He’s a drunk, a liar and a loser. When we first meet him, he realizes he’s late, calls someone and says, “I’m out the door right now,” then sits idly reading on the toilet. Then he does the New York Times crossword as he drives down the highway! When he finally arrives, he lies about the freeway being bumper to bumper. Then he drinks wine with Jack while driving. Then we get to the big one: He stops by his lonely mother’s house just to steal her cash, then sneaks away before the brunch she planned!
Connect:
Okay guys, this has been brewing in the comments for a while, but I think it’s time to deal with it: There’s often a difference between Believe (the old version) and Connect (the new version), and I think they’re both valuable. The reasons we believe in Miles and the reasons we connect with him are different. Why do we believe in him? Well, for many of the reasons listed above. That wealth of despicable behavior creates a compelling and believable portrait of a pathetic person. (Boldly pathetic in some ways, which is oddly endearing.)
But it feels odd to say that any of these are reasons to connect with him. We don’t connect with these horrible traits.
There are some things he does that are less horrible that do make us connect. When he goes in to see his mother and signs the card and seals the envelope on his knee while he’s approaching the door, I thought, “Ah, I’ve done that, I connect with that.”
Care
Jack’s new father-in-law congratulates Miles on publishing his novel when he hasn’t actually sold it, then says: “I like non-fiction. You read something someone just invented? Waste of time.”
At his mom’s house, Miles is heartbroken to see that she still has a picture of him on his wedding day to his ex-wife. His mom then tells him: “You should get back together with Victoria. She was good for you. And so beautiful and so intelligent. I’m worried about you, Miles, you need somebody.” Jack tells him the next morning: “You have been officially depressed for two years now. You still seeing that shrink?” Miles replies, “I saw him on Monday. I spent most of the time helping him with his computer.”
He gives Jack an expert wine tasting lesson, then realizes Jack’s been chewing gum the whole time. We share Miles’s exasperation.
Commit:
We envy (and somewhat pity) his wine expertise. “I like all varietals, I just don’t generally like the way they manipulate Chardonnay in California, too much oak and secondary melolactic fermentation.”
I think the #1 thing that makes us like Miles is when he’s sniffing the wine and holds his hand up to his ear so he can smell it better. It’s so absurd that it’s endearing.
Miles has a somewhat healthier attitude towards hook-ups than Jack does: “It’s not worth it. You pay too big a price. It’s never free.” This causes us to commit to him, not Jack.
Five Es
Eat: He eats and drinks a ton.
Exercise: Not at all.
Economic Activity: No, we don’t even know he’s a teacher until later. I suppose stealing from his mom counts as economic activity?
Enjoy: He enjoys wine more than we’ve ever seen anyone enjoy wine before.
Emulate: Not that I can see.
Rise above
Well, he ditches out on his life for a week to go on vacation, but it’s not clear he had any way he would have been making money (He presumably has the summer off from teaching?)
Sideways is one of those movies that writers might cite when insisting that they don’t need to create “sympathetic protagonists.” Miles does a lot of truly loathsome stuff, over and above being an angry drunk: he steals the money for the trip from his not-well-off mom, he reads “Barely Legal” porn, and Jack mentions in passing that Miles actually cheated on that ex-wife he’s been pining for all movie!
(And let’s face it, a handsome Clooney-ish rakishly-handsome guy might be able to pull some of this stuff off, but Miles is very... Giamatti-ish. That makes misbehavior a lot less charming onscreen.)
So does this prove that heroes can just be a big bag of flaws, with no mitigating strengths? No, it doesn’t. On first glance, it’s easy to spot Miles’s flaws and hard to find any strengths, but they’re there, and they’re not inconsiderable. I would say that Miles’s biggest flaw is that he’s hostile. Is there a flip-side of that? There certainly is: Miles is passionate. And that passion is attractive.
The most obvious example is the double-date scene. Jack is capable of picking up a wine merchant in ten minutes flat, which Miles could never pull off, but as soon as the actual date begins, everything flips: Jack is stuck asking Stephanie about what her routine is when she closes up the vineyard, while Miles is instantly able to fully engage with Maya because of their shared passion for wine and his smart opinions on the topic. Of course, he gets too drunk and almost botches it, but that great start ultimately sustains him throughout.
And once you see it, you realize that Miles’s conversational skills are actually everywhere in the movie. One example: When Miles shows up late and hungover to pick up Jack from his in-laws, they’re all glad to see him and get his opinion on which wedding cake they should get.
Later, Miles is stuck spending an afternoon at a bowling alley with Jack, his fling, her kid and her mom. We know that this is excruciating for him, but at the end, we hear the mom say “It was really great to meet you, Miles,” and we believe it.
I myself have some of the same flaws and strengths as Miles. I mentioned before that I had an unusual friendship with an aging millionaire named Lewis King, even though we clearly had little in common. Why? One time he joked he’d invited me along to a lunch because, “It’s always good to have a content provider.” Miles and I have a lot of flaws, but, for better or for worse, we’re both content providers, and that can get you pretty far in this world. For Miles, that’s the one great strength that saves him from his horribleness. It’s the flip side to more than one of his great flaws.
Okay, guys, I’ve finally gotten sick of my phrase “OMFG scene”. I always wanted to call it the “Oh Shit” scene, but I wanted the checklist to be acceptable at schools, so I wussed out. PLEASE feel free to suggest a clean version with the same impact in the comments! UPDATE: I settled on “Holy Crap!”, as you can see.
Alexander Payne somehow keeps making the kind of movies they don’t make anymore: low-concept, quiet, gentle, melancholy, and compassionate towards their middle-aged heroes (Moreso with each movie. Nebraska almost has a stand-up-and-cheer ending!).
Obviously, the biggest problem this causes is one of marketing. Are these comedies or dramas? Oscar movies or date-night movies? Are they supposed to be for “serious moviegoers” or for everybody? Payne, for the most part, isn’t answering those questions, forcing his marketers to answer them…but there are little things he can do to make their job easier.
I enjoyed The Descendants and Nebraska, but not as much Sideways (or Election). One issue I had with them is that their genre is indistinct, it’s hard to know how to feel about them. By contrast, I would say that Sideways benefits greatly by being clearly a comedy.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s still got a lot of with heartbreaking, mirthless scenes, and very few out-loud laughs. But it does have a lot of jokes like these:
Miles wakes up late, calls to apologize, and says he’ll be right there, then we cut to him casually reading on the toilet.
Jack lies about reading Miles’s novel, Miles asks him what he thought of the new ending, and catches Jack lying about it…that’s a fairly obvious joke, but then Miles nails Jack by saying “Everything after page 750 is exactly the same,” which actually makes the joke on him.
On his way into his mom’s house, Miles fills out a birthday card, using his leg as a writing surface.
Miles holds his ear to smell the wine better.
A pay-off to the earlier joke: Miles gives Maya a huge box of paper containing his manuscript, she winces, then he gives her another box.
Miles asks a drugstore clerk for a copy of “Barely Legal”, and the clerk grabs one of two issues on the stand, but Miles mildly says “No, the new one.”
The problem, of course, is that these are all “blink and you’ll miss them” jokes. Part of the fun is that not everyone in the theater is laughing…you get to feel clever for appreciating it.
Payne excels at these moments in all of his movies, but these moments can only take us so far. We find them funny, but we aren’t sure that we have permission to laugh at them…unless we get the one or two huge laughs that tell us “Yes, this is definitely supposed to be a comedy. This is all funny. Laugh.” That’s the value of this movie’s two “Oh Shit” scenes: Miles drinking the wine spit bucket, and Miles stealing the wallet from the couple having enthusiastic post-cuckold-sex.
For those two scenes, the gentleness (and, one might argue, the realism) is shattered and the viewer feels liberated: we’re shocked out of our happy mellow and woken up, finally getting to enjoy a gut-busting laugh with the whole theater, creating a moment of communal joy and bonding.
And part of that joy is that we now know: “This is a scene that I can tell my friends about in order to get them to see this movie.” What if these scenes hadn’t been there? You’d have to say “He holds his ear to smell wine!”, and they wouldn’t get the big deal.
Miles, a miserable would-be novelist, takes his sex-addict best friend Jack for a weeklong trip in California wine country to celebrate Jack’s impending marriage. Jack announces that he intends to get them both laid, and he quickly hits it off with a wine clerk, Steph, then sets up Miles up with her friend Maya. Soon, Miles is in love, but he loses Maya when she finds that Jack has hidden his engagement from Steph. Miles finally accepts his miserable lot in life...just in time to get a hopeful call from Maya.
PART
#1: CONCEPT 15/19
The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who
hears about it?
Is the
one sentence description uniquely appealing?
No. The logline sounds very unappealing. (Two miserable
middle-aged men romantically pursue two divorcees during a week-long trip to
wine country.)This was sold
largely on the writer-director’s reputation. We knew we could trust Payne,
and he knew we trusted him and would let him make a low-concept movie.
Does
the concept contain an intriguing ironic contradiction?
Not really for Miles, but yes for Jack, a man
looking for love on the eve of his wedding.
Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto
a bigger canvas, with higher stakes?
Very identifiable, but not really bigger, except for the
two “Holy Crap” moments.
Story Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a
strong story?
Is the
concept simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?
Very much so.
Is
there one character that the audience will choose to be their “hero”?
Miles.
Does
the story follow the progress of the hero’s problem, not the hero’s daily
life?
It breezes through seven days of
story, which is more than most movies
Does
the story present a unique relationship?
A divorced middle-age man and his
middle-aged best friend who is getting married for the first time.
Is at
least one actual human being opposed to what the hero is doing?
Jack is opposed to Miles’ idea of not
meeting someone, then opposed to Miles’ need to confess, Maya and Steph are
opposed to his lying.
Does
this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or
an ironic answer to the hero’s question?
It’s his greatest fear (losing his ex
and his hopes of publication)
Does
something inside the hero have a particularly volatile reaction to the
challenge?
Yes.
Does
this challenge become something that is the not just hard for the hero to do (an obstacle) but hard for the hero
to want to do (a conflict)?
He’s still in love with his ex-wife
and the idea of himself as a novelist.
In the
end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
No. He chooses to wait for Maya to
reach out to him, but it’s clear that she does so because of his efforts: his
call confessing all, and the quality of his novel.
Does
the hero permanently transform the situation and vice versa?
Transform situation: He doesn’t really
change Jack, but he changes Maya. Transform self: Yes, he has huge
breakthroughs
The
Hook: Will this be marketable and generate word of mouth?
Does
the story satisfy the basic human urges that get people to buy and recommend
this genre?
Not really. It has little of the usual
joys of the manchild-driven comedy (T&A, turning tables on snobs, etc.).
Does
this story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be
used to promote the final product)?
Vineyards, noses in wine glasses.
Is
there at least one “Holy Crap!” scene (to create word of mouth)?
Drinking the spit bucket, interrupting
the post-cuckold sex
Does
the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
Not really. It’s pretty obvious that
the truth is going to come out.
Is the
story marketable without revealing the surprise?
NA
Is the
conflict compelling and ironic both before and after the surprise?
NA
PART
#2: CHARACTER 21/22
Believe:
Do we recognize the hero as a human being?
Does
the hero have a moment of humanity early on? (A funny, or kind, or oddball,
or out-of-character, or comically vain, or unique-but-universal “I thought I
was the only one who did that!” moment?)
Hmm…I think we need a new category:
the moment of chutzpah. We admire his careless contempt for the people
calling him to show up the party.
Is the
hero defined by ongoing actions and attitudes, not by backstory?
He’s focused on his past, but we’re
not. We see that it’s his action and attitudes that are the problem, not the
past.
Does
the hero have a well-defined public identity?
The lovable sad-sack novelist
Does
the surface characterization ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?
He actually knows that he’s not good
enough to be a writer, and he’s hiding a lot of darkness and bitterness.
Does
the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job,
background, or developmental state)?
Metaphors themselves: “At my age, if
you don’t have any money, you’re just a pasture animal waiting for the
abbatoir” “I’m a thumbprint on a skyscraper.” Also wine: “This whole week has
gone sour.”
Does
the hero have a default personality trait?
Negativity.
Does
the hero have a default argument tactic?
Traps people. / emotional blackmail
“Did you like the new ending?” “Yes.” “Everything after page 750 is exactly
the same.” / “Just wanted to let you know I’m not coming to the wedding.”
Is the
hero’s primary motivation for tackling this challenge strong, simple, and
revealed early on?
Have a fun drunken week.
Care:
Do we feel for the hero?
Does
the hero start out with a shortsighted or wrongheaded philosophy (or accept a
false piece of advice early on)?
“[Dating is] not worth it, you pay too
high a price.”
Does
the hero have a false or shortsighted goal in the first half?
Give his friend a great last week of
freedom.
Does
the hero have an open fear or anxiety about his or her future, as well as a
hidden, private fear?
Open: His novel won’t get published. Hidden: His novel isn’t any good.
Is the
hero physically and emotionally vulnerable?
Moreso emotionally, but both.
Does
the hero have at least one untenable great flaw we empathize with? (but…)
Many: he’s a morose, duplicitous,
unfaithful, hostile, and an alcoholic who steals from his mom.
Invest:
Can we trust the hero to tackle this challenge?
…Is that great flaw (ironically) the natural
flip-side of a great strength we admire?
Yes, though it’s not immediately
obvious. He’s a great conversationalist, when he puts his mind to it (even
when he’s forced to spend the evening with his friend’s girlfriend’s mother,
she says “It was really great talking with you!”)He’s also a good writer, and therefore a good observer of
people.
Is the
hero curious?
He figures a lot of stuff out.
Is the
hero generally resourceful?
He steals money, manipulates
people, steals extra wine, etc.
Does
the hero have rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?
“I AM NOT DRINKING MERLOT!” I’m too
good for this (job/girl/situation), etc.
Is the
hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?
They all seem dopey in contrast to his
cynicism.
…And
is the hero willing to let them know that, subtly or directly?
He has a withering, sharp wit.
Is the
hero already doing something active when we first meet him or her?
No. He shows up late. He’s a lazy guy.
Does
the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
Although he’s powerless to stop Jack
from getting anything he wants.
Does
the hero use pre-established special skills from his or her past to solve
problems (rather than doing what anybody would do)?
He wins Maya over with his wine
knowledge and his novel.
PART
#3: STRUCTURE (If the story is about the solving of a large problem) 17/21
1st
Quarter: Is the challenge laid out in the first quarter?
When
the story begins, is the hero becoming increasingly irritated about his or
her longstanding social problem (while still in denial about an internal
flaw)?
He’s tired of being a depressed drunk.
Does
this problem become undeniable due to a social humiliation at the beginning
of the story?
He has to move his sloppily parked
car, oversleeps for friend’s party.
Does
the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem?
His friend promises to get him laid.
Does
the hero hesitate until the stakes are raised?
He refuses, insists that Maya is
married.
Does the hero commit to pursuing the opportunity by the
end of the first quarter?
…but just barely. At minutes 32 of a
127 minute movie, he reluctantly accepts an arranged date with Maya.
2nd
Quarter: Does the hero try the easy way in the second quarter?
Does
the hero’s pursuit of the opportunity quickly lead to an unforeseen conflict
with another person?
Jack, who wants him to drink Merlot,
and insists he be fun, but tells him right beforehand that his ex got
remarried
Does
the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?
He gets blind-drunk for most of the
date.
Does
the hero have a little fun and get excited about the possibility of success?
Not at this point, but it happens in
the first and third quarter, with lots of beautiful driving and drinking
montages.
Does the
easy way lead to a big crash around the midpoint, resulting in the loss of a
safe space and/or sheltering relationship?
A mild one: He responds too late when
she makes a pass, and convinces himself that he’s blown it. Worse, Jack and
Steph hit it off, seeming to ruin the rest of the trip. Jack disappears, the
motel room and restaurant are miserable alone.
3rd
Quarter: Does the hero try the hard way in the third quarter?
Does
the hero try the hard way from this point on?
Eventually. He finally goes to the
restaurant to ask about her, but misses her, but she reaches out to him the
next day.
Does
the hero find out who his or her real friends and real enemies are?
Realizes he should have been loyal to
Maya, not Jack.
Do the
stakes, pace, and motivation all escalate at this point?
He and Maya have sex, possibly fall in
love…
Does
the hero learn from mistakes in a painful way?
Maya realizes that Jack is getting
married, and dumps Miles.
Does a
further setback lead to a spiritual crisis?
He finds out his novel isn’t getting
published, and he admits that he’s not going to make it as a novelist, isn’t
a good person.
4th
Quarter: Does the challenge climax in the fourth quarter?
Does
the hero adopt a corrected philosophy after the spiritual crisis?
Before, actually: “This has been a big
deal for me.” In this case, the further hardships cause him to regress, not
progress, but the progress he’s already made finally pays off much later.
After
that crisis, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal, which
still seems far away?
No. He recommits to the false
goal of making Jack happy, even retrieving his wedding rings after his
adultery.
Before
the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has your hero
switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?
Sort of. He never becomes
proactive. Maya has to finally reach out to him, and it takes a huge effort
just to be reactive, and drive to see her. BUT, they’ve set up a situation in
which one of his big problems is drunk-dialing, so, ironically, it seems
somewhat heroic that he doesn’t
reach out to her, and waits for her to call.
Despite
these proactive steps, is the timeline unexpectedly moved up, forcing the
hero to improvise for the finale?
No, even when she calls, she leaves a
message telling him to call back anytime.
Do all
strands of the story and most of the characters come together for the
climactic confrontation?
No. Miles and his ex run into each
other at Jack’s wedding, but Maya and Steph aren’t there.
Does
the hero’s inner struggle climax shortly after (or possible at the same time
as) his or her outer struggle?
After.
Is
there an epilogue/ aftermath/ denouement in which the challenge is finally
resolved (or succumbed to), and we see how much the hero has changed
(possibly through reversible behavior)
He drives north and knocks on her
door. There’s no reversible behavior…they could have ended with him drinking
merlot to show he’s changed, but that would have been too on the nose (no pun
intended.)
Are the
characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?
Miles doesn’t say Jack shouldn’t
cheat, he just says to check his messages.
Do
characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct
confrontation?
Tells him to check his messages.
Is
there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners
(often resulting in just one touch)?
Jack taps Miles on the chest,
signaling that he’s about to lie, then taps him on the chest again later to
confirm his mastery.
Are
objects given or taken, representing larger values?
Jack gives Miles money to pay for golf
as a way of paying him off abandoning him, then demands the condom back.
The
Outcome: Does this scene change the story going forward?
As a
result of this scene, does at least one of the scene partners end up doing
something that he or she didn’t intend to do when the scene began?
Miles gives up his condom, Jack checks
his messages.
Does
the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the
original intention?
Not really. Jack gets what he wanted
unironically, Miles’s “check your messages” ploy fails, but it’s not ironic,
it’s just bad luck.
Are
previously-asked questions answered and new questions posed?
Previously asked: Yes, about Steph.
New questions: Not really.
Does
the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by
the circumstances of the next scene)?
No, it goes to the end.
Is the
audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next?
(Not just in the next scene, but generally)
Not really. Miles is stuck in a holding pattern
and we don’t feel much hope for it getting better or fear of it getting
worse.
PART
#5: DIALOGUE 15/16
Empathetic:
Is the dialogue true to human nature?
Does
the writing demonstrate empathy for all of the characters?
Very much so.
Does
each of the characters, including the hero, have a limited perspective?
Very much so. The audience understands
everybody much better than they do themselves.
Do the
characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather
than the wants of others?
Mostly. Maya is a little too dedicated
to reaching out to this unattractive and unappealing guy, but at least she
maintains her wariness and self-respect the whole time.
Are
the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and
even to themselves)?
Very much so.
Do the
characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say and doing things they
wouldn’t do?
Jack and Miles avoid confronting each
other artfully.
Do the
characters interrupt each other often?
Very much so.
Specific: Is the dialogue specific to this world
and each personality?
Does
the dialogue capture the jargon and tradecraft of the profession and/or
setting?
Yes, of
the vineyards.
Are
there additional characters with distinct metaphor families, default
personality traits, and default argument strategies from the hero’s?
Metaphor family: Jack: frat, Steph: sex, Default
personality trait: Jack: optimism, sociopathy, Argument strategy: Jack: not
listening to objections, hiding unpleasant info until the last second.
Heightened:
Is the dialogue more pointed and dynamic than real talk?
Is the
dialogue more concise than real talk?
Yes.
Does
the dialogue have more personality than real talk?
“Never had the wallet for that” rather
than money, for instance.
Are
there minimal commas in the dialogue (the lines are not prefaced with Yes,
No, Well, Look, or the other character’s name)?
Yes.
Do
non-professor characters speak without dependent clauses, conditionals, or
parallel construction?
Even the novelist / teacher avoids
such language.
Are
the non-3-dimensional characters impartially polarized into head, heart and
gut?
Jack and Miles are 2-way polarized:
careful pessimism vs. reckless optimism.
Strategic: Are certain dialogue scenes withheld
until necessary?
Does
the hero have at least one big “I understand you” moment with a love interest
or primary emotional partner?
Yes, a
few.
Is
exposition withheld until the hero and the audience are both demanding to
know it?
Info about the marriage and the women
leaks out slowly.
Is
there one gutpunch scene, where the subtext falls away and the characters
really lay into each other?
Miles has one as Maya is dumping him,
and Jack has one after the ostrich attack.
PART
#6: TONE 10/10
Genre:
Does the story tap into pre-established expectations?
Is the
story limited to one genre (or multiple genres that are merged from the
beginning?)
Combines male-bonding comedy /
romantic drama, which is a somewhat awkward combination, but it’s maintained
and it works.
Is the
story limited to sub-genres that are compatible with each other, without
mixing metaphors?
Also somewhat awkwardly: the bachelor
party movie / the food-porn movie (wine-porn in this version)
Does
the ending satisfy most of the expectations of the genre, and defy a few
others?
He ends up with the girl, but he
doesn’t have to change in order to do it.
Separate
from the genre, is a consistent mood (goofy, grim, ‘fairy tale’, etc.)
established early and maintained throughout?
When he apologizes for oversleeping
and promises he’s out the door, then we cut to him reading on the toilet
reading, which gets the first of many mordant chuckles from us, then we see
him doing the crossword while driving! The audience freaks out, but the
camera doesn’t.
Framing:
Does the story set, reset, upset and ultimately exceed its own expectations?
Is
there a dramatic question posed early on, which will establish in the
audience’s mind which moment will mark the end of the story?
The wedding is coming up, they talk
about when he’ll drink the 1961 wine, and Jack pledges to hook Miles up.
Does the story use framing devices to establish
genre, mood and expectations?
Just slightly: We start with a title
card saying “SUNDAY”, then they announce a weeklong trip and we get “MONDAY”,
letting us know the shape of the movie.
Are
there characters whose situations prefigure various fates that might await
the hero?
He fears he can’t pursue love without
becoming Jack.
Does
foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s
attention on what’s important)?
Lots of times the wedding almost comes
up. Early shot of him doing crossword while driving establishes that he
values doing the crossword over his own safety, so this sets up the fact that
he accidentally confesses the wedding to her while doing the crossword. This
would seem too careless if his carelessness had not bee well established.
Are
reversible behaviors used to foreshadow and then confirm change?
He finally finds the courage to not
call.
Is the
dramatic question answered at the very end of the story?
We get the wedding, drinking the wine
and hooking up one after another, the end.
PART
7: THEME 14/14
Difficult:
Is the meaning of the story derived from a fundamental moral dilemma?
Can
the overall theme be stated in the form of an irreconcilable good vs. good
(or evil vs. evil) dilemma?
Blind optimism vs. clear-eyed
cynicism, push for more out of life or accept less.
Is a
thematic question asked out loud (or clearly implied) in the first half, and
left open?
Jack’s future father in law says “I like
non-fiction, there is so much to know about this world, I think you should
read something if someone just invented it, waste of time.” Is it better to
invent your own narrative of life or tell the truth?
Do the
characters consistently have to choose between goods, or between evils,
instead of choosing between good and evil?
Betray Jack or Maya? Lie to Jack about
telling Maya to maintain friendship? Protect Jack from the consequences of
actions or not?
Grounded:
Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does
the story reflect the way the world works?
Very much so.
Does
the story have something authentic to say about this type of setting (Is it
based more on observations of this type of setting than ideas about it)?
Very much so. It feels like Payne must
be a local, though he isn’t.
Does
the story include twinges of real life national pain?
Bush and Rumsfeld on TV of screwed-up
couple, collapse of publishing industry, death of the creative class.
Are
these issues and the overall dilemma addressed in a way that avoids moral
hypocrisy?
Yes.
Do all
of the actions have real consequences?
…although Jack somehow manages to lie
the consequences away after they hit.
Subtle: Is the theme interwoven throughout so
that it need not be discussed often?
Do
many small details throughout subtly and/or ironically tie into the thematic
dilemma?
Facts about wines mirror Miles’
predicament (needing to be nurtured and protected, for instance), the quote
from “A Separate Peace” at the end resonates, he prefers the dark wedding
cake,etc.
Are
one or more objects representing larger ideas exchanged throughout the story,
growing in meaning each time?
The bottle of wine, the condoms, etc. Yes,
the manuscript, the wine bottle, etc.
Untidy:
Is the dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
Does
the ending tip towards one side of the thematic dilemma without resolving it
entirely?
It looks askance at both of
our heroes’ philosophies (Jack’s boundless optimism vs. Miles’s clear-eyed
cynicism), but refuses to privilege either one over the other. Ironically,
each man achieves his own goal by reverting to type at the end and fails to
influence the other one: Jack’s outrageous positive-thinking lies pays off
for him, and Miles’s cynical honesty pays off for him.
Does
the story’s outcome ironically contrast with the initial goal?
Yes, Miles finds that the
way to get the girl is the have the courage to do nothing, waiting for her to
re-approach instead of drunk dialing her.
In the
end, is the plot not entirely tidy (some small plot threads left unresolved,
some answers left vague)?
It’s not clear what will happen when
he shows up at her door.
Do the
characters refuse (or fail) to synthesize the meaning of the story, forcing
the audience to do that?
We never hear the final conversation.
He doesn’t say what the kid’s essay means to him, etc.
