struck sure quest eons

This little writing epiphany came to me not too long ago, and I thought it was cool enough to share. It deals with structure:

ACT I - You are unlearned and ignorant. In order to become a better being, you must become learned and wise.

ACT II - So, you go to school. At school, you learn many things. It is a new environment. You make new friends. The ignorance begins to fade. You are becoming learned. But, you're not quite there yet, for school is not a place of application. You must enter into...

ACT III - The Final Exam. Here you are tested to the max on EVERYTHING you learned at school. You must apply it, so that you can become not just learned, but wise, for wisdom stems from experience, not from books. 

The End.

Yeah, I know. I said I was a Four Act Man, and I still am. It's just easier to illustrate in three. 

I dunno. This may not be news to you, but I found it rather enlightening. To think of the third act as being an exam of sorts for all the things learned in the second act makes the second act's often ambiguous purpose all the more clear. We often say the second act is where we try the protagonist, and that's true, but I think most importantly, it's where he/she is taught. It's almost as if you can come up with three or four "questions" that need to be asked in Act III, and then come up with ways for them to all be taught, or addressed, in the second act. 

Okay, an example (From a real script I'm concocting):

Protagonist - A new mother, estranged from her husband, desperately seeking approval from an adopted mother she never got along with, as well as from her mysterious birth mother. She believes that in knowing who her real mother is, she'll be able to raise her children right. In the end (SPOILER ALERT, sorta), she learns the most important relationship to foster is the one she chose to be in, the one with her husband.

So, what could the questions be for her Act II?

1. What kind of man is her husband?

2. What kind of mother is her birth mother?

3. What kind of mother is her adopted mother?

4. What does it take to be a good mother?

etc. etc. 

All of these questions could be a sequence, a scene, a conversation or even just a moment. When you look at it that way, it practically writes itself, no? 

And the best part is, you can write as many questions as you want. I mean, don't get carried away or nothin', cause then it'll get long, and possibly not as interesting, but always be asking questions. And maybe you don't address them all in the script. Maybe all they do help you with better understanding the characters; doesn't that still make them valuable? What's important is to just know the questions that need to be asked, and then shuffle in the answers during your second act. Teach your protagonist well*. 

So, basically, what I'm saying is this: Be your protagonist's meanest high school English teacher. Teach 'em everything you think they need to know to do awesome in their final act. Don't surprise them with new questions about information they never learned (I'd say that's a bit "deus ex machina", which by the way is such a cool sounding phrase, that it's a bummer that it's practically a swear word in Screenwriting Land), because that's not fair. Give them just enough (or more than enough) to pass the test. 

And don't make it easy. While they may do wonders for your GPA, there's nothing entertaining about an easy A. 

So, what are y'all's thoughts? Expound! Contend! Detest! Whatever works. I wanna hear what you think...

*Their father's hell did slowly go by

I sent this message to a friend of mine on Facebook, and I put a lot of thought into it, so I'm sharing it here.  Why? I dunno. I figure it's good to express one's opinions on something so divisive, and since LOST is over forever, why not do one last hurrah.

And, please, in no way am I saying I "get it" better than you did, if you don't agree with my analysis. If anything, LOST is a personal experience, and while its fantastic to discuss in groups, the only thing that matters is how you feel.

Spoilers Ahead. Natch.

[My friend asked about the character's mortality]

Yes, they all died, but not necessarily within the timeframe of what we saw on the show. Ben and Hurley even had the exchange outside the church talking about their tenure as Island protectors, so they must have done more after Jack died. I think Kate, Sawyer, Richard, Miles, Lapidus, and maybe even Desmond all got home, safely, and lived out their lives, and then died.

The Sideways world was, as Christian said, a place where there was no "now", so its a place where time isn't an issue (think about the continuity of Sun getting shot, meeting up with car accident Locke. The timeline doesn't match. Sun was shot the day after the plane landed. Locke was hit a week after...). All of those folks died, but at different times. It's messy to think about, because our brains have a hard time processing the idea, but it makes sense, sorta.

All in all, I see the show as an allegory for life, and how life is simply a confusing, mysterious place that never quite makes a lot of sense. And then you die. And in death, a lot of things get unanswered, and there's a lot of unfinished business. So, in a sense, when the show died, so did the burning questions. Since this was Jack's story, as we learned, it was necessary to leave the show with the same understanding that Jack had when he died. He didn't know what he was saving, or why it was important, but he just knew he had to do it. And we as an audience need to accept that. (I'm still struggling with it, to be honest. I get it, but I still want more.)

Jacob brought them all to the Island to not only save it from the Man in Black, but to set in motion a world where they could find peace (the Sideways world). He knew, after centuries of discovery, that human beings can't let go. We cling to life desperately, so much so that we often bring about our own demise. Our selfish need to survive, so to speak. Why? Because we don't want to lose loved ones. We congregate in groups, forming civilizations, and for us, death means the end of that. So, he pushed the castaways to the moment in 1977, where they set off Jughead, to create that new ending. But, they had to all be there. Together. They had to do it together. Everything they ever did had to be together, or else they'd be lost. Think about Michael, chasing after Walt. He ran away from the group, and then became "lost". The Oceanic Six. They weren't living fulfilled lives, because they weren't together. They were still "lost." Going back to the Island meant being together again. It meant being found. I think that's what Jack was craving when he said they need to go back; not necessarily his "destiny," but more like the chance to be with these people that have meant so much to him. He's survived with them, and that's a special bond.

The best thing we can take away from our lives are the relationships we cultivate. The people we love. Even the enemies we fight against.

I think what's most fascinating about the show is that in the end, they made their own ending. The Sideways world was their creation, created from a single act of incredible faith and trust. As a group, as friends, they changed their destiny, and gave themselves a happily ever after. That wouldn't have been possible without the experiences they had, living together. The show, for me, was about working out one's salvation, and most importantly, not working it out alone. The castaways were alone, miserable, and destined for failure. The plane crash changed that, and gave them new hope, in the form of friends and lovers. From there, they fought to protect one another, to survive as a group, and yes, there were casualties, but it made them stronger. Each season, the castaways would split up, chaos would ensue, and by the end, they'd be back together. Jacob knew that they HAD to be together.

Live together, die alone, right?

There's my ramblings. I didn't sleep much last night, because I kept thinking about the show. Insane stuff. I think I get what they were saying. I think they could have been more careful about filling the show with too much mystery, but that could have been by design. They knew folks would hate it, because it doesn't at all answer much of anything. But again, I think that's the point. We as the audience experienced the passing of LOST, and with it, all of the answers it supposedly held. As Damon wrote on his Twitter "Remember. Let go. Move on." It's a bold creative statement to say, but I like that they went there. They knew it would get people mad, but isn't that what LOST has been doing for six seasons?

So in that respect, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Nerd Boyfriend

I'm trying something different today. Why? For kicks. Also, cause I want an excuse to write something short, sweet, and concise daily without it pertaining to film or pop culture. So, website reviews. Specifically, websites I've never heard of or been to before.

Why website reviews? Cause I just decided it. Get used to it.  And with the plethora of random junk on the Internet, I figured why not highlight the stuff that's just kinda cool?

This won't be a regular thing. I'm not that invested in this idea.

Enjoi.

NERD BOYFRIEND

LINK ME:
www.nerdboyfriend.com

DESCRIBE ME:
I suppose the title of this site stems from the notion that when it comes to fashion, nerds tend to emulate rather than innovate. It's these same folk that get a kick out of dressing like E.T. era Spielberg



or Harold Ramis in Stripes.



Consider this blog/site the source for all of your nerd boyfriend’s requests to dress like famous “nerds”, while still maintaining some sense of fashion.
Here are some notable ones:

Rowan Atkinson
Akira Kurosawa
Señor Chang (NBC’s Community)

SUMMARIZE ME:
A fantastic resource. Each entry has a well-researched selection of look-alike pieces to help create the look. It’s like any issue of GQ, except the pictures reflect a more relaxed, everyday demeanor, as opposed to the posed, and almost TOO fashionable celebs featured therein.

swamp eagle

I'm pretty sure I could listen to this song for a frighteningly long period of time, and not get sick of it.

(song starts at about 1 minute in...)



This is from the DVD of the 2007 Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim's Company, in case you're curious. The man singing is Raúl Esparza, who you may know from his small stint on Pushing Daisies. That voice... Man alive....

And yes, he is playing the piano. All the cast members also play an instrument in the orchestra. It's a bizarre choice, but pretty cool nonetheless...