Tag: Carrion

Original sci-fi, reacting to vicious drug policy, developed into a 110-page screenplay.

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Adam’s immoral action

I have a problem, I’ve started to get this nagging doubt that Adam’s actions aren’t going to work, they’re not proactive enough. The moral vision for the end of Carrion has Adam taking action against prohibition. He starts the screenplay a self-righteous policeman and ends a humbled rebel.

For this transformation to work, Adam can’t just take up arms against prohibition, he has to go through a series of actions that teach him the right way to act in the world. He has to take actions that teach him not only to resist prohibition but to fight it.

Structurally the problem can best be explained by paraphrasing John Truby. “In the early part of the story the hero is losing to the opponent. He becomes desperate. As a result he starts taking immoral actions to win. Other characters criticize the hero for the means he is taking. The hero defends his actions.”

I think what Truby means is only by taking immoral actions that fail can the hero learn the moral way to act. In trying to answer this problem I asked myself, what kind of immoral actions does Adam take? The answer can best be summed up as “not fighting back”. The actions he takes are immoral because it appeases prohibition.

Does the make Adam seem passive? What I’m struggling to reconcile is who Adam is at the beginning of the screenplay, and who he is at the end. The key seems to lay in his conflict with Reiner, a rampant prohibitionist who has killed his drug using daughter.

How does Adam deal with that moral dilemma?

He believes in the law so should arrest Reiner, but with the rabid hatred of drug users we’d be at the end of the screenplay before he’d begun. Alternatively the answer might lay in Adam’s desire to save Christine. Why does he want to save Christine? He wants to save her because she is his sister. Initially he thinks he’s saving her from herself, that’s why he arrests her, then from prohibition.

Alternatively a direct threat on Christine, by Reiner, would push Adam to take action, despite his overwhelming hostility to drug users. That way he’s not passive, appeasing prohibition, but taking positive action to save Christine.

The immoral action in the story world is his attempts to save a drug user.

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Summing up Carrion

I read something by John Truby about Breaking Bad (2008- ).

Breaking Bad

Truby had some interesting insights on the character development of Walter White. A journey described by the shows creator Vince Gilligan, explaining he’s “a straight arrow character (Walt) who decides to make a radical change in his life and goes from being a protagonist to an antagonist”. Walt’s change from protagonist to antagonist can best be summarised with another quote from Gilligan, his initial pitch to Sony, “I want to take Mr. Chips and turn him into Scarface“.

Mr. Chips to Scarface” has been with me since I read it. It’s a brilliantly concise premise for Breaking Bad, and one I have been struggling to emulate for Carrion.

I got one half of the equation relatively quickly. Adam Leigh becomes Che Guevara. Adam doesn’t share Guevera’s politics, but when most people think Che Guevera they don’t think of his specific politics, they think rebel, and that’s Adam’s primary characteristic by the end of Carrion.

So by the end of the screenplay, Adam has been transformed from self-righteous policeman into a freedom fighter, willing to take up arms against the oppression of prohibition.

That half of the equation set its complement has taken a little longer to pin down. I’ve found it hard to come up with a policeman with the right amount of character flaws that doesn’t end up being thought of as Dirty Harry. Today I think I might have found my Mr. Chips. John McClane from Die Hard (1988).

The more I think about it, the more it seems to fit. Adam Leigh might be a little darker than McClane but he’s a good hook to hang Adam’s character coat on. I’m still not sure if it works completely.

“I want to turn John McClane into Che Guevara.” Perhaps it works better as a question, “what would turn John McClane into Che Guevara?”

You tell me?

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Struggling with desire

I have been struggling with what Adam wants in the story, his specific desire. As David Mamet might say, what does he want?

The working hypothesis has been, Adam wants to save his sister. This raises the question, how do we know when he has saved her, does he get a prize? “Save” isn’t concrete enough to carry the audience through the various twists and turns of the story to the end.

I have thought of linking it to a location. If he gets her to a specific location has he saved her, perhaps, but it still seems a little nebulous.

His desire simply isn’t primal enough, it’s not a matter of life and death.

What is he saving her from, prohibition? He’s actually saving her from the physical manifestation of prohibition, drug eating insects.

We’ll know Adam has saved Christine if she is alive or dead at the end of the story.

Adam’s desire is to save Christine from becoming carrion.

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Weakness, need, and desire

I’ve been thinking about Adam’s weakness, need, and desire. I was prompted to look at Adam’s story in this way by John Truby’s book “The Anatomy Of Story”.

The thing I find most interesting about Truby’s approach is the end result, a story that delivers meaning through the actions of the hero. Central to this approach is figuring out your characters weakness. This weakness should not just be a psychological weakness, something that is hurting just the hero, it should also be moral weakness, something that is hurting other people.

Working through this idea, I found Adam’s weakness by identifying a virtue in him and pushing it until it becomes oppressive. Adam was an only child until he was fifteen, he developed strong connection with his parents, a sense of responsibility that led him to join the army when he was seventeen. He didn’t want to put the financial pressure on his parents of a university education.

It was the same sense of service that forced him to leave the army and take care for Christine when their parents were killed. Adam’s virtue is his sense of duty, he does the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. The flip side of Adam’s virtue is a propensity for self-righteousness. That feeling of moral superiority derived from a sense that one’s beliefs are of greater virtue than those of the average person.

For me it’s the single most identifiable quality of prohibition, it’s what makes Adam think arresting Christine and John for possession is the right thing to do. He’s doing it for their own good. Just as prohibitionist think they know what is best for an individual, Adam thinks he knows what’s best for Christine.

After I fixed in my head Adam’s weakness I then had to tease out his need. The need is what Adam must fulfil within himself in order to have a better life. This led me to look a the quality that is farthest from self-righteousness, the quality of humility. If Adam is to have a better life by the end of the story he needs to discover humility, he needs to be humble.

Adam’s weakness: He is self-righteous (psychological), tries to control Christine (moral), enforces prohibition.

Adam’s need: He needs to learn how to be humble (psychological), stop controlling Christine (moral), fight prohibition.

The other key element of this equation is Adam’s desire. Desire is what the hero wants in the story. Although it is intimately connected to the hero’s need it’s not the same thing. I’ve been working under the presupposition that Adam’s desire is to save Christine. The question then becomes, how do I know he has saved her?

Until that solidifies within the story I am forced to wander the plot looking for an answer.

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A treatment for Carrion

What follows is the most recent stage in a page-one redraft of Carrion. Yesterday I submitted this treatment to the Euroscript Screen Story Competition 2012 primarily because it gave me a deadline. I like deadlines, they focus the mind, give me reason to make a decision, and stop exploring the myriad of options available when developing a character and their story. When my partner read it, she thought “it’s very pro-drugs”. I don’t disagree, but I think it’s less pro-drug, and more anti-prohibition.

Carrion is a science fiction thriller about the cruelty of prohibition.

The last few years have been tough on ADAM LEIGH. First his marriage disintegrates. Torn apart by the rigours of army life. Then his parents die in a car crash. Leaving him sole guardian of a teenage sister he hardly knows. He tries to take care of CHRISTINE. Buys himself out of the army. Moves back into the family home. Takes a job with the police. But when growing pains amplify Christine’s grief into rebellion. He struggles to cope.

Outraged by her drug use. He becomes increasingly self-righteous. Until she escapes his tyranny. Finds solace with boyfriend JOHN QUAYS. Things between Adam and Christine come to a head when Adam has to sell the family home. Christine is furious. They fight. Adam snaps. Arrests Christine and John for possession.

Six months later. The war on drugs escalates. Swarms of drug eating insects are released by the government.

Seemingly unconcerned Christine and John still visit their dealer. Stock-up for the weekend’s party. They’re planning a two-fingered salute to new “Code 10” laws that will bar drug-user access to healthcare.

Meanwhile Adam arrives at the house of policeman ANTHONY REINER. His daughter is dead. Needle junked in her vein. It looks like an overdose. But when Adam finds evidence of a struggle. Suspects foul play. He does his job. And arrests Reiner.

That night. While Christine and John deal to their friends. Enjoy a hedonistic mix of music and recreational drugs. Adam questions Reiner.

By morning. An unrepentant Reiner admits he killed his daughter. Expresses an evangelical wish to see all junkies’ dead. A wish that might come true. Because when Christine and John arrive home. Rack out a two line nightcap. A swarm of insects attack them.

As the swarm rips through the city. Christine and John drag each other to the local hospital. Only to be turned away. “Code 10” laws prohibit their treatment. Threaten their arrest.

Out of options the pair hole up. Self-medicate on what’s left of their stash. But when John starts to spit blood. A desperate Christine goes to Adam for help.

Still trying to maintain the status quo. Adam puts the law first. And cruelly turns her away. But his loyalty is not reciprocated. Because later that day. The CPS judge there is “no case to answer”. And discharge Reiner. The murderer’s release leaves Adam feeling betrayed. Gives him a galvanising glimpse of the hostilities to come.

So when John delivers news of Christine’s arrest. Guilt drives him to the station where she is being held. Fighting through the riotous crowd of users. He argues with belligerent colleagues. Until they take him to see Christine. Horrified by the abuse she has suffered. He orders a doctor. But his pleas are met with threats of arrest. So when the rioters storm the station. Adam takes his chance. And helps Christine escape.

Desperately in need of pain relief. Christine persuades Adam to drive them north to their supplier. But all they find when they get there is a dead dealer. An eaten stash. And a gang of vigilantes who what to kill them.

They barely escape with their lives. Only to have John succumb to his insect infestation. When the swarm explodes from his corpse. Adam struggle to save Christine. Drags her free. Manages to contain the swarm in the car.

Devastated by John’s death. Confronted by her fate. She is inconsolable. Adam is forced to dig deep. Marshal every bit of empathy he has. And probably for the first time ever. Connects with Christine.

Determined to keep her safe. Intent on escaping the embattled city. Adam steals a car. But when they run into a police checkpoint. He defies the law. Behaves like a criminal. And flees the scene.

Pursued by the police. Hemmed in. They abandon the vehicle. Escape on foot. Find refuge at the home of Christine’s friend. But when her friends turn on Adam. Blame him for their troubles. He confounds their expectations by volunteering to go for help.

Chasing rumours there is a territory controlled by dealers. Adam leaves Christine with her friends. And heads south. Moving fast. He dodges the police. Evades vigilantes. Hides from an army patrol. Only to be captured by a gang of insurgents.

Desperate to get Christine the help she needs. He supplicates himself. Asks a junkie for help. SEXTON takes pity. Follows Adam back to the house. But as his gang triage the household. Administer doses of smack to those who need it. A police snatch squad rolls up.

The fire-fight that follows threatens to kill them all. But when Adam sacrifices himself for Christine. Runs interference with Sexton. Christine and the others escape.

When the police finally raid the house. Reiner is first to breach the barricade. First to discover their escape. First to give chase. But when Adam takes a stand. And fights Reiner. Fights prohibition. He wins a minor victory. And takes Reiner hostage.

With Reiner in tow. Adam and Sexton rendezvous with the others. Head south. Find they’re cut off by military lines. And have to take refuge in the Leigh family home.

As they plan their route through. Christine’s condition worsens. The insects inside her start to gnaw their way out. Adam watches in horror as she vomits blood. He does his best to comfort her. But he’s helpless. All he can do is cradle her in his arms. And watch her die.

Broken hearted. He reacts violently when Reiner mocks her death. Grabs a syringe of smack from Sexton. And sends Reiner to hell. Stabs him with the shot. Leaves him for the swarm of insects that explode from her corpse.

Overwhelmed by grief. Adam refuses to move. Until screams draw him outside. A woman pleads for her life as soldiers tie a noose round her neck. Loop it over a lamp-post. Yank her into the air. Adam snaps. Picks up a gun. And attacks the soldiers. When the shooting’s over. The soldiers are dead. The woman is saved. And Adam is an insurgent.

Humbled by her gratitude. Accepting solace from a junkie. He follows Sexton south. Past a defiant slogan daubed on the wall. “THEY DON’T WANT US. THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL US. WE’RE FIGHTING BACK.”

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Identity foreclosure

I’ve been reading William Indick’s Psychology for Screenwriters. It offers an insight into the way psychology can be used to build the conflict within a screenplay.

Early in the book is a chapter about developmental psychologist Erik Erikson. Erikson was a neo-Freudian, best know for his theory on psychosocial development across the entire lifespan. Anyway, when thinking about a character’s identity crisis, Indick urges writers to “keep in mind the element of “moratorium”; the stage of actively searching that precedes identity achievement”.

The thing that interested me most about this notion, especially in relation to Carrion, is the element of “foreclosure” in Erikson’s model. Foreclosure is “the danger of ending the search too early and settling on an identity supplied by others rather than a personally meaningful identity achieved through self-discovery”.

I think Adam has a foreclosed identity.

Until his sister Christine was born in his late teens he was an only child. This meant he was the sole beneficiary of his parents emotional, physical, and financials resources. The affiliation he felt for his parents meant that he ended his search for identity too early, accepts their authority, and foreclosed on their’s. So when he joins the army a couple of years after Christine’s arrival, he was swapping one family dynamic for another.

Indick sights Spike Lee’s “Malcolm X” as an example of a story specifically about moratorium. Malcolm X is a story about one man’s “life-long search for a meaningful sense of personal identity”. Just as Adam submits himself to a career of service, first to the military, then to the police, “Malcolm submits himself completely to the Nation of Islam”.

Both men accept a foreclosed identity, identities “originating from without rather than from within”. It is only when Malcolm comes into conflict with the Nation of Islam, and Adam comes into conflict with the insects, prohibition, and the government, do they have to look into themselves to find an identity personal to them.

In the same way as Malcolm “must dig within his own soul and find a religion and philosophy that is personal to him as an individual”, Adam is forced to look within himself to find an identity that is less intolerant, allows for personal freedom, and accepts his sister.

To expand the idea a little, I also think if “society” were a personality, society might have accepted a foreclosed identity when it comes to drug use. The war on drugs is an identity supplied from without, rather than from within. Official institutions routinely repeat the mantra “drugs are dangerous” without considering they are no more or less dangerous than sanctioned drugs like alcohol.

Does this mean society has settled on a foreclosed identity? I don’t know, it certainly seems that way.

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Plotting character change

I’ve started using index cards again. I’ve used them in the past to set out scenes, but found it lacking as a writing technique.

The difference this time is I’ve been using them in combination with a technique that was described to me by Charles Harris at his Exciting Treatments workshop, that allows you to quickly develop the “inner change” of your character.

For example your character might start out “naive” and end up “insightful”. Between those two states of being the character might progress from “naive” to “curious” to “confused” to “disappointed” to “determined” to “inspired” before becoming “insightful”.

The technique involves describing the various ways you show character through the obstacles they encounter, and actions they take. Ask yourself, what stands in their way, and what action would this kind of person take now? It’s a very effective way of building plot and character simultaneously.

It can be done on a bit of paper, but I’ve started doing it with cards. Using cards allows things to be changed easily, without having to confuse yourself with the layers of scribble that inevitable build up when scrawling on a bit of paper.

The other thing that I have found helpfully is to change the sequence of the cards. When it was shown to me, the “inner story step” was presented as a column on the left, with the characters action described in a column on the right.

I start with three columns. Left to right they read, outer obstacle, inner change, action. This layout allows me to construct sentences that describe the characters development. For example. Adam is outraged at Christine’s drug use.feels self-righteous, so arrests Christine.

Adam’s outer obstacle is Christine’s drug use. His inner story step is self-righteousness. The action he takes is to arrest his sister.

As with most writing techniques that work for me, it’s simple.

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Single paragraph treatment

Just over a week ago I attended Euroscript‘s Exciting Treatments workshop run by Charles Harris. Using some of the things I was shown on the workshop. I have written a single paragraph treatment for Carrion.

Carrion is a science fiction thriller set in a contemporary future where the animosity to drug use is evangelical. When government agents release a plague of drug eating insects. A self-righteous policeman is forced to confront his intolerance. After his drug using sister is attacked by the swarm. As users start to fight back. And the war on drugs escalates into civil war. He is compelled to help his sister traverse the embattled city. Fight gangs of vigilantes. Evade police snatch squads. Flee hostile troops. So she can escape to dealer controlled territory. And the hope of a cure. Transformed by what he has witnessed. Realising the inherent cruelty of prohibition. He picks up a gun. And joins the insurgents.

I often find that posting something here solidifies it in my mind. I hope it will stop me tweaking what I have written, and move on to write a longer version.

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Stephen Joseph becomes John Quays

I’m changing the name of Christine Leigh’s boyfriend from Stephen Joseph to John Quays because I think it sounds like “junkies”. As his fate reflects the fate of all the users in the story, it seems fitting to giving him a name that reflects that.

I took it from a track on The Fall’s “Live At The Witch Trials” album “No Xmas For John Quays”.

John Quays is said to be either a reference to seventies politician Hugh Jabaals. His name in the song was changed at the last minute to avoid any libel. Then again, it could be a reference to a former member of The Fall who succumbed to the lure of heroin. My favourite, is that it’s “riff” on William S. Burroughs story “The Junkie’s Christmas”.

A junkie gets the immaculate fix when he gives away his junk on Christmas eve.

Mark E. Smith’s lyrics are significantly obscure to make any definitive interpretation impossible.

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Looking for what’s compelling

In “The Real Reason Why Most Scripts Fail” Cory Mandell argues “most writers haven’t yet trained themselves to write in professional-level compelling conflict”.

The Real Reason Most Scripts Fail

Initially I thought I knew what he meant when he said compelling conflict, but when I started to think about it, I started to doubt myself.

To compel is to force or drive, especially to a course of action.

Conflict is a struggle or clash between opposing forces.

In “The Anatomy of Story” John Truby describes this as the central conflict, and poses it as a question. “Who fights whom over what?” This conflict forces the character to undergo some kind of change.

He describes this change in the form of an equation. W x A = C. “W” is a characters psychological and moral weakness. “A” is the action the character takes. “C” is the change the character undergoes.

The simple logic of the story is described as another question. “How does the act of struggling to do the basic action (A) lead the character to change from W to C?”

While Truby’s equation describes a conflict that forces the character to change, it doesn’t identify what makes a story compelling.

Interestingly compel also means to force to submit, or to overpower. The word compelling seems to imply a force. A character, an event. a circumstance, that asserts its will, subjugating a character. This elicits a response from the character, and leads to conflict.

I think compelling conflict is somewhere in this binary polarisation of these forces. One character asserting their will, the other resists.

Perhaps I am being too literal in my understanding of the term conflict, but it seem to me, when you are looking for what’s compelling, you are looking for what is forced upon someone. That one thing that pushes them to the point at which they must take action.

Truby describes it as the character’s weakness. I’d describe it as the character’s breaking point, the point at which they can take no more, and push back.

At this point the stakes are at their highest, and you have a compelling conflict.