Bus/Movie Report: "Story" and "Juno"
So, not all that long ago I read the book "Story" by Robert McKee, which is a book about screenwriting, and last Monday I saw "Juno", which is a movie. Both were good, and I found myself thinking about "Juno" in terms of "Story", so I'm going to talk about both of them.
So, I'm not actually a screenwriter, nor do I really write fiction at all, but I do roleplay and I did a lot of improv when I lived in Houston, so I'm all about the spontaneous narratives. Most of what "Story" (full title: "Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting") has to say is really about the well-crafted narrative, but I think if you internalize some of the principles here, it could improve your spontaneous storytelling.
One of the main things I got out of reading the book was the pattern of the protagonist struggling to reach their goal. His hypothesis is that the protagonist should start by performing some action they expect will lead them to some desired goal. But the world turns out to differ from their expectations, and they fall short. So they gather themselves together, re-assess their surrounding, and try again...only to find they once again were wrong, and the ground slips from under their feet. This may happen several times, until finally they make one last attempt, and here most movies let them succeed, but it's not required. And there are many different ways to implement this pattern, from actual straightforward failure to achieving one's nominal goals (money) only to find that one's deeper goals weren't accomplished (happiness) to changing one's mind about what goals you want, to how you divvy up your time in the movie on the different phases. It's not really much of a constraint, it's a way to view almost all stories, and a way to think about your own so you can focus on the important bits.
One of the other things that stuck with me from the book was his claim about the importance of subtext. If you have a character say something and mean exactly what they're saying, the scene will probably fall flat. And good actors will probably invent their own subtext if you don't provide them with one, or the director will, or something. What you need to have for the scene to come alive is for the character's lines to say one thing ("I love you"), but for there to be an additional layer of unspoken meaning that the audience works out for themselves from context or subtle cues from the scene. The unspoken meaning might contradict what's being said ('I'm only saying this so you'll shut up'), or it might reinforce it ('And I'll kill anyone who comes between us'). It might be completely tangential ('I'm worried about our son'). But the important thing is that you're communicating to the audience on two levels. (There was an interesting bit here about division of labor--as a screenwriter, you don't actually write out all the subtext in a scene, you just imply it. It's the job of the director to specify things like camera angles that draw out the drama of the scene, and it's the job of the actor to specify things like tone of voice and the particulars (if only in their head) about what the subtext of their lines is.)
And it's here that we'll shift to 'Juno', because 'Juno' had a *lot* of subtext. Brief synopsis: Juno, a 16-year-old, gets pregnant, and decides to give the kid up for adoption. One of the first things most reviews mention about it is the witty banter, which many like, but some find annoyingly unrealistic. (I went in expecting high-level wit but actually found that it seemed intelligent, yes, but pretty normal on the whole. This doesn't necessarily mean that I and my friends and family actually talk like this, but it does mean that I *think* we talk like this.) One of the next things the more insightful reviews mention is that for Juno, the witty banter is a cover for a teenager who's not as hip and as in control as she likes to project. The burden of conveying a character like that falls mostly on the actor, and this is why she got a 'Best Actress' nomination. So one of the main linchpins of the performance and what everybody raves about is exactly what McKee said was important: the contrast between what's said and what's unsaid, the text and the subtext.
And absolutely everyone gets moments like this. The first conversation between the potential adoptive couple (Vanessa and Mark), their lawyer, and Juno and her dad, is just dripping with the stuff.
Juno: "So, what about you, Mark? You ready to be a dad?"
Mark: (beat) "Oh, yeah! What guy doesn't want to work on the science project with their kid? The volcano? (volcano sound effects)"
Me: "Mark, you are such a liar. You are either lying to everyone else, or lying to yourself, or both. Guess I'll find out which later."
Or when Vanessa says, ever so carefully:
Vanessa: "We will, of course, pay for any medical expenses you may have during your pregnancy. Do you require any other form of compensation?"
Subtext: "Here is where we talk about doing something blatantly illegal. And our lawyer's right here, and has obviously discussed this with us beforehand. We're desperate, and if it means we get a child at the end of it, we're willing to do anything."
Or when Juno complains about the difficulties of being pregnant, and says to Vanessa, "Just be glad it isn't you," and Vanessa smiles. There's the obvious, "Kid, are you paying any attention at all? Of *course* I wish it was me," but then also the, "I'm not going to say something rude. I'm not going to say something rude," and "Sigh, poor kid. She just doesn't get it. But I kinda like her anyway."
Another example, this one more a writer/director type of visually-induced subtext. At the beginning of the movie, Juno is telling us in a voice-over that her parents were divorced when she was 5, she lives with her dad, and "For some reason, my mom sends me a cactus every Valentine's day." And she makes some sarcastic comment that I wish I could remember, but is something like, "Because nothing says 'I love you' like a plant you can't touch because of the spines." But in the meantime, the camera has panned to a windowbox in Juno's room that is entirely filled with cacti. And we realize that regardless of the appropriateness of the gifts, they're still her connection to her mother. And they *do* mean 'I love you'. Or at least Juno hopes they do.
All the characters get this kind of careful treatment, even the ones that we only see in a single scene. Juno's dad, (played by J.K. Simmons, who also plays J. Jonah Jamison in the Spiderman movies), just about steals the show ("Hi, I'm Mr. MacGuff, and this is my irresponsible daughter," he tells Vanessa). The best friend/father of the kid who's the quiet geeky intelligent type. The stepmother who shatters fairy tale stereotypes by simply being a no-nonsense mom. Juno's classmate Su-Chin, who we find protesting outside the women's clinic, then awkwardly breaking off as she recognizes Juno. Just dear, dear characters all around. It seems to me I've been more sensitive to this kind of thing ever since I became a dad (you'd think it would wear off, but nooooo), but I swear my eyes were teary through just about the entire film just from the sheer sweetness of it all.
If I have one problem with the film, it's one of realism: Paulie, the kid's father, is left out of the adoption proceedings entirely, and frankly, this is simply impossible. I understand why he was left out of that side of the film (it would have complicated things too much to have him interacting directly with Vanessa and Mark, I think), but *some* sort of nod to the fact that you can't actually give your kid up for adoption without the father's consent (or without lying and saying you don't know the father) would have been nice. This might have been true once, but is definitely not true today.
The upshot; Juno: recommended, if you like things that are intelligent and sweet. Story: highly recommended if you're a screenwriter (which you're probably not), somewhat recommended if you're a roleplayer (which given my friend's list, you may well be), but mostly recommended for insight into how films work. I would have liked Juno just the same without having read 'Story', but I appreciated it a lot more because of the book.
So, I'm not actually a screenwriter, nor do I really write fiction at all, but I do roleplay and I did a lot of improv when I lived in Houston, so I'm all about the spontaneous narratives. Most of what "Story" (full title: "Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting") has to say is really about the well-crafted narrative, but I think if you internalize some of the principles here, it could improve your spontaneous storytelling.
One of the main things I got out of reading the book was the pattern of the protagonist struggling to reach their goal. His hypothesis is that the protagonist should start by performing some action they expect will lead them to some desired goal. But the world turns out to differ from their expectations, and they fall short. So they gather themselves together, re-assess their surrounding, and try again...only to find they once again were wrong, and the ground slips from under their feet. This may happen several times, until finally they make one last attempt, and here most movies let them succeed, but it's not required. And there are many different ways to implement this pattern, from actual straightforward failure to achieving one's nominal goals (money) only to find that one's deeper goals weren't accomplished (happiness) to changing one's mind about what goals you want, to how you divvy up your time in the movie on the different phases. It's not really much of a constraint, it's a way to view almost all stories, and a way to think about your own so you can focus on the important bits.
One of the other things that stuck with me from the book was his claim about the importance of subtext. If you have a character say something and mean exactly what they're saying, the scene will probably fall flat. And good actors will probably invent their own subtext if you don't provide them with one, or the director will, or something. What you need to have for the scene to come alive is for the character's lines to say one thing ("I love you"), but for there to be an additional layer of unspoken meaning that the audience works out for themselves from context or subtle cues from the scene. The unspoken meaning might contradict what's being said ('I'm only saying this so you'll shut up'), or it might reinforce it ('And I'll kill anyone who comes between us'). It might be completely tangential ('I'm worried about our son'). But the important thing is that you're communicating to the audience on two levels. (There was an interesting bit here about division of labor--as a screenwriter, you don't actually write out all the subtext in a scene, you just imply it. It's the job of the director to specify things like camera angles that draw out the drama of the scene, and it's the job of the actor to specify things like tone of voice and the particulars (if only in their head) about what the subtext of their lines is.)
And it's here that we'll shift to 'Juno', because 'Juno' had a *lot* of subtext. Brief synopsis: Juno, a 16-year-old, gets pregnant, and decides to give the kid up for adoption. One of the first things most reviews mention about it is the witty banter, which many like, but some find annoyingly unrealistic. (I went in expecting high-level wit but actually found that it seemed intelligent, yes, but pretty normal on the whole. This doesn't necessarily mean that I and my friends and family actually talk like this, but it does mean that I *think* we talk like this.) One of the next things the more insightful reviews mention is that for Juno, the witty banter is a cover for a teenager who's not as hip and as in control as she likes to project. The burden of conveying a character like that falls mostly on the actor, and this is why she got a 'Best Actress' nomination. So one of the main linchpins of the performance and what everybody raves about is exactly what McKee said was important: the contrast between what's said and what's unsaid, the text and the subtext.
And absolutely everyone gets moments like this. The first conversation between the potential adoptive couple (Vanessa and Mark), their lawyer, and Juno and her dad, is just dripping with the stuff.
Juno: "So, what about you, Mark? You ready to be a dad?"
Mark: (beat) "Oh, yeah! What guy doesn't want to work on the science project with their kid? The volcano? (volcano sound effects)"
Me: "Mark, you are such a liar. You are either lying to everyone else, or lying to yourself, or both. Guess I'll find out which later."
Or when Vanessa says, ever so carefully:
Vanessa: "We will, of course, pay for any medical expenses you may have during your pregnancy. Do you require any other form of compensation?"
Subtext: "Here is where we talk about doing something blatantly illegal. And our lawyer's right here, and has obviously discussed this with us beforehand. We're desperate, and if it means we get a child at the end of it, we're willing to do anything."
Or when Juno complains about the difficulties of being pregnant, and says to Vanessa, "Just be glad it isn't you," and Vanessa smiles. There's the obvious, "Kid, are you paying any attention at all? Of *course* I wish it was me," but then also the, "I'm not going to say something rude. I'm not going to say something rude," and "Sigh, poor kid. She just doesn't get it. But I kinda like her anyway."
Another example, this one more a writer/director type of visually-induced subtext. At the beginning of the movie, Juno is telling us in a voice-over that her parents were divorced when she was 5, she lives with her dad, and "For some reason, my mom sends me a cactus every Valentine's day." And she makes some sarcastic comment that I wish I could remember, but is something like, "Because nothing says 'I love you' like a plant you can't touch because of the spines." But in the meantime, the camera has panned to a windowbox in Juno's room that is entirely filled with cacti. And we realize that regardless of the appropriateness of the gifts, they're still her connection to her mother. And they *do* mean 'I love you'. Or at least Juno hopes they do.
All the characters get this kind of careful treatment, even the ones that we only see in a single scene. Juno's dad, (played by J.K. Simmons, who also plays J. Jonah Jamison in the Spiderman movies), just about steals the show ("Hi, I'm Mr. MacGuff, and this is my irresponsible daughter," he tells Vanessa). The best friend/father of the kid who's the quiet geeky intelligent type. The stepmother who shatters fairy tale stereotypes by simply being a no-nonsense mom. Juno's classmate Su-Chin, who we find protesting outside the women's clinic, then awkwardly breaking off as she recognizes Juno. Just dear, dear characters all around. It seems to me I've been more sensitive to this kind of thing ever since I became a dad (you'd think it would wear off, but nooooo), but I swear my eyes were teary through just about the entire film just from the sheer sweetness of it all.
If I have one problem with the film, it's one of realism: Paulie, the kid's father, is left out of the adoption proceedings entirely, and frankly, this is simply impossible. I understand why he was left out of that side of the film (it would have complicated things too much to have him interacting directly with Vanessa and Mark, I think), but *some* sort of nod to the fact that you can't actually give your kid up for adoption without the father's consent (or without lying and saying you don't know the father) would have been nice. This might have been true once, but is definitely not true today.
The upshot; Juno: recommended, if you like things that are intelligent and sweet. Story: highly recommended if you're a screenwriter (which you're probably not), somewhat recommended if you're a roleplayer (which given my friend's list, you may well be), but mostly recommended for insight into how films work. I would have liked Juno just the same without having read 'Story', but I appreciated it a lot more because of the book.