Name of the Game: Artistic Control--Or Lack Thereof

Apparently, "Name of the Game" posts are turning into "Soapbox Day" here on the blog, so if you don't want to read a soapbox rant, go away. I'll still love you.

Still here? Ok, then. Bear with me....

It is human nature to want to control EVERYTHING around us.

And when we can't we scream about it.

Literally, scream.

A lot.

And you know who the loudest groups of screaming control freaks are? Thespians. You know how I know? The Oscars, and the critics, and the other stuff about the media becoming white-washed, and all that. Right. First off, I can see their point--it's a problem. What I don't like is some of the reactions to said problem, and these reactions happen because there's a situation you can't control and it makes you mad.

 That's right, whether we are on stage or the screen, we feel this very human need to control everything. And when it blows up in our faces, we throw the equivalent of a temper tantrum. Then we find out afterwards that there was something going on over which we really had no control and have two choices: throw a bigger tantrum, or move on.

Which do you think is the more mature choice?

I get it. I do. I've done it. During a production of one of my plays back in college, I was made aware of a casting decision that I was not happy with. Like, at all. So first I got mad. The way this specific character was cast didn't mesh at all with the idea in my head, my play was ruined, why bother, blah, blah, blah.

That lasted about a day.

And then I got worried. What if, because of this non-meshness, the whole thing was ruined, and I was made a laughing-stock(as we selfish college kids so wary of our "reputation" are wont to think) and branded as a terrible writer?

That lasted about a week.

I KNOW?!?!

After I finally calmed down, I did a little digging. Ok, maybe digging is the wrong word. I happened to be friends with the girl who was cast in part I was worried about, and (post one-day temper tantrum and week-long worry puddle) asked her about it.

You know what I found out? The same day I was throwing my silent fit, the poor director was in a panic because one of her actors had dropped out--the day after he was cast. For no apparent reason. And the week I was worrying, this friend of mine had offered to take on the role plus the other two she had already taken on.

Cue massive helping of humble pie and the very urgent need for yours truly to crawl under the nearest rock and not come out. For days.

My point is this: you never know what goes on behind the scenes. And people don't do things to deliberately cause offense. We choose whether or not to be offended.

True, as artists, we tend to have a bigger ego than some people; which means we think less and usually take the easy route by choosing to take offense and scream about it.

And it isn't just artists. It's other people, too. In the past--two years? three?--news headlines and the media have been rife with "situation A is making group B take action"--for "action" read "are unable to control something and therefore throw big fits to see if it'll make a difference".

Let's not. Because, really, there are things we really really can't control and being offended that we can't control something makes us look like idiots.

That's all. Descending soapbox....

Quirky Monday: BIG Entrances

The earliest drafts of Angels Alley began with Gyp being thrown out the window.

I watch the Fast and Furious movies because they start with a fight and/or a car chase--all the time.

West Side Story is among my favorite musicals because it starts with a fight.

Supernatural began its series with a fire.

Every single other show I've written has someone springing from nowhere in a really big way--one way or another.

Why?

Because I have a thing for big entrances.

I blame Disney. Some of the first movies I remember seeing--Beauty and the Beast, Peter Pan, The Sword and the Stone--they all had someone who got a dramatic introduction. I saw the Disney 1993 version of The Three Musketeers began with A) a torture scene and B)a fencing match followed by a chase scene. Those are big dramatic entrances.

And I love them!

On the one hand, big entrances tend to come off as cornball, which is a delicate balance that writer's have to keep, because on the other hand, big entrances are REALLY REALLY FUN!!!! Like this one:

Which is why my newest project begins with so many of them.