful.
Plots can go wrong when an author cannot analyze the big picture from the consumer’s perspective. My second book contained these issues. I had a weak beginning, one arrogant main character, and another weak main character. It took a year of editing to correct these flaws. In my sixth book, the outline revealed a fundamental problem. My plot lacked focus (the story drifted away from the core premise.) It took four months of tinkering to update the outline. Had I started writing without an outline, the book would have been a disaster.
What flaws should we try to identify at the outline stage? A plot must connect with readers, keep them interested, and leave them entertained. How does an author do this? My best suggestion is to look at the outline several times and ask for opinions. The author should not get feedback like, “Hey, you have a story about a race car driver. Where are the racing scenes?” “Why does the hero lose every battle? Heroes should win battles.” “What should I like in this character? He’s a jerk.”
Why don’t author’s see the issues ahead of time? We focus on the little things and cannot spot significant problems. The most common problem is creating a great story that the author enjoys but the reader hate. Looking into the mirror can be difficult.
Authors use many established rules to build remarkable stories—for example, the three-act story structure, the hook, or the dramatic conclusion. However, many marvelous stories do not contain classic elements, and I can dispel this mythical requirement with two words. Forrest Gump.
From a high-level view, this movie has nothing going for it. There is no classic plot, the romance is flawed, and the viewer gets hit by multiple untimely deaths. From a three-act, hook, and logical plot perspective, this movie is a complete failure. Yet, I loved that movie, and many other people would place this movie in their top five. (The book did not impress me, but that is a future topic.)
Let’s examine another movie, Avatar. It contains a three-act story with a hook and dramatic conclusion. Plus, the special effects, music, acting, and excellent premise which pushed the movie envelope. Also, the movie made lots of money, and many people loved it.
I was not too fond of the movie. Why? I could point out the underdeveloped characters, logic faults, implausibility, and blatant plot rip-off (Pocahontas.) However, that is not the core problem, and it took some time to put my anger into words.
My dislike stems from the movie demanding viewers to take on a mythical creature’s plight. To me, this felt like being forced to live with a hippie roommate. Do you know any giant blue beings who communicate through their tails? I do not either, which makes it hard for the viewer to relate to their struggle against invading humans.
How can writers prevent these issues? In a past blog, I discussed outlines:
http://interviewingimmortality.com/bl...
It occurred to me that it is possible to identify significant plot problems at the outline stage. How would I have changed Avatar’s plot? The movie should have started without humans and established a baseline. I would then introduce humans halfway through the movie. Then, the audience would see how badly humans treated the blue creatures. This plot would have been more dramatic and relatable. Perhaps a common foe would have been helpful.
Plots can go wrong when an author cannot analyze the big picture from the consumer’s perspective. My second book contained these issues. I had a weak beginning, one arrogant main character, and another weak main character. It took a year of editing to correct these flaws. In my sixth book, the outline revealed a fundamental problem. My plot lacked focus (the story drifted away from the core premise.) It took four months of tinkering to update the outline. Had I started writing without an outline, the book would have been a disaster.
What flaws should we try to identify at the outline stage? A plot must connect with readers, keep them interested, and leave them entertained. How does an author do this? My best suggestion is to look at the outline several times and ask for opinions. The author should not get feedback like, “Hey, you have a story about a race car driver. Where are the racing scenes?” “Why does the hero lose every battle? Heroes should win battles.” “What should I like in this character? He’s a jerk.”
Why don’t author’s see the issues ahead of time? We focus on the little things and cannot spot significant problems. The most common problem is creating a great story that the author enjoys but the reader hate. Looking into the mirror can be difficult.
Entering The Metaverse
There have been many popular entertainment themes over the years. In the early 50s, westerns wrangled the top, and science fiction mind-controlled the late 50s. Romance books loved the 70s and 80s took a circuit into cyberspace. Vampires sink their fangs into the 00s, and zombies slobbered the 10s.
Now, the Metaverse has slid into first place. The concept is that an infinite number of parallel universes exist, and one can “jump” from one to the other using a scientific device or supernatural powers.
Fiction writers invented this idea in the 50s, and I recall the episode of the original Star Trek where the crew jumped into the evil universe. “Mirror, Mirror” (TOS, Season 2, Episode 4)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirror,...
The Metaverse is a great plot tool because writers can explore every conceivable difference. Animals instead of people? Animated characters? Different genders? Those big differences are easy for the reader or viewer to grasp.
Many recent movies have explored the Metaverse, and a great example is Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. In the movie (spoiler alert) the lead character (Spider-Man) travels to multiple dimensions to fight evil.
The enormous advantage is that there are infinite possibilities, and it is fun to keep readers or the audience guessing. Another advantage is that the multi-universe theory explains the difference. For example, superpowers are impossible in our universe, so humans cannot lift a train like Superman. In the Multiverse, it is possible because that universe has different physics rules. Therefore, the writer does not have to spend excessive time explaining the differences. “In Multiverse 293, the people are farm animals.” “In Multiverse 293, there is no sound.” Big changes are both fun and easy to grasp.
The Multiverse has endless possibilities, and I think it will be at the forefront of entertainment for at least two more years. What is the next big theme after people get bored of the Multiverse? Are Westerns returning? Telepathy? Artificial Intelligence? More comic book characters?
I have two guesses about the next big plot device. Steam Punk is a Victorian era with advanced period correct (steam) technology. This setting has a lot of space to explore and is visually stunning.
I think we are going to jump deep into Artificial Intelligence plots. The plots might include characters developed with AI, animated with AI, or written by AI. Perhaps this might be an average person who had their job replaced by AI or a child taught by an AI teacher instead of a human.
Where are the werewolf stories? It’s only natural to go vampire, zombie, werewolf, and we are due for this change.
There is still room to explore in the Metaverse; it will always be a great plot tool. I hope they do not overuse it like the gun duels in Western movies. But considering the infinite number of Metaverse possibilities, there are endless plot possibilities. Or we could go to a universe where there are no plots.
You’re the best -Bill
July 19, 2023
Now, the Metaverse has slid into first place. The concept is that an infinite number of parallel universes exist, and one can “jump” from one to the other using a scientific device or supernatural powers.
Fiction writers invented this idea in the 50s, and I recall the episode of the original Star Trek where the crew jumped into the evil universe. “Mirror, Mirror” (TOS, Season 2, Episode 4)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mirror,...
The Metaverse is a great plot tool because writers can explore every conceivable difference. Animals instead of people? Animated characters? Different genders? Those big differences are easy for the reader or viewer to grasp.
Many recent movies have explored the Metaverse, and a great example is Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. In the movie (spoiler alert) the lead character (Spider-Man) travels to multiple dimensions to fight evil.
The enormous advantage is that there are infinite possibilities, and it is fun to keep readers or the audience guessing. Another advantage is that the multi-universe theory explains the difference. For example, superpowers are impossible in our universe, so humans cannot lift a train like Superman. In the Multiverse, it is possible because that universe has different physics rules. Therefore, the writer does not have to spend excessive time explaining the differences. “In Multiverse 293, the people are farm animals.” “In Multiverse 293, there is no sound.” Big changes are both fun and easy to grasp.
The Multiverse has endless possibilities, and I think it will be at the forefront of entertainment for at least two more years. What is the next big theme after people get bored of the Multiverse? Are Westerns returning? Telepathy? Artificial Intelligence? More comic book characters?
I have two guesses about the next big plot device. Steam Punk is a Victorian era with advanced period correct (steam) technology. This setting has a lot of space to explore and is visually stunning.
I think we are going to jump deep into Artificial Intelligence plots. The plots might include characters developed with AI, animated with AI, or written by AI. Perhaps this might be an average person who had their job replaced by AI or a child taught by an AI teacher instead of a human.
Where are the werewolf stories? It’s only natural to go vampire, zombie, werewolf, and we are due for this change.
There is still room to explore in the Metaverse; it will always be a great plot tool. I hope they do not overuse it like the gun duels in Western movies. But considering the infinite number of Metaverse possibilities, there are endless plot possibilities. Or we could go to a universe where there are no plots.
You’re the best -Bill
July 19, 2023
Aquaman’s Explosions
At a young age, my parents explained how dangerous fire is and how water will quickly put it out. I am sure everybody reading this article had the same lesson and fully understands the relationship between fire and water. Yet… Some Hollywood movie makers had parents who skipped that basic message.
In December, I watched Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. It’s not a fantastic plot, but I mostly enjoyed it. However, there was a glaring problem that angered me. The underwater battle scenes had massive explosions with giant orange fireballs. Umm, what?
It is possible to have an underwater explosion, and the result is a brief flash. Why? A fire requires three elements—fuel, oxygen, and heat. Being underwater rapidly removes all three, leaving smoky gas bubbles. Aquaman viewers saw incredible computer-generated explosions that lit up the screen.
Wait a minute. Movie audiences are supposed to get fooled. Harry Potter’s wand is imaginary, and the Star Wars Death Star cannot destroy a planet. It is all make-believe. There is even a name for it. “Movie Magic”
Yes, I know flaming explosions got added by computer artists to excite audiences, and we are supposed to accept this oversite. Yet, Fire + Water = No Fire That is cave-dweller grade logic. Ignoring such a fundamental law of nature is absurd.
Why did this one aspect of the film upset me? After all, the plot required many leaps. The whole movie was about underwater societies coming together. Then, the king of them all lived in a lighthouse, not the ocean. Somehow, he had a brother that fit into the plot. I bought into that illogical mess, but the massive underwater flames still got to me.
I know the film creators are under pressure to make something visually epic, and their choice to ignore physics should excite audiences. But let us not forget it is possible to create realistic underwater explosions. Filmmakers have been doing this since 1940s submarine movies. Technicians set off small explosives near models and filmed the result. Moviegoers see a yellow flash followed by grey bubbles. Simple, logical, realistic, and effective. Audiences watched those old movies and agreed that was how water and explosives worked.
I’m going to attack the issue from a different angle. Would it be acceptable for Harry Potter to use his wand to create a fire underwater? Could Luke Skywalker use The Force to do the same? What if Deadpool a lit cigarette? When he tossed it into the water, it would go out. Right? Yes, it would! But not Aquaman. No, he got permission to bypass common sense.
Of course, writers can play all kinds of games. Superman flies by, putting his hands up. Michel Knight talks to his car, Kitt. Scooby Doo solves mysteries. A road runner can run through a wall painted like a tunnel, while a coyote cannot. Doc Brown travels through time in a DeLorean. Wolverine had his bones replaced with metal. (How does he get through airport metal detectors?) Tony the Tiger even wants us to purchase his sugar-filled cereal.
So, we should give the filmmakers a break. Go ahead, light up some water. It is in the same category as Superman lifting a train. We all wish we could do that. Good job expanding our minds. Yeah, I am not buying it. Hey Aquaman. You, of all people, should know water extinguishes fire.
You’re the best -Bill
February 28, 2024
In December, I watched Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. It’s not a fantastic plot, but I mostly enjoyed it. However, there was a glaring problem that angered me. The underwater battle scenes had massive explosions with giant orange fireballs. Umm, what?
It is possible to have an underwater explosion, and the result is a brief flash. Why? A fire requires three elements—fuel, oxygen, and heat. Being underwater rapidly removes all three, leaving smoky gas bubbles. Aquaman viewers saw incredible computer-generated explosions that lit up the screen.
Wait a minute. Movie audiences are supposed to get fooled. Harry Potter’s wand is imaginary, and the Star Wars Death Star cannot destroy a planet. It is all make-believe. There is even a name for it. “Movie Magic”
Yes, I know flaming explosions got added by computer artists to excite audiences, and we are supposed to accept this oversite. Yet, Fire + Water = No Fire That is cave-dweller grade logic. Ignoring such a fundamental law of nature is absurd.
Why did this one aspect of the film upset me? After all, the plot required many leaps. The whole movie was about underwater societies coming together. Then, the king of them all lived in a lighthouse, not the ocean. Somehow, he had a brother that fit into the plot. I bought into that illogical mess, but the massive underwater flames still got to me.
I know the film creators are under pressure to make something visually epic, and their choice to ignore physics should excite audiences. But let us not forget it is possible to create realistic underwater explosions. Filmmakers have been doing this since 1940s submarine movies. Technicians set off small explosives near models and filmed the result. Moviegoers see a yellow flash followed by grey bubbles. Simple, logical, realistic, and effective. Audiences watched those old movies and agreed that was how water and explosives worked.
I’m going to attack the issue from a different angle. Would it be acceptable for Harry Potter to use his wand to create a fire underwater? Could Luke Skywalker use The Force to do the same? What if Deadpool a lit cigarette? When he tossed it into the water, it would go out. Right? Yes, it would! But not Aquaman. No, he got permission to bypass common sense.
Of course, writers can play all kinds of games. Superman flies by, putting his hands up. Michel Knight talks to his car, Kitt. Scooby Doo solves mysteries. A road runner can run through a wall painted like a tunnel, while a coyote cannot. Doc Brown travels through time in a DeLorean. Wolverine had his bones replaced with metal. (How does he get through airport metal detectors?) Tony the Tiger even wants us to purchase his sugar-filled cereal.
So, we should give the filmmakers a break. Go ahead, light up some water. It is in the same category as Superman lifting a train. We all wish we could do that. Good job expanding our minds. Yeah, I am not buying it. Hey Aquaman. You, of all people, should know water extinguishes fire.
You’re the best -Bill
February 28, 2024
Based On a True Story
I recently watched the movie The Long Game, which is an inspirational story of Mexican American teenagers forming a golf club at a South Texas high school. It was a great film, but something irked me. The text “based on a true story” appeared right after the title.
The next day, I researched the facts, and the screenwriters had embellished them. Well, this is to be expected. Life is not always exciting, and moviegoers like action, drama, and intrigue. “It could have happened this way.” “The screenwriter punched up the story to make it fun.” “Who cares?”
And look who is getting upset. I write fiction, which means I am lying to every single reader. My first book is about an immortal. Living forever breaks the rules of physics and medicine. My second book is a spy drama where two nations tap secret American communication cables. That never happened. The third contains a storyline about telepathy and aliens. Completely impossible. Yet, I have the nerve to complain about a screenwriter uplifting an excellent story so moviegoers are more entertained.
I suppose I have dug myself into a hole. “We like our entertainment to be entertaining.” “It’s normal.” Umm, no. I still feel cheated. So, what is going on in my bonkers mind?
Here are the facts behind this movie. Golfing events occurred, and many people participated. These facts were recorded in newspapers. Author Humberto Garcia researched old newspapers, interviewed people, and wrote the excellent book Mustang Miracle. Wonderful. Then, the screenwriter tweaked the story to create an entertaining movie. Sure, “liberties” were taken, but the results were close to the original story.
It took only a few minutes of internet research to uncover the differences. “Why not go with the original? It was an interesting story. No need to embellish.” More to the point. “By putting this text on the screen, the movie producers admit to lying.”
The counterargument is that the movie version of events was more entertaining, and the “based on a true story” text makes it alright for viewers because they know creative liberties were applied right at the film’s beginning, meaning nobody was cheated.
Well? Is it fiction or nonfiction? A documentary or fairy tale? The film producers wish us to believe their movie contains a high percentage of solidly researched facts. After all, the screenwriter did not use aliens like I did.
Here is my disconnect. If the screenwriters change some minor facts, I would be fine. Instead, they changed a bunch and slapped a “based on a true story” text to reduce the complaints. Plus, they did not want to get hit with a lawsuit.
Having the “based on a true story” text seems like a copout that translates to: “I could not find a good story, so I took this bad one and changed a bunch of stuff. Now, pay me.”
When I researched the real story, I wondered what those players would think. The only way I can answer is to examine my own life. It has not been overly exciting, but what if there were a thrilling movie about me?
Matt Damon could play me; he even looks like me. I could have a mind-blowing childhood full of race cars and flying fighter aircraft like the film Iron Eagle. When I turned 25, I could invent a machine that cured cancer and fall in love with a fantastic woman played by Lucy Liu. And who would play my wise Uncle Al? Al Pacino. They even have the same first name. Fantastic!
Cured cancer? Race cars? Fighter jets? What the heck? I did not do that. Well… Can I imagine doing that? As proof, screenwriters invented the story for Iron Eagle. Here is the difference. There was no “based on a true story” disclaimer at the beginning of that movie. We all know it was pure fiction.
Yet, movie studios want a pass. “Come on. Watch our film. It has Dennis Quaid and Cheech Martin in it.” Well, I have a counterargument. Why don’t nonfiction books have that statement? “Building the Panama Canal. How Teddy Roosevelt single-handedly completed the entire project with a shovel. Based on a true story.” See, that does not work.
There are two reasons why nonfiction books do not punch up true stories. There is a long tradition of honesty among authors because readers have a higher standard. Second, the backlash is brutal when a nonfiction author is caught embellishing.
I should chill out and enjoy movies based on a true story. They are fun, and there is no actual harm. Yeah… It still leaves a bad taste.
You’re the best -Bill
August 14, 2024
The next day, I researched the facts, and the screenwriters had embellished them. Well, this is to be expected. Life is not always exciting, and moviegoers like action, drama, and intrigue. “It could have happened this way.” “The screenwriter punched up the story to make it fun.” “Who cares?”
And look who is getting upset. I write fiction, which means I am lying to every single reader. My first book is about an immortal. Living forever breaks the rules of physics and medicine. My second book is a spy drama where two nations tap secret American communication cables. That never happened. The third contains a storyline about telepathy and aliens. Completely impossible. Yet, I have the nerve to complain about a screenwriter uplifting an excellent story so moviegoers are more entertained.
I suppose I have dug myself into a hole. “We like our entertainment to be entertaining.” “It’s normal.” Umm, no. I still feel cheated. So, what is going on in my bonkers mind?
Here are the facts behind this movie. Golfing events occurred, and many people participated. These facts were recorded in newspapers. Author Humberto Garcia researched old newspapers, interviewed people, and wrote the excellent book Mustang Miracle. Wonderful. Then, the screenwriter tweaked the story to create an entertaining movie. Sure, “liberties” were taken, but the results were close to the original story.
It took only a few minutes of internet research to uncover the differences. “Why not go with the original? It was an interesting story. No need to embellish.” More to the point. “By putting this text on the screen, the movie producers admit to lying.”
The counterargument is that the movie version of events was more entertaining, and the “based on a true story” text makes it alright for viewers because they know creative liberties were applied right at the film’s beginning, meaning nobody was cheated.
Well? Is it fiction or nonfiction? A documentary or fairy tale? The film producers wish us to believe their movie contains a high percentage of solidly researched facts. After all, the screenwriter did not use aliens like I did.
Here is my disconnect. If the screenwriters change some minor facts, I would be fine. Instead, they changed a bunch and slapped a “based on a true story” text to reduce the complaints. Plus, they did not want to get hit with a lawsuit.
Having the “based on a true story” text seems like a copout that translates to: “I could not find a good story, so I took this bad one and changed a bunch of stuff. Now, pay me.”
When I researched the real story, I wondered what those players would think. The only way I can answer is to examine my own life. It has not been overly exciting, but what if there were a thrilling movie about me?
Matt Damon could play me; he even looks like me. I could have a mind-blowing childhood full of race cars and flying fighter aircraft like the film Iron Eagle. When I turned 25, I could invent a machine that cured cancer and fall in love with a fantastic woman played by Lucy Liu. And who would play my wise Uncle Al? Al Pacino. They even have the same first name. Fantastic!
Cured cancer? Race cars? Fighter jets? What the heck? I did not do that. Well… Can I imagine doing that? As proof, screenwriters invented the story for Iron Eagle. Here is the difference. There was no “based on a true story” disclaimer at the beginning of that movie. We all know it was pure fiction.
Yet, movie studios want a pass. “Come on. Watch our film. It has Dennis Quaid and Cheech Martin in it.” Well, I have a counterargument. Why don’t nonfiction books have that statement? “Building the Panama Canal. How Teddy Roosevelt single-handedly completed the entire project with a shovel. Based on a true story.” See, that does not work.
There are two reasons why nonfiction books do not punch up true stories. There is a long tradition of honesty among authors because readers have a higher standard. Second, the backlash is brutal when a nonfiction author is caught embellishing.
I should chill out and enjoy movies based on a true story. They are fun, and there is no actual harm. Yeah… It still leaves a bad taste.
You’re the best -Bill
August 14, 2024
Disliking Your Creation
One of my top ten moves is Better Off Dead. The 1985 film was written and directed by Savage Steve Holland and starred a young John Cusack. Many viewers would consider this a brat-pack, teeny-bopper, and typical 80s film, but I found it well-written, perfectly acted, and some of the best movie lines ever. And the soundtrack? It is in my top five. (The Breakfast Club, Beverly Hills Cop, Lost Boys, and Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure make up the other four.)
All the gushing aside, there is a big problem. John Cusack hated the movie. He felt Savage Steve humiliated him, and the movie could have been much better. In an interview with costar Dan Schneider, he said:
“The next morning, he basically walked up to me and was like, ‘You know, you tricked me. Better Off Dead was the worst thing I have ever seen. I will never trust you as a director ever again, so don’t speak to me.’”
“It made me not care about movies anymore. And I didn’t even want to do One Crazy Summer at that point. I was just gone. It was sort of like the break-up that I made Better Off Dead about. It was so out of left field that it just floored me.”
https://web.archive.org/web/200602061...
I watched the movie for about the twentieth time last night and began thinking about John Cusack’s opinion. We have all done things we are not proud of, but it is unusual when others cherish those things we created. Typically, we do the opposite by convincing everybody that our awful creation is not that bad.
This kind of reaction has only happened once in my life. I developed a testing device that had many flaws. My company made 50 for production and field workers, but I felt the flaws could easily be corrected, so I built a better version. Clearly, the workers would throw away my abomination and lovingly take my new design into their hearts.
Of course, everybody liked the first design and refused to touch the improved one. I had to look away whenever I saw them using the first version. When I left the company, I asked if I could have one of the second versions, and it is now in a box in my attic. Yet, that is not the same. The equivalent would be writing a book I hated but everybody loved.
My reaction to this possibility is, “Well if I hated it so much, I would not have published it, stopped selling it, or released a second edition to correct the flaws.” John Cusack did not have that option, so this kind of situation is not the same. But let’s drive this train wreck a little further down the track.
Let’s say my books took off, and I signed with a mega-publisher. (Yes, it is more likely that Madona will knock on my door and offer to clean my house for free while humming Material Girl.) The publisher takes an early version of my next book, radically alters it, and makes it an instant hit. Because of the contract, I am powerless to stop them.
That is the closest life situation I can imagine that mirrors what John Cusack faced. So, how would I feel about it? I would be angry and tell all my fans not to read the book. Yet… I certainly would cash those fat checks. And there is the double-edged knife. Would I tell my fans not to buy my book? Are my morals that rock-solid? After all, they would be enjoying my words. And a fat check is a fat check. So, yeah, I can see myself brooding about the incident instead of making a sizeable public deal.
What would I say to a fan who wanted to discuss my book? “Sorry, it wasn’t my best?” But what would listening to endless compliments feel like? “Wow, your book is so fantastic.” Man, that double-edged knife digs in deep.
This thought experiment made me want to interview John Cusack, yet I understand that this topic upsets him. He is a creative person who takes pride in his accomplishments. Seeing that movie or hearing a comment probably feels like a bee sting. I certainly do not want that feeling. Yet, I loved the film.
So, what does that make me? It makes me confused. I want to respect John Cusack and enjoy the film simultaneously. It isn’t easy to merge the two feelings. When thinking about this, I saw two options. I can continue to praise the movie while knowing John is getting paid, or I can eliminate the film from my heart, knowing this secretly makes John happier. Yeah… Did I mention how much I enjoy the soundtrack?
You’re the best -Bill
April 09, 2025
All the gushing aside, there is a big problem. John Cusack hated the movie. He felt Savage Steve humiliated him, and the movie could have been much better. In an interview with costar Dan Schneider, he said:
“The next morning, he basically walked up to me and was like, ‘You know, you tricked me. Better Off Dead was the worst thing I have ever seen. I will never trust you as a director ever again, so don’t speak to me.’”
“It made me not care about movies anymore. And I didn’t even want to do One Crazy Summer at that point. I was just gone. It was sort of like the break-up that I made Better Off Dead about. It was so out of left field that it just floored me.”
https://web.archive.org/web/200602061...
I watched the movie for about the twentieth time last night and began thinking about John Cusack’s opinion. We have all done things we are not proud of, but it is unusual when others cherish those things we created. Typically, we do the opposite by convincing everybody that our awful creation is not that bad.
This kind of reaction has only happened once in my life. I developed a testing device that had many flaws. My company made 50 for production and field workers, but I felt the flaws could easily be corrected, so I built a better version. Clearly, the workers would throw away my abomination and lovingly take my new design into their hearts.
Of course, everybody liked the first design and refused to touch the improved one. I had to look away whenever I saw them using the first version. When I left the company, I asked if I could have one of the second versions, and it is now in a box in my attic. Yet, that is not the same. The equivalent would be writing a book I hated but everybody loved.
My reaction to this possibility is, “Well if I hated it so much, I would not have published it, stopped selling it, or released a second edition to correct the flaws.” John Cusack did not have that option, so this kind of situation is not the same. But let’s drive this train wreck a little further down the track.
Let’s say my books took off, and I signed with a mega-publisher. (Yes, it is more likely that Madona will knock on my door and offer to clean my house for free while humming Material Girl.) The publisher takes an early version of my next book, radically alters it, and makes it an instant hit. Because of the contract, I am powerless to stop them.
That is the closest life situation I can imagine that mirrors what John Cusack faced. So, how would I feel about it? I would be angry and tell all my fans not to read the book. Yet… I certainly would cash those fat checks. And there is the double-edged knife. Would I tell my fans not to buy my book? Are my morals that rock-solid? After all, they would be enjoying my words. And a fat check is a fat check. So, yeah, I can see myself brooding about the incident instead of making a sizeable public deal.
What would I say to a fan who wanted to discuss my book? “Sorry, it wasn’t my best?” But what would listening to endless compliments feel like? “Wow, your book is so fantastic.” Man, that double-edged knife digs in deep.
This thought experiment made me want to interview John Cusack, yet I understand that this topic upsets him. He is a creative person who takes pride in his accomplishments. Seeing that movie or hearing a comment probably feels like a bee sting. I certainly do not want that feeling. Yet, I loved the film.
So, what does that make me? It makes me confused. I want to respect John Cusack and enjoy the film simultaneously. It isn’t easy to merge the two feelings. When thinking about this, I saw two options. I can continue to praise the movie while knowing John is getting paid, or I can eliminate the film from my heart, knowing this secretly makes John happier. Yeah… Did I mention how much I enjoy the soundtrack?
You’re the best -Bill
April 09, 2025
Movie and Book Plots Are Different
I have been spending my Friday evenings hanging out with friends for the last 30 years. One of our favorite pastimes is to watch YouTube videos. The subject matter encompasses music, humor, crafting, technical lectures, computers, racing, and educational topics.
Last week, we watched a YouTube Pitch Meeting about the live-action Snow White movie. If you’ve never watched one of these videos, the host pretends to humorously tell himself (as if he were the movie studio) about the movie and why it would be a good idea to make it. IE, he is “pitching it.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0nSF...
One of the popular catchphrases in these Pitch Meetings is “super easy, barely an inconvenience.” The host uses this comical phrase to describe a scene where the characters easily overcome a significant obstacle. One example occurs when Snow White breaks the evil queen’s spell by saying the names and occupations of the townspeople.
This funny phrase got me thinking about the differences between a movie plot and a book plot. But first, what is a movie from a story perspective? A screenwriter creates a script to capture the plot, using a relatively small amount of dialogue to convey the story. The remaining details are visually conveyed.
A book contains a vast quantity of text and sometimes pictures. More text is required because something simple, like a car, needs a paragraph to be described accurately. The resulting book has substantially more details, but the movie provides a more visually appealing representation.
Yet, there is more to it. I contend that the story is different because of the limited movie format. Sure, the characters could spend ten minutes describing something, but moviegoers would be bored to tears as they sat through a five-hour movie.
Unfortunately, this limited format results in scenes that range from glossing over details to those that lack coherence. Typically, moviegoers ignore these issues and enjoy the film, but sometimes, the omissions are so glaring that the movie suffers.
I wanted to highlight a classic inconsistency that occurred in the Lord of The Rings trilogy. At the beginning of the first movie, the main characters ride large birds. Then, they spend days traveling by foot through harsh terrain while fighting off the enemy. So… Why not fly the whole way?
The author, J.R.R. Tolkien, provided a logical reason why it was not possible to fly, but this detail was omitted from the film. And the audience understands. “Hey, they glossed over that. No big deal.”
The reason behind this decision is that the audience did not need a boring bird explanation. Instead, they sought drama, action, large-scale battle scenes, epic music, attractive characters, computer-generated dragons, impressive weaponry, and over-the-top action. All in 4K with Dolby Digital sound! And the movies indeed delivered.
Books are vastly different. When I write, a big part of my thought process focuses on conveying exactly what is happening and why. Bad reviews confirm the difference. A moviegoer would complain about the lack of drama, slow pacing, and mild action. Yet, a reader would complain about a confusing plot, poor descriptions, lackluster characters, and missing details.
I spend hours at the outline stage to work out precisely how my plot will unfold. I never want to see logic problems, confusing characters, controversy, or poor flow. Then I spend months writing and even more time editing. Ultimately, my goal is to have every detail polished to perfection. Not one word out of place.
Thus, I would never allow one of my characters to use a silly method to break a spell. Instead, I would fully define all aspects of the spell. Then, the character would spend pages thinking of possible ways to break it, and only then would I allow them to try one of those methods. Of course, I would not allow their first attempt to work. Why? Trial and error often lead to great drama, and failures are frequently the most memorable moments.
While the two approaches may ultimately converge, the journey is different, and I have a final example to illustrate this. I have only laughed twice while reading a book, but I laugh all the time during movies.
You’re the best -Bill
June 19, 2025
Last week, we watched a YouTube Pitch Meeting about the live-action Snow White movie. If you’ve never watched one of these videos, the host pretends to humorously tell himself (as if he were the movie studio) about the movie and why it would be a good idea to make it. IE, he is “pitching it.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x0nSF...
One of the popular catchphrases in these Pitch Meetings is “super easy, barely an inconvenience.” The host uses this comical phrase to describe a scene where the characters easily overcome a significant obstacle. One example occurs when Snow White breaks the evil queen’s spell by saying the names and occupations of the townspeople.
This funny phrase got me thinking about the differences between a movie plot and a book plot. But first, what is a movie from a story perspective? A screenwriter creates a script to capture the plot, using a relatively small amount of dialogue to convey the story. The remaining details are visually conveyed.
A book contains a vast quantity of text and sometimes pictures. More text is required because something simple, like a car, needs a paragraph to be described accurately. The resulting book has substantially more details, but the movie provides a more visually appealing representation.
Yet, there is more to it. I contend that the story is different because of the limited movie format. Sure, the characters could spend ten minutes describing something, but moviegoers would be bored to tears as they sat through a five-hour movie.
Unfortunately, this limited format results in scenes that range from glossing over details to those that lack coherence. Typically, moviegoers ignore these issues and enjoy the film, but sometimes, the omissions are so glaring that the movie suffers.
I wanted to highlight a classic inconsistency that occurred in the Lord of The Rings trilogy. At the beginning of the first movie, the main characters ride large birds. Then, they spend days traveling by foot through harsh terrain while fighting off the enemy. So… Why not fly the whole way?
The author, J.R.R. Tolkien, provided a logical reason why it was not possible to fly, but this detail was omitted from the film. And the audience understands. “Hey, they glossed over that. No big deal.”
The reason behind this decision is that the audience did not need a boring bird explanation. Instead, they sought drama, action, large-scale battle scenes, epic music, attractive characters, computer-generated dragons, impressive weaponry, and over-the-top action. All in 4K with Dolby Digital sound! And the movies indeed delivered.
Books are vastly different. When I write, a big part of my thought process focuses on conveying exactly what is happening and why. Bad reviews confirm the difference. A moviegoer would complain about the lack of drama, slow pacing, and mild action. Yet, a reader would complain about a confusing plot, poor descriptions, lackluster characters, and missing details.
I spend hours at the outline stage to work out precisely how my plot will unfold. I never want to see logic problems, confusing characters, controversy, or poor flow. Then I spend months writing and even more time editing. Ultimately, my goal is to have every detail polished to perfection. Not one word out of place.
Thus, I would never allow one of my characters to use a silly method to break a spell. Instead, I would fully define all aspects of the spell. Then, the character would spend pages thinking of possible ways to break it, and only then would I allow them to try one of those methods. Of course, I would not allow their first attempt to work. Why? Trial and error often lead to great drama, and failures are frequently the most memorable moments.
While the two approaches may ultimately converge, the journey is different, and I have a final example to illustrate this. I have only laughed twice while reading a book, but I laugh all the time during movies.
You’re the best -Bill
June 19, 2025
