I *should* hate The Perks of Being a Wallflower, but I loved it. Why?

I finally saw The Perks of Being a Wallflower this past weekend and came away very impressed by it.  It's a very moving coming-of-age story about a high school freshman named Charlie who feels out of place in his new school and ends up being befriended by some seniors who are also on the the fringes of their social group.  Emma Watson plays the dream girl whom Charlie falls hard for, even as he's too timid to approach her as anything other than a friend.  Charlie's other friends include a gay outsider struggling with the fact that the jock he's hooking up with is in the closet and won't acknowledge him publicly.

I've never read the book (written by Stephen Chbosky, who also wrote and directed the film), so I went in completely fresh, beyond knowing what little had been shown in the trailers.  One of the more remarkable things about this film is how we are immediately drawn into Charlie and his angst. From frame one - this is a film that just GETS IT.  Voiceover is used to take us inside Charlie's head, but it never feels like an expositional cheat.  It's never intrusive either.  More often it's used as a transitional device and is only sparingly used to underscore scenes.

About halfway through, I realized something - this script was chock-full of little devices that I usually hate in these indie films.  A quick accounting:

- voiceover.
- a female object of desire who hews close to both the "emotionally damaged" dreamgirl and the manic pixie dream girl types.
- an exploration of how hard it is to be a gay teen.
- character dealing with suicide of a friend.
- character dealing with being sexually abused.
- an exploration of the social intricacies of high school hierarchy.
- a soundtrack that can easily be mistaken for a mixtape.
- characters bonding over music that they assure the other will "change your life."

For the last day or so, I've been trying to figure out how this film does things so right that it avoids the pitfalls.  Frankly, I fear it's like the old saw about how examining a joke is like dissecting a frog; you can't do so without killing it.  Still, I feel obligated to dive a little deeper, just to see what can be learned here.

I'm not saying that the above elements are always bad - but they DO have a tendency to be mishandled and often are cliched in indie films.  Garden State hits most of those boxes and I despise the film for being the sort of quintessential self-indulgent "filmmaker works through his own emo issues" movie.  And I know it's kinda trendy to hate on Garden State now, but I've been on this bandwagon since I noticed the most substantive thing any one would say about it was "It's such a good soundtrack."

I'm at the right age to have been in love with Natalie Portman for a while and not have it be creepy (she's about a year younger than me), so I should have been over the moon for her in Garden State, right?  It feels like the intent is to make her that quirky girl who makes a man "feel alive again."  And yet, it didn't work for me.  As likable as Portman can be, she never made me believe that girl could really exist.

Emma Watson's Sam is a different story.  It's probably unfair to say she's a textbook Manic Pixie Dream Girl, but she definitely represents an archetype often overused in these indie films.  The difference is that I don't think it's possible to watch Perks and NOT fall a little in love with Sam.  She's fun, she's compassionate, but it doesn't feel like she exists only to further Charlie's story.  The script does a good job of alluding to her history and shading her background in a way that fleshes her out without detracting from the story. 

Better still, the film accomplishes all of this even while limited to just showing us Sam through Charlie's eyes.  Being restricted to what Charlie sees of her somehow provokes us to imagine there's more to her life beyond those fringes.  We never see her alone, so we're left to draw our own conclusions where the film doesn't fill in the blanks.

I think that's the key to the movie's appeal - the emotional identification with Charlie's perspective.  It was funny to me how much I felt like I identified with Charlie as I was watching it even though, upon reflection, our high school experiences were very different.  My school wasn't as cliquey, I had a lot of friends, many of whom I'd known for several years by that point.  Unlike Charlie my home life was relatively undramatic, and so on and so on.

But what this film nails is that everyone feels like an outsider in some way.  If we're lucky, we have that group of people that "gets" us.  Charlie's high school world looks the way that most of ours probably felt.  And the reason the film probably works is that it doesn't beat us over the head with this.  I feel like the films in this genre that go wrong are the ones that try too hard to make sure we get the point.  They're so fixated on making the statement that they deny us the discovery.

And that's it.  We can probably watch this film and remember what it felt like to fall hard for someone who was so close to us, but also unattainably far away at the same time.  One of the film's smartest moves is to not white-wash that into some kind of romantic comedy happy ending where Sam and Charlie realize that they're each other's one true love.  We're given an ending that is satisfying, but also realistic, perhaps even wistful.

Why does this movie work?

Because it makes you feel.

Some films that you don't watch - you experience.

You understand why Charlie falls in love with Sam.  You even see what she loves in him.  You project your own experience on the characters.  That makes it sound like the audience is doing all the work, but it takes skill to write material that can evoke those feelings.

Bravo Stephen Chbosky, and the cast that brought those words to life deserves equal praise.

Do you want your script to resonate like that?  Do you want your words to stand out from the massive stack that every reader goes through each week?

Make me feel.

Hear me discuss Amazon Studios on the Broken Projector podcast

I really should have linked to this sooner considering that posts about Amazon Studios tend to be among my most-viewed.  This week, I had the honor of being the guest on Scott Beggs and Geoff LaTulippe's podcast Broken Projector.  Screenwriter Justin Marks also joined the conversation as we weighed the pros and cons of Amazon Studios' new venture into producing 14 pilots and then crowdsourcing the development of those pilots.

You can find the embedded post here.

You can download it directly here.

You can subscribe via iTunes here.

Broken Projector is one of my favorite podcasts, so it was a great pleasure to be invited on the show.  If you love movies, this is a podcast you need to be listening to every week.  As a bonus, you now know the proper "voice" to hear in your head as you read Geoff LaTulippe's tweets.

See F. Scott Frazier's THE NUMBERS STATION this weekend!

Screenwriter and friend-of-the-blog F. Scott Frazier experiences a milestone this weekend with the theatrical release of his first film The Numbers Station.  It's getting only a limited release, but I know he'd appreciate it if those of you near those theaters would check it out.  Need some enticement?  Check out the trailer.




And here's a complete listing of cities and theaters where you can find it theatrically.

New York - AMC Empire 25
LA - AMC Burbank Town Center 8
Chicago - AMC Streets of Woodfield 20
Detroit - AMC Forum 30
Houston - AMC Studio 30 Houston
Dallas - AMC Grapevine Mills 30
Phoenix - AMC Ahwatukee 24
Cincinnati - AMC Newport on the Levee 20
Kansas City - AMC Studio 28
Tampa - AMC Veterans 24

But this being the 21st Century, theatrical isn't your only option.  You can also rent it on iTunes and watch it in the comfort of your own home. And just to sweeten the pot a little further, Scott will be doing a live-tweet tonight (Thursday), starting at 8pm PST.  Follow him at @ScreenWritten or use the hastag #TNS to follow the conversation.

And if you're interested in revisiting my interview with Scott, you can find it here:



I hope you enjoy the film!

Webshow: "I wrote it, now what do I do with it? Part 2 - What to look for in a contest"

It's not uncommon for me to get a question along the lines of, "I wrote it, now what do I do with it?" It's a good question, and one with no easy answers. So don't think of this continuing series AS those easy answers. There are merely points to ponder. This week, I talk about what sorts of things you should look for in a reputable screenwriting contest.

Tuesday Talkback: Does Amazon Studios have any idea what it's doing?

Long-time readers probably remember I took great exception to the original mission of Amazon Studios, which seemed to be attempting one of the most egregious exploitations of amateur writers that I'd ever seen attempted.  Beyond that issue, I had the distinct impression that the people behind the then-new venture had little understanding of the industry they were attempting to "revolutionize."  While it would be improper to go into any great detail about some off-the-record encounters I had with those behind the scenes, I will say that nothing I learned through any channel - both official and unofficial - dissuaded me from that feeling.

But as Amazon Studios seemed to give up on their attempts to seize rights to all the amateur scripts willing to dive into its maw, I found less motivation to focus on their dealings.  The rules for those amateur submissions seemed less draconian, and more importantly, they seemingly did a pretty thorough job of alienating most amateurs by so clearly focusing on projects from established writers.

And yet, even after two and a half years and all those changes to the program, I still feel like the guys in charage are way too naive about the TV and film business.  What makes me say that?  Quotes like this from Amazon Studios director Roy Price:

TV Guide Magazine: Why did you cast and produce these pilots during network pilot season, when competition for talent is fierce? 

Price: That was not intentional. That's just the way it worked out. I guess if we had really planned it by the calendar then maybe going off cycle would have been a good idea. Maybe we'll try that in the future.

Did Price just admit they didn't put a lot of thought into the timing of their venture? They they were completely ignorant they were competing with network pilot season? That would be like failing to realize that you accidentally scheduled your Great Britain Appreciation party for the Fourth of July!  You can't have more than 12 months of experience in this business and NOT have an appreciation for how all-consuming pilot season is.

It would be one thing if they made a deliberate decision to go head-to-head with the big boys. (I don't know WHY they would, but at least it would be an informed choice.)  Price's phrasing indicates that they're only focused on their venture and not accounting for it's position relative to the rest of the ecosystem they inhabit.

That's... troubling.

Addendum - 1:00am PST: Just to toss this into the mix too - compare Amazon Studios foray into streaming programming with Netflix's.  Netflix brought in people like Kevin Spacey, David Fincher and Eli Roth - creators with strong visions.  Those are guys used to having creative control and all indications are that Netflix gave them fairly close to a free reign in developing their shows.  Meanwhile, Amazon's method is more along the lines of test-marketing and focus-grouping the hell out of their pilots.

Netflix = few-to-no notes.
Amazon Studios = mountain of notes.

Which one seems more conducive to the creative process?  Which one would you rather be working under when you ascended to the rank of show-runner?

So what do you guys think? 

Reader questions - Listing achievements in queries and suspension of disbelief

Driscol asks:

My script recently made it to the top 10% of Nicholls and the Quarterfinalist round for Zoetrope and the Final Draft Big Break contest. Is that something worth including in queries? Or are agents/managers just going to see that and say to themselves, "He couldn't make it to semi-finalist?"

 You're probably not far off with your latter assumption.  As much of an achievement it is to be a Quarterfinalist, it's probably not quite impressive enough to pry open the door on its own.  If you've got a kickass logline, though, that's a different story.  But then, if you have a kick-ass logline, it'll probably stand on its own without the Quarterfinalist note.

Being in the top 10% of Nicholl entries is kind of the same thing.  Last year there were 7,197 entries in the competition, which means that 10% of that places in you in the top 720 or so scripts.  And since you didn't make the top 5%, it's safe to assume that there are at least 359 scripts that were better than yours.

When you break it down like that, it doesn't sound quite so good.  As with everything, it's a judgement call.  If it was me, I'd probably lead with the hook of the script rather than the achievements unless you've got some serious accolades.

Samuel asks a good question about plausibility:

I'm writing a script that relates to a couple trying to adopt a child from another country. One of the key plot turns in my script is when the couple discovers they don't fulfill a little known requirement that the foreign government holds for prospective adoptive parents. My problem is that when people read my script, they feel like this regulation is too far-fetched and that I bring it in only as a convenient plot device to serve my own purposes. However, the truth is that this particular foreign regulation is actually REAL and I'm not making it up. I have no idea on how to make that evident to the reader short of just telling him/her that when I give them the script to read. Is there any way to make it clear in a script that I'm not making something up?

Honestly, there isn't.  And I advise against putting a note in the script because that still doesn't solve the problem you have of figuring out how to convince an audience that this is real.

My go-to example in these cases is usually Apollo 13.  Almost every thing in that movie is accurate and there are some twists that would be called out if they sprang from the mind of a Hollywood writer.  The two I'm thinking of in particular are when Mrs. Lovell loses her wedding ring in the shower and then later when the NASA scientists are tasked with figuring out how to essentially fit a square peg into a round hole using only the materials on the space craft.

That task in particular seems incredibly difficult and somehow the scientists pull it off within an extremely tight time limit.  (There's even some drama when the astronauts make a mistake and tear a plastic bag that's essential to the procedure.  Fortunately that problem is easily solved.)

On the other hand, I'm sure I've heard of cases where writers have taken the step of removing the most implausible details of "based-on-a-true story" adaptations because they know the audience will be pulled out of the narrative by them.  In those cases, I'm pretty sure they were side details that were mostly unimportant to the larger story, so removing them wouldn't take the teeth out of the script.

But if your script hinges on this twist, you might have to just bite the bullet and go for it.  There's also the possibility that something else in your script isn't working and your audience has one foot already out the door when this new twist arises.  If you can reinforce the rest of the story, perhaps this one element won't be catastrophic.

Webshow: "I wrote it, now what do I do with it?" Part 1 - The Death of the Query Letter

It’s not uncommon for me to get a question along the lines of, “I wrote it, now what do I do with it?” It’s a good question, and one with no easy answers. So don’t think of this continuing series AS those easy answers. There are merely points to ponder. This week, I'll kick things off by talking about the death of the query letter.


There's plenty more to cover in subsequent weeks, so make sure you're back here every Wednesday for the latest installment.