You definitely want to be: In the Loop

As a wannabe screenwriter, I’ve read scripts - a lot of scripts. And sometimes, the written word is “more alive” than what I eventually see on the screen (if not completely different due to the many changes a screenplay goes through until it’s finally produced). As one reads, a mental picture is being produced; yours could be completely different from mine. And if that “image” doesn’t translate well to the big screen, I’m a bit disappointed. Unfortunately, this happens far too often.

So, perusing through SimplyScripts.com’s comedy section one day, I came across a script I was unfamiliar with titled “In the Loop,” written and directed by Armando Ianucci. (There are additional writing credits). Ianucci’s an English bloke, and what I read that day was respectable. Not expecting much, I rented the video – and couldn’t stop laughing.

In the Loop, released in 2009, is a nonstop, scathing satire about British and U.S. politicians, and all the back-stabbing, insecurities, power struggles, fabrications, ineptitude and down right obtuseness that one could imagine actually happening in “real life” politics, as the two countries attempt to come to a conclusion about invading a fictional county in the Middle East. (Basically, should we invade Iraq?)

It all kicks off when Simon Foster (Tom Hollander), England’s bumbling idiot Minister of International Development, blurts out that war is “unforeseeable.” This little blunder (which happens about 5 minutes into the film), sets off a chain of events that are so hilarious, it’s impossible to summarize them all in one article. I’m just going to say, if you watch the film, you’ll never think of: Meat, meet, Canadians, diarrhea, France, The U.N., shark documentaries, Brokeback Mountain, and the curse word f “star-star” k again.

The movie boasts an ensemble cast including Tom Hollander, a scathing Peter Capaldi (you DO NOT want to work for this guy), Mimi Kennedy, Anna Chlumsky, Gina McKee, David Rasche, and James Gandolfini as Lt. Gen. George Miller. The acting is superb by all, but Hollander and Gandolfini steal the show. There’s a scene that takes place in a messy, four-year-old girl’s bedroom where Gandolfini is explaining to Kennedy how many troops the U.S. has to deploy by adding them up on a calculator that resembles a frog, or something, and the contraption emits these adolescent dins similar to a drunken Baby Alive doll. It’s one of the most ironic and funniest scenes I’ve ever witnessed.

The writing is superb, and the one-liners jump at you like a tiger and hit with as much force. It’s shot in a documentary style reminiscent of “The Office,” which adds to the feeling that the viewer is actually watching authentic situations take place.

In the Loop is not in the league of Dr. Strangelove, but I don’t think they were going for that tone. The tone here is fast and furious, and it all comes together like a Bellini opera.

I give it five beers out of a six pack. I pulled one beer out because if you do rent this movie, tell the kids to scram. There are more F bombs dropped than actual bombs the Allies dropped on Germany.

What exactly is The Hurt Locker?

Is war hell? I’m asking you, because I’ve never served in the military. For those of you who have served, your sacrifice and patriotic commitment are to be commended and respected. That being said, I ask you again, is war hell? According to Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker, actually released in 2008, for some, war equates to an addictive drug. And that’s the narrative that fuels the intense fire that burns throughout this film.

After Staff Sergeant Matt Thompson (Guy Pearce), who’s the leader of an elite unit that diffuses road side bombs in Iraq, meets his untimely demise, in steps Sergeant First Class William James (Jeremy Renner) to lead the unit through its last month of deployment. Even though we only meet Mr. Thompson for a brief few minutes, he seems like a down to earth, rational type who owns the respect and friendship of his team, consisting of Sergeant JT Sandborne (Anthony Mackie) and Specialist Owen Eldridge (Brian Geraghty). Ah, but a movie isn’t a movie without conflict, and that’s exactly what Mr. James brings to the picture.

It seems Mr. James is one beer short of a six pack. On his first mission with the team, he refuses to use the robot to check out a bomb; he throws caution to the wind, and suits up in the “blast suit,” and struts up to the explosives like they’re Easter Eggs. Needless to say, this doesn’t go over well with the team (especially Sandborne), who just want to get the hell out of there alive. (One can’t blame them). And thus, as in almost all war movies, conflict is born, not only with the enemy, but within the unit. James is constantly putting his unit in jeopardy, and it doesn’t sit well with the guys.

The Hurt Locker is an intense, realistic war movie. It was helmed by Mark Boal, who was embedded with an explosive unit in Iraq for a period of time, and with Bigelow’s direction, they make one not only a viewer, but almost an active participant in the action. In that respect, it’s unrelenting and riveting. She used four cameras, surrounding the action from all angles, and very quick cuts. I swear, I think the longest scene is maybe 30 seconds. This is a technique used to keep the viewer "on edge," therefore creating a sense of constant tension.

My only issue with the script is that we never really get to know these characters. Sure, we’re watching them put their lives on the line every day, but why? What drew them to this unit? Why are they in the Army? And the question on everybody’s mind is: “Why the hell is James such a psycho, freak, dare devil?

These questions are never answered. In one scene in the third act, Sandborne and James are driving, and Sandborn does ask James, “Why do you do it, man? What makes you tick?” James looks at Sandborn with a blank expression and simply says, “I don’t know.” Th, th, th, that’s all folks, thanks for coming.We do learn that James is in a relationship at home (not a very healthy one), and that he has a little son. Total screen time: about two minutes. And Sandborn blurbs out that he's not "ready" for a relationship or a son, and then at the end of the movie, he blubbers about how badly he want's a son. Total screen time: maybe 30 seconds. In actuality, we've all seen these characters in movies before: James being the "crazy," damn the torpedoes guy, Sandborn is the rock-solid, play it by the book soldier, and Eldridge is the "scared" guy who doesn't quite know what to make of the whole situation.

Movies are about people, and human beings are very complex creatures. One only needs to reflect on one of the greatest war movies ever made, Platoon, to see a case study in character development. I mean we knew these guys. We felt their pain. We knew what made them tick. In “the business” they call it dimensions, specifically, “Is you character three dimensional?” I don’t know how many times I’ve heard a reader tell me my characters need more depth. And after I tell them to f**k off for the umpteenth time, I realize they’re right. Depth in character unconsciously drags you into the story, compelling YOU to want to take the ride with them to find out what the hell’s gonna happen to them.

So, I ask again, what is The Hurt Locker? I guess it’s an Academy Award winning war movie with a hell of a lot of action with a bunch of guys we know practically nothing about. And, honestly, we never really "find out" what a "hurt" locker is.

I give it four beers out of a six pack for Bigelow’s ability to mask the fact that she and Boal completely pulled one over on the Academy by masking stale characters with basically non-stop action.

Footnote: During the third act, a writer is supposed to tie-up all the lose ends and let the viewer/reader in on what happens to the "main" characters. Boal does this with James and Eldridge. BUT, Sandborn just literally disappears. He's in one of the last scenes, and then poof, he's gone with no explanation as to what happened to him. Did he die? Did he go home and have his son? Is he lost in the desert of Iraq? Is he on Dancing with the Stars? We simply don't know, and I guess Boal wanted it that way. I have never seen this done in a major motion picture.

A day in the life of Motherhood

If you want to spend two hours of your life watching Uma Thurman (who looks about eighty and wears clothes that accompany that age) trudge around Manhattan, bitching about damn near everything in her oh so complicated life, then Motherhood, released in 2009, is the flick for you.

Her character, Eliza Welch, is married to Avery (Anthony Edwards), and is mother to a two-year-old son, Lucas, and five-year-old daughter, Clara. It’s Clara’s birthday and the movie is a day in the life of Eliza attempting to: scurry around New York procuring birthday party supplies, tend to Lucas, keep her car from getting towed because it’s street-sweeping day, deal with an arrogant movie production team that’s filming right in front of her house, keep some sort of normalcy by hanging with her friend Sheila (Minnie Driver), and attempt to finish her essay on, what else, motherhood that she’s writing because she entered an internet writing contest. Whew!

And where’s Avery during all of this? Well, he’s the cliché “idiot” father who can’t seem to do much right in Eliza’s view. At one point, she calls him on his cell numerous times, only to get voice mail. When she confronts him about it, Avery pulls his phone from his pocket, glances at it like he’s never seen a cell phone in his life, and says “Oh, sorry, it was turned off.”

A major problem with Eliza’s character is that one gets the feeling that she detests her own children. That she’s blaming them for her stalled writing career and all the other problems in her life. At times, when she looks at her kids, her facial expressions are rife with contempt teetering on rage. Excuse me, but I thought mothers were supposed to love their children. This movie isn’t Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire, it's billed as a comedy. Hey, I have a great idea for a comedy, let’s write a movie about a harried mother in New York who hates her kids, that ‘ell really knock ‘em dead.

Another aspect of the movie that didn’t ring true to me is the relationship between Avery and Eliza. From the outset, it seems fine. He’s trying the best he can to be a father, and help Eliza in any way possible. In one scene, he actually comes home from work early, so she can get her chores done. Seems like a pretty nice guy, right? Well, not according to Eliza. Towards the end of the movie, she bitches that he doesn’t seem to care for her anymore and that their relationship is a disaster.

What? Where did that come from? This was not set-up at all in the first two acts. It just flies out of left field like a freaking jet airplane. Screenplays are "supposed" to set-up or "drop" hints about future events. They're called "call-backs." There is one scene where Eliza and a young, sexy bike messenger have a completely ridiculous "dance" in her apartment, and some sub-textual sexual tension does take place, but she denies it, and tells him to leave. That's it? This is the perfect scene for Eliza to let us in on her dissatisfaction with the marriage, but no, she just instructs him (to his cougar slaying dismay) to leave.

Finally, there were two lines of dialogue that actually floored me. One of them is when Eliza’s in the middle of an emotional breakdown, and she’s bailing to New Jersey in her car. She’s in a tunnel; I don’t know which one, while screaming at Avery on her cell phone. She then looks at the phone, somewhat surprised and says, “Well, I guess one good thing came from 9/11, better cell reception in tunnels.” OK, let’s alienate a large portion of the audience. The other is when she and Clara are having a conversation and Clara says, “Mothers do everything, Dads only do some things.” OK, let’s alienate the men whose girlfriends or wives dragged them to, or rented, this flick. I can just see the notes from my reader in Hollywood “Are you fucking crazy? Kill these lines or I’ll kill you!” Katherine Dieckmann, who wrote the screenplay, must have some issues. (Most writers do, I should know).

Motherhood does have some very nice dialogue and some funny scenes. I can totally relate to the movie production scene, as I once lived in San Francisco, and believe me, when you see the movie trailers pull into town you know you’re in for some serious parking nightmares.

Also, Avery comes through at the end of the movie with an act of total unselfish sacrifice dealing with a prized possession that he’s sold and gives the money to Eliza. And in an act of total selfishness, she takes it! The scene would have played out so much better, and Eliza would finally have a redeeming quality, if she refused the money and made him retrieve his possession.

Anyway, as she finalizes her essay on the steps of their walk-up apartment (while Clara’s party rages full-on in the apartment), she realizes, of course, that motherhood is good, great, blah, blah, blah, while she’s missing her own daughter’s sixth birthday! Perfect. She’s so selfishly caught up in HER writing project, that she’s missing her own daughter’s sixth birthday party.

Also, there are many scenes, when she’s toting around town, with Eliza and the clichéd “rude” New Yorkers. I’ve been to The Big Apple about five times, and the populous were some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. (Except when I had to buy some condoms in a drug store, the place was packed and the checker had to do a price check over the intercom system. “Price check on Trojans? Price check on Trojans?” It was a little embarrassing).

In my humble opinion, Motherhood’s main problem is a rather large one: The protagonist. Eliza isn’t likable, and that, my friends, is rule number one in screenwriting. For God’s sake, HAVE AN EMPATHETIC PROTAGONIST! AT LEAST ONE WE CAN RELATE TO, FEEL FOR, MAYBE EVEN LIKE, OR IF THEY ARE AN A-HOLE, AT LEAST GIVE THEM A REASON TO BE SUCH AS MICHAEL CORLEONE!

I give it two and a half beers out of a six pack, because I REALLY wish Uma Thruman was my Super NOT Ex Girlfriend.