Senior Seminar: Week 3 (albeit half a week late)
Writing is always so daunting to me. I always know how I want a sentence or paragraph to roughly sound, but when i start typing the words, it always falls short. That blinking cursor on any writing program (including this one) is one of the most existentially frightening things of the 21st century. You’re trying to bring something into existence, pull it out of the deep recesses of your imagination and put it to words in an eloquent way, and that fucking line just sits there, blinking, taunting you, daring you to stop it from blinking. I’ve been back at school for a month, and the habits I had last semester (wake up, run, eat, work, go to class, etc.) seem as foreign to me as Cantonese and as distant as a childhood memory. If the making of a film is a labor of love, then the habits one must develop in order to push back against the anxiety and writer’s block so as to get into the flow is a motherfucking tribulation. I stared at my computer screen last night, too afraid to write a word. I finally got in bed around 2 and wrote a single line in ten minutes. This morning when I woke up, it took me half an hour to write a paragraph. But then, it started to just spill out of me. I only wrote a page, but I was able to turn of the judgemental, editing voice in my head. Sheer force of will clearly doesn’t work. What worked this morning was that I allotted two hours to just write, and whatever happened, I’d send it in. Going forward, I’m going to schedule time in increments of single hours to write. Of course, none of this is novel or groundbreaking, but being able to blow the rock away always feels cathartic.
Another reason for my writer’s block over the past couple of days was my worry of poor representation. I had an image of two people walking down a path in the woods in the middle of winter in the Midwest, so I started to ask myself who they were and where were they trying to get. I thought that the instinct for survival would be a good motivator for these two characters, so I started to think what they were trying to survive. Maybe they were trying to get somewhere where they could be safe. Maybe they were running from something. Then I thought, what if they were on a modern Underground Railroad. Then my imagination really started to get going. Something has happened and martial law has been declared. The current administration is no longer satisfied with undocumented immigrants, they are not going after anyone who doesn’t look like they’d belong on a 1950s sitcom. These two characters are sisters and are Hispanic or Latina and they evading the authorities who would like to round them up and send them to a camp somewhere to the south. Because they are American citizens and were born here, they cannot be deported, so they would simply be rounded up and kept separate from “the real America.” I then started to complicate things: maybe the older sister is able to pass as white, while the other cannot; what would that do to their relationship as they attempt to survive this ordeal? I wanted to make these characters interesting and real, but how could I possibly do that as a white male from a privileged background. How could I do these characters justice without proper research. Am I brave enough to attempt to even do this?
I met with Professor Sherman yesterday to go over another script for another class and I brought this issue up with him. I wanted to explore toxic, white masculinity in the other script, and Jon had the idea to apply that theme to this. I was already planning on having a white male character who shelters the sisters. He would appear to a white savior, but then I’d subvert expectations and have him be a coward who sells the sisters out, and they have to fight to survive and save themselves. But I think I’ll go a bit deeper now.
At some point this weekend, I decided to make my film a horror film. If I’m going to make a movie, I want to practice some important aspect. Obviously, one needs to be able to build tension in horror. The second reason is I think I can have my big idea condensed down and subtly articulated in some way within the horror genre. I don’t want to come off as preachy, so I can now slip some lesson into the story. Plus, I’ll be able to have a monster. I want there to be the authorities as a monster, this faceless regime that lacks humanity, something like the Sheriff in O Brother, where art Thou?, but now I can also do something else. I can have this white character who shelters the sisters be a white liberal from a privileged background. But even though he’s attempting to help out, he’s a different kind of bad. I’m thinking along the lines of Kavanaugh here: I’m a friend to women, I have a daughter, a wife, and female friends. Yes but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t sexist and don’t have a toxic monster within you that causes you to do painful things to others, especially women. Developing this character is where I’m going to go from here. My aim is to have two more pages written and have this character fully flushed out by seminar on Friday.
Attached are pictures that show what I’m thinking about for the sequence on the path in the woods.