These days, screenwriters seem to be getting all of the
attention, maybe a little more than they deserve.
When screenwriters apply overused devices to tell stories, they
still get praised for their originality, despite how many times
their contrived devices may have been used by other artists in
other media.
Take for example the story found in “Adaptation,”
which depicts screenwriter Charlie Kaufman writing the actual
screenplay for the movie in the movie. The film received widespread
critical acclaim for something other writers and artists have been
doing in other media for decades: the device of putting themselves
in their own projects.
As successful as this gimmick seemed to work for the movie,
however, it’s unlikely to expect that artists working in
other media would receive similar respect today.
For example, if newspaper columnists were to try the same thing,
you’re likely to end up with something that reads more like a
bored ship’s captain’s log than a Pulitzer-winning
masterpiece.
4:00 p.m.
I just got home from watching “Adaptation.” It was a
great movie, really made me think, but I don’t know why.
5:50 p.m.
I can’t focus. It’s Sunday night, I have two early
Monday midterms to study for, and here I am, still trying to put
together a column.
6:20 p.m.
I’ve contemplated the material again and again, but where
do I start? What type of over-analytical insight can I come up with
to get this column over and down with?
I’m hungry. I’m going to get a slice of pizza first,
then come back to the computer.
Okay, so you get the point.
However, the question still remains: What is it with movie
devices such as the story-about-making-the-story idea that the
critics apparently love so much?
Perhaps it’s because they’re not cultured enough to
realize that it’s been done before, in both paintings and
films, or maybe it’s because it hasn’t been done
successfully in people’s recent memory.
But have critics truly forgotten about movies like
“Singing in the Rain” that used similar devices to tell
their stories?
As with most things, movies especially can appear fresh and new
when an old concept resurfaces as mainstream.
In any other medium, this story-about-making-the-story device
seems contrived, but in films, it works like magic each time in
being an instant critic-pleaser.
Think “Moulin Rouge,” for example, when Ewan
McGregor’s character achieves theatrical success after
writing his musical about his own life, which is what the actual
movie depicts.
Take a closer look at “Adaptation,” where Kaufman
does the same except bases his story on true events in his
struggles to turn a book into a movie.
With films such as these, writers like Kaufman seem to
inevitably receive critical acclaim for their self-indulging
efforts, instead of being judged as desperate narcissists looking
to capitalize on old ideas. In actuality, writers like Kaufman are
doing nothing more than what autobiographical self-help writers do
on an everyday basis, writing about themselves in a contrived
manner.
Although I’ll be the first to admit that I enjoy films
that use these old devices just as much as the next critic, I
can’t help but hesitate in giving full credit for these
screenwriters who have seemingly done nothing more than rebrand old
ideas, claiming them as their own.