Diablo Cody is My Hero (for being a BAMF)

I go into hiding for a few weeks and there’s comments on my post! Sorry to those who were sweet enough to stop and say hi… I’ll be much more doting as a blogger in the weeks to come, I swear!

On to today’s brief topic: Diablo Cody is my hero. And it has nothing to do with her writing (which I think is good). From her MySpace blog: (somewhat NSFW after jump)

A Defense of Television

One of my favorite blogs on screenwriting, Complications Ensue, had a post recently called “Why TV?” I found it an excellent defense of a medium people always trash. My favorite part of his defense is this paragraph:

I write TV because it is the dominant medium in our time. It is where the best stuff is being done. It is what the most people are tuning into. It is the biggest lever to move people’s hearts. If this were the 19th Century I would probably be a novelist, and this would be a diary. If this were the 17th Century I would be a playwright and this would be drunken rantings in a pub. If this were the 6th Century BC I would be a poet and this would be drunken rantings at a private dinner.

To me, the problem is that many critics of television don’t recognize it as a medium but rather an entirely autonomous entity. While there are certainly political factors that affect what sort of television is being produced (the “big studios” certainly have the most say), every art has at some point been patronized by an entity that may have business interests at heart. Michaelangelo was commissioned by the Church, Shakespeare commissioned by the crown, and every film ever made had to be paid for by somebody. I think the resistance to television is a resistance to the democratization of art, stemming from a mix of elitism and fear of art’s impact being diluted because of its accessibility.

Yet time and time again I hear from professors that our generation – the YouTube generation that grew up on cable television – is the most visually sophisticated yet. We can process images faster than our parents could, which allows (though certainly shouldn’t mandate) more complicated editing in film and more visually descriptive text in a screenplay. If this is the unwanted effect of television, I’m not sure what the world is looking for.

“Sweded” Films and Screenwriting

Anyone who has seen Be Kind, Rewind has heard the term “sweded,” which refers to a no-budget remake of a popular film. This post at 1000 Dollar Film discusses how one might be able to “swede” their own script.

My question is, does sweding have to be completed at the production phase? Why not write your high-concept script with the swede already in mind. To me, this seems like a great approach to writing for web content, which often plays up the no-budgety feel to appeal to the DIY crowd.

So maybe you should write the swede into your next short. Instead of writing about a spaceship, describe its cardboard exterior and the glimpse of your cat in the background. This would give more structure the “swede” since every element will be intentional rather than out of necessity. I certainly am going to give this a try.

And after all, didn’t Gondry have to script those swedes in the first place?

BONUS – An example of a YouTube swede:

Bat-rants

I read an interesting essay in Variety by Lorenzo Semple Jr., series creator of the 1966 Batman television series. What struck me as interesting was his description of the sort of attacks he received in regards to his self-proclaimed “cheeky” adaptation of Batman:

The experience of getting TV Batman airborne was pure pleasure, and I hope explains why I disappoint those folks who ask me my opinion of bigscreen Batman, doubtless looking for something juicy. Apples and oranges. Their complex hero is not my innocent, brow knitted as he and Robin dig deep to decipher one of the Riddler’s third-grade-level puzzlers. Who knows? Folks who prefer the new guy may well be right. Several years ago, a scholarly avant-garde science-fiction/comicbook fan mag — yes, there actually are such things! — ran an issue with this banner on the cover: “Lorenzo Semple Jr.’s Hate Mail!” And indeed, there were colorful samples of such mail inside. The accusations were that I had dissed Batman in the TV series, not treated him with the gravitas he deserves.

I always hated the sort of fanboy/girl elitism that spoke against the 1966 campy gem of a television series. People were angry that Mr. Semple had “dissed Batman in the TV series,” but I always found the series to be playful and loving. He showed a great respect for the material by finding a new voice for it. How many others would look at the story of a vengeful orphan and see a source for satire or camp? No disrespect to Christopher Nolan, whose work on the franchise I admire, but I would even argue that on a conceptual level it is harder to find humor in the scenario than drama.

After all, isn’t a writer supposed to create rather than regurgitate? Just as Nolan found a new voice for Batman by creating a personal, more realistic story, Semple employed his own comic voice and created a pop icon that could be reinvented for years to come.