Billi
is broke Chinese-American would-be writer in New York, who finds out that her
beloved grandma NaiNai
back in China is dying, and, according to Chinese custom, the family has chosen
not to tell her of her own illness, but the family has contrived a wedding that
will give them an excuse to visit grandma one last time.Billi decides
to tell grandma but gets talked out of it, eventually joining in on the
deception.In the end, NaiNai doesn’t find out and is
still alive when the movie is made.
Hi guys! We will get back to non-podcast related material soon, but first let’s do another episode, featuring returning guest Jonathan Auxier, who wanted to stop by and talk about franchise finales, because he’s preparing to write one himself. It’s another long one!
By the way, I can’t believe I failed to bring up “Avatar: The Last Airbender” at any point! Definitely one of the all-time great American sagas with one of the all-time great finales, very much in the same vein as Return of the Jedi in terms of rising above the idea of killing the bad guy. It’s funny that “Game of Thrones” has so much sex and violence but is ultimately a pretty juvenile series, while ATLA is appropriate for four year olds, but is 10x more emotionally mature and sophisticated than GOT.
UPDATE: Jonathan wanted to add this, which, as you’ll see why, I’m more than happy to include:
After we finished recording, I realized that Matt had made a pretty genius observation on this topic that passed without much comment. Matt is 100% right that beheading Thanos in the first 5 minutes of ENDGAME was an attack on unhealthy audience appetites. The moment was especially jarring because virtually every other installment in the Avengers franchise had basically ended with “punch the villain into submission” as the final solution (which might explain why I haven’t liked earlier installments in the series). ENDGAME changes everything. It serves up violence right at the beginning ... but instead of solving things, it makes everything worse! That single move accomplishes so much in terms of plot and theme. It’s a huge escalation -- suddenly our heroes are encountering a problem that violence can't solve. It creates enormous uncertainty in both the audience and characters. AND it’s retraining our palates to crave deeper truth (what we need) rather than simplistic fighting (what we want). In the big finale, the movie is smart enough to give us some epic fighting. But all of that noise falls away for the true climax: Tony Stark's sacrifice. Killing off such a beloved character should incite riot -- but we accept it because we’ve seen where the simplistic solution lands us. Even better, Tony Stark in that moment is really reflecting the growth that the audience has experienced over the course of the movie. We’re right there with him as he realizes that this is not a problem he can laser-blast his way out of. The climax of ENDGAME isn’t happy; but it is deeply satisfying. And in the long run, that’s much more important.
I agree with Jonathan: I’m awesome.
I especially like in Endgame how Thanos is about to make some profound moral ruminations on his genocide and we in the audience are thinking “fuck this guy and his profundity! He killed billions of people!” Then Thor just chops his head off before he can finish his point and we’re like “Oh hell yeah” ...but then it’s instantly unsatisfying.
Oh, and Jonathan, one more piece of advice: Don't overdo the loss-for-loss’s-sake in the final book. The one thing I really hate about the Harry Potter books is that they killed off Fred in the finale, which felt like “final book sense of loss” just for the sake of “final book sense of loss”. I think Rowling felt like “I’m killing off many beloved characters, but I need one that’ll really hurt even more than the others” and it was just too much. It ruins the other books as you reread then, knowing how tragically things will turn out for Fred and even moreso for George, losing his twin. You don’t kill off the comic relief!
(When I read the books to my daughter, I meant to cut out that death, but it snuck up on me. Now that I’m reading them to my son, I’ll figure out how to snip it out.)
Oh dear god, people, it’s a new episode of the podcast just one week after the last one! Is this new normal? No, it isn’t! There almost certainly won’t be a new episode next week. But hey, it’s kinda fun, isn’t it?
In this episode we ask a basic question: Do writers lose something when they actually learn to write like a professional? To answer it, we delve into my tragic origin story. We spend this episode discussing my 2004 biopic-script about Alan Turing, The Man Who Won the War, and comparing it to the unrelated 2014 biopic that actually got made, The Imitation Game. If you want to read my script, you can download it here, but I think you can enjoy the episode just fine whether or not you do so.
Meanwhile, let me say a word about the ads. I joined the IFH podcast network with the understanding that we would have two ads at the very beginning and two ads at the very end, but the deal has unfortunately changed. It’s not Alex’s fault: just this week, he was as surprised as I was when our host Spreaker announced that, from now on, they’ll demand one ad for every ten minutes of podcast! For our shorter episodes, those ads at the beginning and end have it covered. For most of our episodes, which are 50-something minutes, I’ve added an ad between the ending music and the closing spiel, but for our longest episodes, like Laika, I’ve had to add a ton of ads interrupting me and James. I’m sorry about this and Alex is sorry about this. This was not supposed to happen.
(This is why they were inserting a random ad interrupted us at the 2 minute mark on some epsiodes. Well, those ads are gone, but only because I’ve replaced them elsewhere.)
Right away, this is an issue, because this episode is 74 minutes, and I really don’t want the ads to interrupt us. So I recorded a version of this spiel at the beginning and then pause for two more ads before we get started.
Hey, guys, check it out, it’s our first episode on the IFH Podcast Network! New Music! New Art! An Ending Spiel! And easily skippable ads at the very beginning and end! James and I discuss “Believe, Care, Invest” vs. “Connect, Care, Commit” and quickly find ourselves discussing the weightier topic of whether authors overvalue identification and neglect the value of alienation. And, of course, James adds an 8th and 9th “E”.
Update: An extra ad is playing two minutes into every episode, interrupting us, but I’m trying to fix that!
Our final movie! Next up: TV. I’ve realized that “Convince” doesn’t work because it’s referring to what the writer does, but not what the reader is supposed to do.
Why it might be hard to identify with Joe:
He’s miserable and maybe just doesn’t have what it takes. We believe Betty that he really doesn’t deserve the living he’s trying to make. In many ways, it’s only his self-deprecating voice-over that makes him sympathetic. Without it, he’d be pretty unbearable.
Connect
The details of the business are convincing: “Pretty simple to shoot, lots of outdoors stuff.”
Care
In the present, he’s been murdered. In the past, he’s broke and rejected by the world. He hears what Betty thinks of his script when she doesn’t realize he’s in the room. “It’s from hunger…A rehash of something that wasn’t very good to begin with.” When she meets him she says, “I’d always heard that you had some talent.” He replies, “That was last year, this year I’m trying to earn a living.”
Commit
He’s got a funny voice-over. He says of his own dead body, floating in a pool: “Poor dope, he always wanted a pool.” As he calls around for money, he tells us “I talked to a couple of ‘yes men’ at Metro. To me, they all said no.” He gets in a car chase to save his car (and livelihood), so that’s always likeable.
Five Es
Eat: No.
Exercise: No.
Economic Activity: He’s desperately trying to get a job.
Enjoy: No.
Emulate: He tries talking like a producer around the producers, to no avail.
Rise above
He’s desperate for any job. Even when he finally starts trying to get out from under his new boss, at the midpoint, it’s so he can work on a spec script with Betty. Only at the end does he decide to move back home and try to get his old reporter job back ...but it’s too late.
We don’t meet him until 16 minutes in! (because his early scenes were deleted.) Then, when we do meet him, he’s whiny and petulant (though James Kennedy disagrees: 1, 2, 3)
Connect
The first 16 minutes are all about creating a thoroughly convincing world with its own bizarre logic and a wealth of detail. The grime and focus on economic activity is convincing (Wait, should the first C be Convince?? That’s worth thinking about!)
Care
We bristle for him when his uncle tells him, “You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done, now get to it.” We feel for him when he says, “If there’s a bright center on the universe, you’re on the planet it’s farthest from.” We agree with his aunt when she tries to tell his uncle that he should be a fighter pilot and not a farmer. Ultimately, we care the most when he looks off into the distance at the two suns with yearning on his face. That’s really a CCC moment.
Commit
In the deleted scenes he was the only one on the planet monitoring the action above (Knowledge of above and below is always likeable), but that’s gone. In what we see, he knows what’s wrong with the red robot. He does a good job taking care of the droids. We admire his wiliness in negotiating with his uncle.
Five Es
Eat: Blue milk!
Exercise: Not really. He jogs a bit back and forth to the robots.
Economic Activity: Tons of it.
Enjoy: In the deleted scenes, we got to see him hang out with his friends
Emulate: He plays with a toy plane.
Rise above
Subconsciously, he knows he's putting his job at risk by removing the inhibitor bolt to see more of the princess. He ditches out on his job to chase after R2, but that’s still just to keep his boss/uncle happy. He doesn’t really rise above his job until everybody’s dead.
She moves through several layers of FBI headquarters and it’s a very convincing world. Lecter notes many oddly specific things about her. He sniffs her and says, “Sometimes you wear L’Air du Temps, but not today.”
Care
We feel for her when she has to ride in an elevator where everybody is taller than her, then when she’s ushered out of a room where they’re discussing Buffalo Bill. Chilton hits on her, humiliating her. She realizes that she’s been chosen because of her looks. Lecter insults her in lots of ways.
Commit
She runs past signs that say Hurt, Agony, Pain, Love It, which is pretty bad-ass. We admire that she stands up to Crawford and Chilton in little ways. We admire her for doing a good job sparring with Lecter. Lecter calls her slippery, which is a nice compliment. We admire her for admitting what Miggs said to her.
Five Es
Eat: Never
Exercise: She’s running through a rigorous ropes course when we first meet her.
Economic Activity: She’s never not working.
Enjoy: Not really. She seems to enjoy her work well enough, but she’s pretty serious about it.
Emulate: She’s trying to act like an experienced FBI agent.
Rise above
She’ll break orders halfway in, but only so that she can do her job better than her boss.
High five a black guy:
She does indeed high five a black girl we rarely see again. (We find out in the deleted scenes that it’s her roommate)
Kind
“You grilled me pretty hard on the Bureau’s civil right record in the Hoover years.”
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?)