Writing "Camera Story: DC215"

Tonight, in Charlotte, NC, my short documentary Camera Story will screen at the 100 Words Film Festival.

There's always an interesting debate on writing credits in documentaries. Some dismiss this entirely, some say it should really go to the editor, and some say that only certain kinds of docs should have a "writer" credited.

Me, I think all documentaries are written, and any documentary I work on has a lot of the writing process in it. I make structure outlines. I write an approximation of what might be said in interviews, before the actual interviews, just to better understand what I'm seeking. I script voiceovers, and often the overall content of a piece. Sometimes the shot list comes from the rough screenplay.

Usually, though, this isn't directly like writing a script for a nonfiction piece.

When I heard about the 100 Words Film Festival, however, I realized that a film intended to have exactly 100 words needed either a careful script or a really obsessive editor. Both, I suppose.

So I wrote a script exactly as you would for a fiction piece ... and counted word by word.

Lessons learned:

• 100 words is really short.
• Compressing a beginning, middle, and ending into a 100-word text is a challenge.
• Think of visuals and text as partners and rivals. Let the visuals support what is said, but don't forget they can undermine the words as well.
• Take care not to let the viewer get ahead of your meaning or the words become boring. Consider which word reveals the key meaning and decide where that word must go.

100 Words About 100 Words

My short documentary Camera Story will screen on Saturday at the 100 Words Film Festival.

[85 words to go. These don't count.]

You can read about the Official Selections, or read a preview of the festival, or read the festival's Twitter account, but you'll need to get your tickets right away.

[56 left. I'll try to get to the point.]

The thing that's interesting is that usually you make a film, then you try to get it out to an audience. Usually. But this time, I actually wrote the film based on the concept of the festival.

[81 down. Just 19 words to go. Big finish.]

It was not easy. You try writing a 100 word film.

[No, really. Try it. It's pretty fun. Write it, film it, and submit it next year so I can see it.]

I'll wait.

[There you go. A bit of tension. Now, defuse the situation.]

They have a cool poster, too.

Two Films, Neither A Doc

As we finished watching Synecdoche, New York my wife asked what I thought about it. "It's good," I said. Instantly, though, I started to doubt that it was. And the more I thought about it, the more I began to realize: I hate this film a lot. A whole lot. It's taken me about a day to realize how much, and why that is.

The first reason I hate it so much is that it is -- and I know this sounds strange -- a bad mimeograph copy of All That Jazz. And perhaps it's a sign for all that's gone wrong with our culture in the thirty years since then. (Don't get me wrong -- I'm not a sentimental type, I never hearken back to any good old day, and I'm all for letting things fade away. But I think there's some interesting specific evidence here of the difference in our society's character, so hear me out.)

It took a while for my unconscious to let me in on this: it's the exact same plot. A Director deals with life, multiple wives and mistresses, his relationship with his daughter, his desire to be immortal through his work, his struggle to mount a show, and all along wrestles with death, personified by a woman. Lines blur between life and theater, health and youth prove fleeting, and time slips back and forth.

The difference: the semi-autobiographical Bob Fosse is passionate, free and brilliant; the semi-autobiographical Charlie Kaufman is joyless, empty and self-important.

I know neither film is a documentary, and I know there are plenty of viewers who will see the reverse: "All That Jazz" as self-serving and contrived, "Synecdoche" as deep and universal. Here's why I bring it up: I have a theory about what has gone wrong with the majority of film production since the 1970s, and I think this is strong evidence for that theory.

I believe that most fiction films today are made by someone whose essential life experience is making films. I believe that before the "film school generation" took over Hollywood, most fiction films were made by people who could be said to be formed by other experiences.

Fosse was a song and dance man, and then a dance man, and then a choreographer, and then a director. There's no question that his essential life experiences were significantly connected to Hollywood -- he wanted to be Fred Astaire, after all, and if his hairline had cooperated he might have been. There's a sense, though, of connection to all of life's experiences.

But Kaufman's experience of life is that of a TV writer -- which is no critique of TV writers, but it does explain why "Adaptation" is about writing, "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" (which I enjoyed greatly) is about putting on a TV show, and "Synecdoche" is about having a choice between life and theater, and choosing wrong.

What's wrong with "Synecdoche," and so many films that I've seen lately: characters are cleverly sculpted pawns for the writer, and hard to really care for. In his screenwriting tome "Story," Robert McKee -- Kaufman's foil in Adaptation -- says that we should react to a great story with a sense of "Ah, that's what life is like!"

I think we do, in both films. It's just that in "All That Jazz," that reaction is a wry smile. In "Synecdoche" it's an empty stare.

One last note: not everyone will agree with this, but I find a lot of documentary-style approach in "All That Jazz," and none in "Synecdoche." But maybe that's just me.