Marcos Galinari
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quarta-feira, 28 de novembro de 2007
Antes que você diga sim
Um pequeno trecho do roteiro:
"Antes que você diga sim".
autor: Marcos Galinari
INT. RESTAURANTE POMPEU’S – DIA
Típica casa italiana com mesas distribuídas entre o salão e a calçada. GIL, um garçom mal humorado que nunca acerta o pedido, carrega sua bandeja num verdadeiro malabarismo.
CLIENTE #1
Como é que é meu chapa?
Eu não tenho o dia todo não!
CLIENTE #2
Cadê o meu chop que não chega nunca?
Pompeu, 60, grita por trás de uma máquina registradora.
POMPEU
Anda logo com isso Gil!
Que moleza é essa?
GIL
Pega leve Pompeu, pega leve...
Sozinho eu não faço milagre não!
Numa outra mesa está sentado Mário, 35. Ele usa óculos, calça jeans e um terno claro desbotado. Está acompanhado de uma mulher bonita e elegante.
MULHER
Nem acredito que estou de volta. Não suportava mais aquele bando de arquitetos babacas metidos a besta e puxando o meu saco o tempo todo.
Gil deixa um prato de bolinhos sobre a mesa de Mário.
MÁRIO
Acho que eu não pedi isso.
MULHER
Me dá um.
Irrita sabia, mesmo assunto, mesmo grupinho, mesmo joguinho de interesses, mesmo...
MÁRIO
Com molho ou sem?
MULHER
Este aqui.
(provando)
Hum, gostosinho.
Um time inteiro de basquete entra no restaurante. Vão se acomodando como podem. Gil deixa um prato e um copo de chop com um velho e outro prato na mesa ao lado.
CLIENTE #2
Meu querido, não foi isso que eu pedi.
GIL
Com licença.
Tira o prato do velho com o bife já mordido.
GIL
Prontinho.
CLIENTE #1
Hei, esta porcaria já está mordida!
CLIENTE #2
Cadê o bendito chop que não chega nunca?
Tira o chop do velho que já estava indo em direção à boca e ao se virar esbarra em uma mulher que vinha chegando.
MULHER
Cretino!
GIL
Perdão.
MULHER
Tire essas mãos de cima de mim!
POMPEU
Gil, seu filho da mãe!
Mário e a mulher bebem, expremidos entre os jogadores de basquete.
MÁRIO
Isso acontece quando se tem certeza de que no fundo, no fundo mesmo duas pessoas serão grandes amigos...
MULHER
Concordo.
MÁRIO
Mesmo?
MULHER
Claro!
É tudo uma questão de ponto de vista.
MÁRIO
Na verdade, o que eu quero dizer
é que ...
MULHER
Nossa, bom mesmo esse bolinho.
MÁRIO
Que tudo é diferente quando estamos apaixonados.
Mas isto não significa esconder os sentimentos nem se distanciar deles...
MULHER
Muito pelo contrário.
MÁRIO
Significa dizer que...
Que nem sempre o que sonhamos corresponde exatamente ao que a nossa mente está tentando nos dizer.
Não sei se estou sendo claro...
MULHER
Meu Deus, que o diga os meus sonhos eróticos!
MÁRIO
Mas o tempo acaba passando e... e de repente não é mais do mesmo jeito como a gente pensou um dia... de repente as coisas mudaram e...
Pausa. A mulher para de mastigar. Expectativa na mesa.
MULHER
Estou levando um fora?
MÁRIO
Não é errado querer ser feliz... todo mundo busca a felicidade.
MULHER
Mário.
MÁRIO
Se eu te enganasse seria bem pior.
MULHER
Mário!
MÁRIO
Sim, é uma separação.
MULHER
Como é que é?
MÁRIO
Separação. Anulação do casamento, partilha dos bens, valor de pensão, essas coisas.
MULHER
Para sempre?
E as crianças, elas já sabem?
MÁRIO
O Rodrigo fica com você.
MULHER
Sempre foi o mais carinhoso.
MÁRIO
Até o final do mês, quando ele viaja para a Índia e se converte em um monge tibetano.
Um vendedor de rosas se aproxima.
VENDEDOR
Desculpe invadir a privacidade do casal...
MÁRIO
Não, obrigado.
O vendedor sai.
MULHER
Você se diverte com isso?
MÁRIO
Não exatamente.
MULHER
E termina assim, sem mais nem menos?
MÁRIO
Nosso advogado já cuidou de tudo.
MULHER
Eu não abro mão do faqueiro de prata.
MÁRIO
Já foi feito um inventário completo.
Tudo dividido, não faltou nada.
MULHER
Incluindo as ações da empresa?
MÁRIO
Você ficou com praticamento tudo.
MULHER
Eu quero vender as minhas ações.
MÁRIO
Só precisa decidir se vai voltar a usar o nome de solteira ou não.
MULHER
Que susto.
O vendedor volta e insiste.
VENDEDOR
Hoje de manhã eu acordei e pensei. Quero fazer um casal feliz. Eu vou fazer um casal feliz. Mas é só hoje. Toma, leve três e pague só uma.
Mário olha feio. O vendedor oferece suas rosas em outras mesas.
MULHER
Não teve medo?
MÁRIO
No início sim. Depois eu me acostumei com a idéia.
Pausa. Comem os bolinhos.
MULHER
Vai me dizer quem é?
MÁRIO
Peguei um com molho.
MULHER
Alguém do trabalho?
MÁRIO
Experimenta este, divino.
MULHER
Da família?
MÁRIO
Talvez, que diferença faz?
Por favor, não force uma situação.
MULHER
Estão juntos há quanto tempo?
MÁRIO
Não piore as coisas.
MULHER
Pensei sobre essa pergunta todos os dias da minha vida nos últimos cinco anos.
MÁRIO
Quer saber...
É uma situação difícil e nova para todos nós.
Gil deixa as bebidas sobre a mesa.
MULHER
Não vai me falar né?
MÁRIO
Faz parte do acordo.
MULHER
(descontrolada)
Seu covarde! Covarde! Você é um covarde sabia?! Olha aqui ó! Ele é um covarde! Covarde! Seu maricas covarde!
E joga os dois copos de bebida no rosto de Mário. Pessoas comentam nas outras mesas. Ele se enxuga pacientemente.
MÁRIO
É o seu vizinho.
MULHER
O quê?
MÁRIO
O seu marido está namorando o seu vizinho.
MULHER
Mentira!
Mário pega o último bolinho.
MÁRIO
Delicioso. Apimentado, mas delicioso.
A mulher tem chilique, cai e se debate no chão.
domingo, 7 de outubro de 2007
Monólogo: A Viagem
É batata.
Já reparou como o relógio corre
quando você está atrasada ?
Algumas coisas correm, outras param.
Taxista então minha filha, parece que tá morrendo.
Ele abre a porta, coloca a sua mala
no bagageiro, dá aquela voltinha no carro,
ajusta o espelhinho...
Meia hora depois e você ainda lá, querendo enforcar o desgraçado.
Depois de quase um dia inteiro – assim, uns dois minutos,
ele olha pra você e diz:
Vamos para onde senhora ?
Eu cheguei cansada, muito cansada.
Quando olhei, e vi aquele corredor enorme
um entra e sai danado pensei...
ah, isso não vai dar certo...
Não tem como dar certo ... não vai dar não, desiste.
Hii ... desiste. Mas aí é que bateu a coragem . Vai sim boba.
Você veio até aqui pra desistir ?
Não desiste não criatura. Não, não!
E corri. Corri feito uma loca. Menina como eu corri aquele dia.
Arrastando tudo, puxando, tropeçando e o corredor lá cumpriiido que eu nunca vi
daquele jeito. Parecia até que aquela coisa não tinha mais fim.
No final, quase morta de tando andar tinha duas. Alí, bem
paradinhas bem na porta.
Com aquele sorrizinho desenhado na cara.
Ah eu nem olhei. Mas também, nem dava tempo.
Passei direto. Esbarrando em tudo mesmo.
Entrei. Todo mundo em pé, criança chorando, criança rindo...
Olha, coisa caindo pra tudo quanto era lado.
Um horror minha filha. Um horror!
E eu naquele agonia né Onde é que eu sento,.
onde é que eu sento...
Foi nessa hora que um moleque veio correndo e pum ! Esbarrou
em mim, grudei de um lado de outro ...
Minha bolsa caiu ... mas olha …
Aí foi batom, foi brinco...
Até aquela continha que tinha sumido eu achei.
E eu naquela correria né...
Procurei o número, achei, pedi licença, sentei.
Era a minha primeira viagem de avião.
Pena que o meu avião não era aquele.
Criatura, eu passei a maior vergonha da minha vida.
Tive que sair de fininho, perdi o meu vôo, perdi o batizado do menino,
fiquei arrasada... arrasada.
Só quem viajou foi minha bagagem.
É, eu já tinha despachado.
Não, ainda não voltou não.
Já reparou como o relógio corre
quando você está atrasada ?
Algumas coisas correm, outras param.
Taxista então minha filha, parece que tá morrendo.
Ele abre a porta, coloca a sua mala
no bagageiro, dá aquela voltinha no carro,
ajusta o espelhinho...
Meia hora depois e você ainda lá, querendo enforcar o desgraçado.
Depois de quase um dia inteiro – assim, uns dois minutos,
ele olha pra você e diz:
Vamos para onde senhora ?
Eu cheguei cansada, muito cansada.
Quando olhei, e vi aquele corredor enorme
um entra e sai danado pensei...
ah, isso não vai dar certo...
Não tem como dar certo ... não vai dar não, desiste.
Hii ... desiste. Mas aí é que bateu a coragem . Vai sim boba.
Você veio até aqui pra desistir ?
Não desiste não criatura. Não, não!
E corri. Corri feito uma loca. Menina como eu corri aquele dia.
Arrastando tudo, puxando, tropeçando e o corredor lá cumpriiido que eu nunca vi
daquele jeito. Parecia até que aquela coisa não tinha mais fim.
No final, quase morta de tando andar tinha duas. Alí, bem
paradinhas bem na porta.
Com aquele sorrizinho desenhado na cara.
Ah eu nem olhei. Mas também, nem dava tempo.
Passei direto. Esbarrando em tudo mesmo.
Entrei. Todo mundo em pé, criança chorando, criança rindo...
Olha, coisa caindo pra tudo quanto era lado.
Um horror minha filha. Um horror!
E eu naquele agonia né Onde é que eu sento,.
onde é que eu sento...
Foi nessa hora que um moleque veio correndo e pum ! Esbarrou
em mim, grudei de um lado de outro ...
Minha bolsa caiu ... mas olha …
Aí foi batom, foi brinco...
Até aquela continha que tinha sumido eu achei.
E eu naquela correria né...
Procurei o número, achei, pedi licença, sentei.
Era a minha primeira viagem de avião.
Pena que o meu avião não era aquele.
Criatura, eu passei a maior vergonha da minha vida.
Tive que sair de fininho, perdi o meu vôo, perdi o batizado do menino,
fiquei arrasada... arrasada.
Só quem viajou foi minha bagagem.
É, eu já tinha despachado.
Não, ainda não voltou não.
sábado, 11 de agosto de 2007
sexta-feira, 27 de julho de 2007
sábado, 14 de julho de 2007
Documentário Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação
Pessoal, este é o link do documentário do Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação produzido pela RTP Portugal.
http://email.terra.com.br/cgi-bin/vlink.exe?Id=PXJXJbzzMRieWVRdeVy8y/wyjVfmqMlIjhAFw7cBj5dNh2r2CKiE7tLe8c4RdeQh&Link=http%3A//www.rtp.pt/wportal/informacao/reportagem/
http://email.terra.com.br/cgi-bin/vlink.exe?Id=PXJXJbzzMRieWVRdeVy8y/wyjVfmqMlIjhAFw7cBj5dNh2r2CKiE7tLe8c4RdeQh&Link=http%3A//www.rtp.pt/wportal/informacao/reportagem/
segunda-feira, 7 de maio de 2007
Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação
A RTP, emissora de tv portuguesa, está produzindo o documentário "Ser herdeiro de uma grande fortuna, mas viver na miséria". É este o drama dos descendentes de Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação. O português enriqueceu no Brasil e depositou toda a sua fortuna num banco inglês.
Há anos que os herdeiros tentam levantar o dinheiro sem resultado. Mais de 100 anos depois, o banco diz que perdeu os papéis e que não tem forma de confirmar o depósito.
Há anos que os herdeiros tentam levantar o dinheiro sem resultado. Mais de 100 anos depois, o banco diz que perdeu os papéis e que não tem forma de confirmar o depósito.
O livro "O capitão dos Índios" - da escritora e pesquisadora Ana Lígia Lira, está sendo adaptado por mim para o cinema. A obra relata a história de Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação e toda a sua trajetória em terras tupiniquins.
Marcos Galinari
quarta-feira, 2 de maio de 2007
"Todas as vezes que eu te amei"
Trecho de diálogo extraído da minha peça "Todas as vezes que eu te amei"
Marcos Galinari
CRIS
Estes dias eu estava arrumando umas coisas e achei um bilhetinho que você me
escreveu ...
SÉRGIO
(surpreso)
Você ainda guarda essas coisas com você ?
CRIS
(lendo)
‘O tempo seca a beleza. seca o amor, seca as palavras. Deixa tudo solto, leve, desunido para sempre como as areias nas águas.
SÉRGIO
(lendo)
‘O tempo seca a saudade, seca as lembranças e as lágrimas.Deixa algum retrato, apenas,vagando seco e vaziocomo estas conchas das praias’.
SÉRGIO e CRIS
(juntos)
‘Esperarei pelo tempo com suas conquistas áridas. Esperarei que te seque, não na terra, Amor-Perfeito, num tempo depois das almas’.
SÉRGIO
Canção do amor Perfeito.
Cecília Meireles. (pausa)
Cris, você não acha que no meio deste caminho, sei lá ... as coisas podem ter se perdido ... parece que tanta coisa mudou ...
CRIS
Depois que nós nos casamos ... eu não sei. Eu não sei ...
Às vezes eu acordo te amando e ... no final do dia
esse sentimento parece que já mudou ...
Sabe, eu me lembro de quando a gente começou a namorar.
Já era serião ... esse seu jeitinho de preocupado, querendo toda hora bancar o
certinho ...
SÉRGIO
(tímido)
Ah, não era assim também. Cris ... (pausa)
Eu ainda me lembro do primeiro beijo ...
CRIS
De repente eu te aguarrei ....
e te dei aquele beijo.
Os dois quase se beijam. Meia luz, música. Eles se abraçam e dançam lentamente. Ao final da música os dois sentam-se no sofá, abraçados.
CRIS
Eu tenho saudades daquele tempo sabia ...
SÉRGIO
Eu também. Ficava esperando sempre, o momento seguinte ...
CRIS
Você sempre protetor, cheio de cerimônia ...
Na frente dos amigos então, sempre se empolgava !
Contava pra todo mundo como a gente se conheceu...
SÉRGIO
A gente se divertia muito lembra ?
E a primeira vez que eu te peguei ...
Cris interrompe.
CRIS
Eu sei, eu sei ...Você já falou isso umas mil vezes !
Me pegou de biquíni tomando sol na laje da casa da minha mãe !
BOBO ! (rindo)
E a primeira vez que nós brigamos ... ?
SÉRGIO
Também !Você jogou fora toda a minha coleção de latinhas de cerveja !
CRIS
Joguei fora não ! Foi pra campanha de reciclagem lá da escolinha da filha da ...
Filha da amiga da ... Você não lembra ?
SÉRGIO
Claro que eu lembro ! Claro que eu lembro !
Aquela FILHA DA ... Você deu todas as minhas duzentas e trinta e cinco latinhas !
Eu tinha latinha até da Antártica Malt 90 Carnaval Bahia 96 Série Dourada Tampinha Azul.
CRIS
(rindo)
Como ?
SÉRGIO
(Rindo)
Mentira ! A tampinha era verde !
Até hoje eu sofro com isso sabia ...
Sofro ! Só de lembrar me dá um aperto assim ó ...
CRIS
Meu Deus ! Como nós éramos terríveis !
SÉRGIO
E a primeira vez que eu viajei sem você ?
CRIS
Não saí do meu quarto, chorei por três dias !
SÉRGIO
Nosso primeiro aniversário de namoro ...
CRIS
Há isso não dá pra esquecer mesmo !
Praticamente me seqüestrou da casa da mamãe.
Passamos a noite inteira dentro do seu Fusca fazendo mil planos !
SÉRGIO
Eu cantei pra você a noite toda lembra ?
CRIS
Lembro ... foi horrível !
SÉRGIO
Foi horrível ?
CRIS
Horrível, horrível !
... mas eu adorei a surpresa. Você foi muito lindinho ...
SÉRGIO
Viajamos o mundo todo naquela noite ...
Fizemos até um pacto !
CRIS
Casaríamos, teríamos filhos ...
SÉRGIO
E o nosso aniversário de dez anos de casamento seria ...?
CRIS
Em Veneza !
Sabe, desde pequena eu sempre quis conhecer esta cidadesinha.
Imagino um lugar assim ... apaixonante !
SÉRGIO
A gente dizia que o amor era tudo lembra ?
Mas às vezes a solidão pode ser ainda mais forte ... ela destrói.
Marcos Galinari
CRIS
Estes dias eu estava arrumando umas coisas e achei um bilhetinho que você me
escreveu ...
SÉRGIO
(surpreso)
Você ainda guarda essas coisas com você ?
CRIS
(lendo)
‘O tempo seca a beleza. seca o amor, seca as palavras. Deixa tudo solto, leve, desunido para sempre como as areias nas águas.
SÉRGIO
(lendo)
‘O tempo seca a saudade, seca as lembranças e as lágrimas.Deixa algum retrato, apenas,vagando seco e vaziocomo estas conchas das praias’.
SÉRGIO e CRIS
(juntos)
‘Esperarei pelo tempo com suas conquistas áridas. Esperarei que te seque, não na terra, Amor-Perfeito, num tempo depois das almas’.
SÉRGIO
Canção do amor Perfeito.
Cecília Meireles. (pausa)
Cris, você não acha que no meio deste caminho, sei lá ... as coisas podem ter se perdido ... parece que tanta coisa mudou ...
CRIS
Depois que nós nos casamos ... eu não sei. Eu não sei ...
Às vezes eu acordo te amando e ... no final do dia
esse sentimento parece que já mudou ...
Sabe, eu me lembro de quando a gente começou a namorar.
Já era serião ... esse seu jeitinho de preocupado, querendo toda hora bancar o
certinho ...
SÉRGIO
(tímido)
Ah, não era assim também. Cris ... (pausa)
Eu ainda me lembro do primeiro beijo ...
CRIS
De repente eu te aguarrei ....
e te dei aquele beijo.
Os dois quase se beijam. Meia luz, música. Eles se abraçam e dançam lentamente. Ao final da música os dois sentam-se no sofá, abraçados.
CRIS
Eu tenho saudades daquele tempo sabia ...
SÉRGIO
Eu também. Ficava esperando sempre, o momento seguinte ...
CRIS
Você sempre protetor, cheio de cerimônia ...
Na frente dos amigos então, sempre se empolgava !
Contava pra todo mundo como a gente se conheceu...
SÉRGIO
A gente se divertia muito lembra ?
E a primeira vez que eu te peguei ...
Cris interrompe.
CRIS
Eu sei, eu sei ...Você já falou isso umas mil vezes !
Me pegou de biquíni tomando sol na laje da casa da minha mãe !
BOBO ! (rindo)
E a primeira vez que nós brigamos ... ?
SÉRGIO
Também !Você jogou fora toda a minha coleção de latinhas de cerveja !
CRIS
Joguei fora não ! Foi pra campanha de reciclagem lá da escolinha da filha da ...
Filha da amiga da ... Você não lembra ?
SÉRGIO
Claro que eu lembro ! Claro que eu lembro !
Aquela FILHA DA ... Você deu todas as minhas duzentas e trinta e cinco latinhas !
Eu tinha latinha até da Antártica Malt 90 Carnaval Bahia 96 Série Dourada Tampinha Azul.
CRIS
(rindo)
Como ?
SÉRGIO
(Rindo)
Mentira ! A tampinha era verde !
Até hoje eu sofro com isso sabia ...
Sofro ! Só de lembrar me dá um aperto assim ó ...
CRIS
Meu Deus ! Como nós éramos terríveis !
SÉRGIO
E a primeira vez que eu viajei sem você ?
CRIS
Não saí do meu quarto, chorei por três dias !
SÉRGIO
Nosso primeiro aniversário de namoro ...
CRIS
Há isso não dá pra esquecer mesmo !
Praticamente me seqüestrou da casa da mamãe.
Passamos a noite inteira dentro do seu Fusca fazendo mil planos !
SÉRGIO
Eu cantei pra você a noite toda lembra ?
CRIS
Lembro ... foi horrível !
SÉRGIO
Foi horrível ?
CRIS
Horrível, horrível !
... mas eu adorei a surpresa. Você foi muito lindinho ...
SÉRGIO
Viajamos o mundo todo naquela noite ...
Fizemos até um pacto !
CRIS
Casaríamos, teríamos filhos ...
SÉRGIO
E o nosso aniversário de dez anos de casamento seria ...?
CRIS
Em Veneza !
Sabe, desde pequena eu sempre quis conhecer esta cidadesinha.
Imagino um lugar assim ... apaixonante !
SÉRGIO
A gente dizia que o amor era tudo lembra ?
Mas às vezes a solidão pode ser ainda mais forte ... ela destrói.
Regime
Texto: Marcos Galinari
Meu espelho disse que preciso perder cinco quilos. Comecei ontem. Às sete da manhã, para ser mais exata.É automático. Você levanta, toma banho, se troca e já vai logo abrindo a geladeira.Eu falei êpaa! Pára com isso já! Fecha essa boca monstra. E começava alí o meu martírio, quero dizer... regime.E olha que não era nem segunda-feira. Comecei na quarta mesmo, meio da semana. Uma coisa meio auto-punição depois que eu me vi bela e refletida naquele bendito espelho. Mais refletida do que bela na verdade.Deixa pra lá. O importante é... estou empolgadíssima! Torradinha no café da manhã... Magina! Pode tanta coisa. Duas torradinhas. Duas. É o máximo. Água também pode, a vontade. No trabalho, na hora do almoço eu... É, eu almoço no refeitório da empresa. Todo mundo alí, reunido. Não, tem gente que faz de propósito, só pode. Aquela magrela do departamento pessoal. Cafona, horrorosa e fingida. Não sei como não enfarta de tanto comer. E eu lá né, firme. Mastigando a minha alface. Na parte da tarde, só tomei chá. Chá também pode. A vontade. E a noite chegou. Uma sopinha leve, rala, bem rala aliás. Muito rala. Horrível, praticamente água pura a infeliz. Eu disse água? Quase não saio mais do banheiro de tanto tomar água. Hoje é o segundo dia do regime, quatro da tarde. Contados ali ó, todas as horinhas do dia. Ainda estou viva. Agora a pouco eu encontrei sem querer, bem por acidente mesmo, uma barra de chocolade na minha bolsa. Na hora eu me lembrei do espelho. Que se dane o espelho.
Meu espelho disse que preciso perder cinco quilos. Comecei ontem. Às sete da manhã, para ser mais exata.É automático. Você levanta, toma banho, se troca e já vai logo abrindo a geladeira.Eu falei êpaa! Pára com isso já! Fecha essa boca monstra. E começava alí o meu martírio, quero dizer... regime.E olha que não era nem segunda-feira. Comecei na quarta mesmo, meio da semana. Uma coisa meio auto-punição depois que eu me vi bela e refletida naquele bendito espelho. Mais refletida do que bela na verdade.Deixa pra lá. O importante é... estou empolgadíssima! Torradinha no café da manhã... Magina! Pode tanta coisa. Duas torradinhas. Duas. É o máximo. Água também pode, a vontade. No trabalho, na hora do almoço eu... É, eu almoço no refeitório da empresa. Todo mundo alí, reunido. Não, tem gente que faz de propósito, só pode. Aquela magrela do departamento pessoal. Cafona, horrorosa e fingida. Não sei como não enfarta de tanto comer. E eu lá né, firme. Mastigando a minha alface. Na parte da tarde, só tomei chá. Chá também pode. A vontade. E a noite chegou. Uma sopinha leve, rala, bem rala aliás. Muito rala. Horrível, praticamente água pura a infeliz. Eu disse água? Quase não saio mais do banheiro de tanto tomar água. Hoje é o segundo dia do regime, quatro da tarde. Contados ali ó, todas as horinhas do dia. Ainda estou viva. Agora a pouco eu encontrei sem querer, bem por acidente mesmo, uma barra de chocolade na minha bolsa. Na hora eu me lembrei do espelho. Que se dane o espelho.
quinta-feira, 26 de abril de 2007
Writing the Action Script
by John Truby
With a good Action script you can write your own ticket. But Action is the most deceptively challenging genre in Hollywood. What may seem simple and straightforward on the movie screen actually requires careful planning and extremely creative solutions from the screenwriter. Action films are deceptive in a number of ways. Many people think Action movies lack character, plot and theme, but they're mistaken. The best Action films have deep stories, complex characters and a profound effect on the audience. The challenge for the writer is to create compelling characters, surprising plots, and important themes within the limiting structure of an Action piece. Speed is the enemy of the Action writer, despite the ongoing trend to increase the pacing of Hollywood films. Ironically, pure speed is not what thrills an audience. Which is why good Action writers actually try to slow the film down to make it appear faster. I know what you're thinking -- what does that mean? The faster the pace of a story, the less chance you have for surprise. And surprise is the fundamental requirement of plot. As a writer, you take on the role of a magician. The audience looks to you for events they can't predict, but thinking back, realize they should have seen coming. When you move characters down a single path at top speed, turns literally become difficult. The audience can see everything down the path all the way to the obvious conclusion. If you slow the pacing, you give yourself the luxury of putting a few more twists and turns, so the audience can still be surprised, and will continue to pay attention. Tip #1: Give your hero a personal problem You can start your script with a big action scene if you want (some hit Action films do, some don't), then back off. Give the character a personal problem that he must solve simultaneously with overcoming the big action problem. You don't need to take a lot of time with it. But do it. You have now set up the all-important double-track line, contrasting the personal with the action problem. The key then becomes making those two lines appear to the audience to be one. Tip #2: Make them believe first Action stories, by their nature, push the envelope of believability, so you have to convince the audience early that your hero is quite capable. After all, you're showing someone whose ability to act is almost super-human. You almost never see a successful Action script where the hero learns to be good at physical action over the course of the story. Your hero has to have a background of exceptional physical ability from page one. And you will need a scene early on to hint to the audience just how good your hero really is. It doesn't have to be the first scene and you don't want to show all your hero's talents. Just tease them. You not only give the audience a kick early, you allow yourself to push the envelope later without losing the audience. Tip #3: Plot comes from moving from one surprise to another By surprise, I mean surprise to the hero as well as to the audience. And that means you have to hide as much about your opposition as you can. The best Action scripts deal with deception and hidden information, especially about the true nature and identity of the opponent. Great Action scripts are really a battle of wits - it's about who can deceive best and who can think the best. Tip #4: Make the Hero strong, but the Opponent stronger A heavyweight fight where one guy is a stiff is boring. Take a lot of time to figure out some special talents and tricks that your opponent has that will give your hero fits. But don't show them right away. Hold them back. When you do bring them on, bring them fast and furious. You want the hero reeling so he has to dip into all his skills and he has to fight back on feel. These are four of my favorite tips for writing great Action Scripts. As you can see, Action writing is more complex than it seems at first look. If you're serious about nailing that big Action spec, try out our ACTION Audio Course and Software. Good Luck and keep writing! John TrubyJohn Truby coaches top writers for screen and television and has served as story consultant and as a script doctor for major studios and production companies on movies, sit-coms and dramas for television. He is also the creator of the top selling Blockbuster story development software. He founded Truby's Writers Studio where he teaches writing techniques and has created a number of books, audiotapes and other essential tools for the writer, all of which are available through the Writers Store.
Writing Great Dialogue
by Rob Tobin
There is a myth that the ability to write great dialogue is a gift that can’t be learned and can’t be taught. You’re born with it or you’ll never have it. One version of the myth goes something like this: you have to have an ear for dialogue in order to be able to reproduce realistic, believable, crisp, dialogue on the page. Great dialogue does not come from having a good ear for dialogue. It does not come from having some innate gift or talent for writing dialogue. It comes from this: knowing your characters so well that you know what they will say and how they will say it when faced with specific people, situations or events. Now that may seem overly simple and in a way it is – given the same character and same situation, two writers of very different abilities will create greater or lesser dialogue. The dialogue in Good Will Hunting and As Good as it Gets does not come out of every writer’s laptop no matter how well that writer knows his characters. That’s because there’s an added component to both of these scripts and other scripts like these: genius. And genius dispenses with the rules of ordinary life and ordinary writing. But, I firmly believe that if two writers know their characters equally well, if both writers develop those characters fully and if both writers know the other characters in a scene equally well, both sets of dialogue will be of a high quality. Let’s take some examples. One of my favorite films is Good Will Hunting. Let’s take one particularly well-done bit of dialogue from that movie. It’s not just any dialogue, but brilliant dialogue, so it ought to be a great test of my theory that all great dialogue comes from knowing one’s characters. Will Hunting, the main character played (and written) so brilliantly by Matt Damon, goes with his simply-structured childhood friends (including his best friend Chuckie played and co-written by Ben Affleck) to a bar near Harvard, frequented by that school’s Ivy League students. Chuckie spots a small group of pretty young women and decides he’s going to hit on them. So the rough-around-the-edges Chuckie goes up to the girls and pretends to be a student. The girls, who are students, know immediately that he’s full of it, but they graciously go along – besides, Chuckie’s kinda cute, so what’s the harm? As Chuckie fumbles with trying to pass himself onto the targets of his affection/lust, a bona fide Harvard student comes up and arrogantly destroys Chuckie, exposing his lies and his lack of academic credentials and book-smarts. Just as it seems that Chuckie is about to show this guy the intelligence in his two fists, his friend Will steps forward with a brilliant dissertation that ends up being a verbal slaughter of the arrogant Harvard a-hole. Then he ends the dialogue with a very telling sentence: “If you want to take this outside.” Why is this dialogue so brilliant? Because Damon and Affleck knew who their characters were. Not just the main character, Will Hunting, but Affleck’s character, and the character of the arrogant Harvard pissant. The writers also knew what event they wanted to occur in this scene, what events led up to this scene, and what repercussions they wanted this event to have. So who is Will Hunting? Well, he’s brilliant and a polymath. That’s the point of the whole movie. He’s a troubled ruffian; we see that fairly early on. We learn later that he was abused as a child. Although we the audience don’t know about the abuse suffered by Will Hunting at the time this scene in the bar takes place, the important thing is that the authors know about it, so it colors Will’s reaction and his dialogue. Why? Because Will could just as easily have gently taken Chuckie by the arm and led him away from the scene, offering him a free beer, soothing his ruffled feathers and bruised ego, making a joke of it. The dialogue in that case would have been more than a bit different. But you see, the authors knew their characters so well, that the event that did take place, the dialogue that was spoken, was in essence inevitable. This is critically important to understand. When a specific piece of dialogue is the only dialogue that could be spoken in a given situation by a given character to a given character, then that dialogue can seem brilliant, and it doesn’t have to be eloquent dialogue, as long as it’s the exactly right dialogue. “I coulda been a contender” resonates down through the decades even today and can certainly be considered brilliant dialogue for its poignancy and for the fact that it was exactly the right thing for Marlon Brando’s character to say to the specific female character in the particular setting and circumstance he was in at that time. Will, having been abused as a child, has a chip on his shoulder the size of an Oregon redwood. He has undying loyalty to his friends, especially his best friend Chuckie. He was born and brought up in “Southie,” the southern section of Boston, the poor, uneducated Irish section, so he was considered to be white trash. He could have let Chuckie deck the Harvard snot, but then Chuckie would have gotten into trouble. He could have decked the Harvard snot himself, but there were the pretty girls to consider and besides a fistfight would have made him look even more like white trash in front of this Ivy League a-hole. So Will’s only or at least best response is to use the one weapon that would destroy this Harvard moron-in-sheepskin clothing: Brilliance. Knowledge. Erudition. Debating skills. And being right about subjects that the Harvard a-hole should have known about but didn’t because he was educated, but not learned. Will is not educated, but he is learned, profoundly so. What Will said was so perfect, so believable given who he is, where he is, who he is in relationship with, and whom he is saying it to, that it comes across as brilliant. Another important aspect of that scene from “Good Will Hunting” is the fact that we not only like Will, we identify with him – the downtrodden good guy who fights back but somehow only succeeds in digging himself a deeper hole. We’ve all felt like that. Why is that important? Because it matters to us what happens to Will, we hope for him to succeed. Thus in this scene Will does several things that make us feel good and triumphant and vindicated – he bests the snotty bad guy, he impresses the pretty girl, he stands up for his friends. Could anyone write dialogue that brilliant? Maybe not, there is after all a touch of brilliance to the dialogue throughout this brilliantly written screenplay. But still, the elements that led up to that scene and that dialogue are all there for us to see and they are all based on the authors’ complete, profound knowledge of who their character is. There is another factor in writing great dialogue. It’s the understanding that there are four key components to any story, whether screenplay, novel, play, or short story: characters, situations, events, and dialogue. If you’ve read my book “How to Write High Structure, High Concept Movies,” or attended any of my workshops, you’ll know that I’m big on relationships. Well, what’s important to know about these four key components is how they relate to each other in a cause-and-effect way. Throughout a story, these four components will affect and effect and be affected and effected by each other. For example, a character creates a situation that causes him to create an event that leads him and others to be affected by that event, which leads the character to make a statement or revelation (dialogue) that itself causes a reaction (an event) that leads to yet another situation, the stakes rising, the jeopardy increasing, changes happening and leading to other changes and events and dialogue which affect characters who, well, you get the picture (no pun intended). But if you cause these four components to interact in just the right way, you will get the picture and maybe even your name in the credits of that picture. So what role does dialogue play in this? Well, essentially dialogue is just another event (I know, that means there are only three key components to a story – so sue me, math wasn’t my major in college). It’s caused by characters and in turn causes other events and affects other characters. It’s something that happens, that takes place in space and time, and is both a result and cause, just like an event is. When characters speak, they are doing something, performing an act. Great, but how does that help us improve our dialogue? Well, think of it this way: what happens when an event in a story occurs that has nothing to do with the rest of the story? It sticks out like a sore thumb. That’s what happens with dialogue that has nothing to do with the rest of the story. In other words (pun intended), you have to make your dialogue relevant to the story. More than just this, however, is that you have to be aware of the cause and effect of that dialogue just as you are aware of the cause and effect of an incident. If a guy in your story waves his hands around in an unusual way and nothing comes of it, you’re left wondering why he did that. If you find out that the reason he’s waving his hands around oddly is that he’s schizophrenic and thinks that he has magical powers and that with a wave of his hand he can make his enemy disappear or make a beautiful woman appear, then you begin to see the relevance of that odd waving and flailing about. If you take this one step further and have a beautiful woman witness the odd waving and recognize it as the gesture that accompanies a magical spell, then the odd gesture has an effect on another character and maybe on the story as a whole. Maybe the beautiful woman, believing the delusional guy is a sorcerer, befriends him and takes him on a wild adventure with her because she believes he can use his powers to help her. So now the event works – we understand why the event occurs (the guy is schizophrenic with delusions of being a sorcerer), and we understand what effect the event has – it leads to a grand misunderstanding and an even grander adventure. You’ve connected the event to both the past and the future. You must do the same thing to your dialogue – all of your dialogue. Damon and Affleck do this with Will’s dialogue in the Harvard bar scene. The dialogue results from who their character is, where he comes from, the events in his past, and his relationship to the characters in the bar and even to the bar and the university and the area of town and the economic and social class of the people in the bar and in that area of town. Similarly, Damon and Affleck not only create repercussion from the hero’s dialogue, they create the entire rest of the story from it. Because he showed off his intellect and his loyalty to friends and his apparent peaceful way of dealing with adversity in this scene in front of Minnie Driver’s character in the bar, Will brings her into his life and she has the most profound effect of anyone in the script with the possible exception of Robin Williams’ psychiatrist character. Will, in fact, ends up leaving his entire life behind to be with this woman in front of which he just showed off with this dialogue. So you want brilliant dialogue? Make it the only dialogue your character can possibly say given who he or she is, where he or she is, and to whom he or she is saying it. Then make sure you have all your ducks in a row – every event leading up to the dialogue should be believable and every event after the dialogue should be at least partly a result of that dialogue. Finally, make us care about the character so that we’ve got a vested interest in what he or she is saying, and in the results of what he or she says. Do these things and you will find people responding to your dialogue more deeply and excitedly than they ever have. One or two of them might even say that it’s brilliant.Rob Tobin has read over 5,000 scripts as a reader, development exec, and script doctor, and is the author of How to Write High Structure, High Concept Movies.
There is a myth that the ability to write great dialogue is a gift that can’t be learned and can’t be taught. You’re born with it or you’ll never have it. One version of the myth goes something like this: you have to have an ear for dialogue in order to be able to reproduce realistic, believable, crisp, dialogue on the page. Great dialogue does not come from having a good ear for dialogue. It does not come from having some innate gift or talent for writing dialogue. It comes from this: knowing your characters so well that you know what they will say and how they will say it when faced with specific people, situations or events. Now that may seem overly simple and in a way it is – given the same character and same situation, two writers of very different abilities will create greater or lesser dialogue. The dialogue in Good Will Hunting and As Good as it Gets does not come out of every writer’s laptop no matter how well that writer knows his characters. That’s because there’s an added component to both of these scripts and other scripts like these: genius. And genius dispenses with the rules of ordinary life and ordinary writing. But, I firmly believe that if two writers know their characters equally well, if both writers develop those characters fully and if both writers know the other characters in a scene equally well, both sets of dialogue will be of a high quality. Let’s take some examples. One of my favorite films is Good Will Hunting. Let’s take one particularly well-done bit of dialogue from that movie. It’s not just any dialogue, but brilliant dialogue, so it ought to be a great test of my theory that all great dialogue comes from knowing one’s characters. Will Hunting, the main character played (and written) so brilliantly by Matt Damon, goes with his simply-structured childhood friends (including his best friend Chuckie played and co-written by Ben Affleck) to a bar near Harvard, frequented by that school’s Ivy League students. Chuckie spots a small group of pretty young women and decides he’s going to hit on them. So the rough-around-the-edges Chuckie goes up to the girls and pretends to be a student. The girls, who are students, know immediately that he’s full of it, but they graciously go along – besides, Chuckie’s kinda cute, so what’s the harm? As Chuckie fumbles with trying to pass himself onto the targets of his affection/lust, a bona fide Harvard student comes up and arrogantly destroys Chuckie, exposing his lies and his lack of academic credentials and book-smarts. Just as it seems that Chuckie is about to show this guy the intelligence in his two fists, his friend Will steps forward with a brilliant dissertation that ends up being a verbal slaughter of the arrogant Harvard a-hole. Then he ends the dialogue with a very telling sentence: “If you want to take this outside.” Why is this dialogue so brilliant? Because Damon and Affleck knew who their characters were. Not just the main character, Will Hunting, but Affleck’s character, and the character of the arrogant Harvard pissant. The writers also knew what event they wanted to occur in this scene, what events led up to this scene, and what repercussions they wanted this event to have. So who is Will Hunting? Well, he’s brilliant and a polymath. That’s the point of the whole movie. He’s a troubled ruffian; we see that fairly early on. We learn later that he was abused as a child. Although we the audience don’t know about the abuse suffered by Will Hunting at the time this scene in the bar takes place, the important thing is that the authors know about it, so it colors Will’s reaction and his dialogue. Why? Because Will could just as easily have gently taken Chuckie by the arm and led him away from the scene, offering him a free beer, soothing his ruffled feathers and bruised ego, making a joke of it. The dialogue in that case would have been more than a bit different. But you see, the authors knew their characters so well, that the event that did take place, the dialogue that was spoken, was in essence inevitable. This is critically important to understand. When a specific piece of dialogue is the only dialogue that could be spoken in a given situation by a given character to a given character, then that dialogue can seem brilliant, and it doesn’t have to be eloquent dialogue, as long as it’s the exactly right dialogue. “I coulda been a contender” resonates down through the decades even today and can certainly be considered brilliant dialogue for its poignancy and for the fact that it was exactly the right thing for Marlon Brando’s character to say to the specific female character in the particular setting and circumstance he was in at that time. Will, having been abused as a child, has a chip on his shoulder the size of an Oregon redwood. He has undying loyalty to his friends, especially his best friend Chuckie. He was born and brought up in “Southie,” the southern section of Boston, the poor, uneducated Irish section, so he was considered to be white trash. He could have let Chuckie deck the Harvard snot, but then Chuckie would have gotten into trouble. He could have decked the Harvard snot himself, but there were the pretty girls to consider and besides a fistfight would have made him look even more like white trash in front of this Ivy League a-hole. So Will’s only or at least best response is to use the one weapon that would destroy this Harvard moron-in-sheepskin clothing: Brilliance. Knowledge. Erudition. Debating skills. And being right about subjects that the Harvard a-hole should have known about but didn’t because he was educated, but not learned. Will is not educated, but he is learned, profoundly so. What Will said was so perfect, so believable given who he is, where he is, who he is in relationship with, and whom he is saying it to, that it comes across as brilliant. Another important aspect of that scene from “Good Will Hunting” is the fact that we not only like Will, we identify with him – the downtrodden good guy who fights back but somehow only succeeds in digging himself a deeper hole. We’ve all felt like that. Why is that important? Because it matters to us what happens to Will, we hope for him to succeed. Thus in this scene Will does several things that make us feel good and triumphant and vindicated – he bests the snotty bad guy, he impresses the pretty girl, he stands up for his friends. Could anyone write dialogue that brilliant? Maybe not, there is after all a touch of brilliance to the dialogue throughout this brilliantly written screenplay. But still, the elements that led up to that scene and that dialogue are all there for us to see and they are all based on the authors’ complete, profound knowledge of who their character is. There is another factor in writing great dialogue. It’s the understanding that there are four key components to any story, whether screenplay, novel, play, or short story: characters, situations, events, and dialogue. If you’ve read my book “How to Write High Structure, High Concept Movies,” or attended any of my workshops, you’ll know that I’m big on relationships. Well, what’s important to know about these four key components is how they relate to each other in a cause-and-effect way. Throughout a story, these four components will affect and effect and be affected and effected by each other. For example, a character creates a situation that causes him to create an event that leads him and others to be affected by that event, which leads the character to make a statement or revelation (dialogue) that itself causes a reaction (an event) that leads to yet another situation, the stakes rising, the jeopardy increasing, changes happening and leading to other changes and events and dialogue which affect characters who, well, you get the picture (no pun intended). But if you cause these four components to interact in just the right way, you will get the picture and maybe even your name in the credits of that picture. So what role does dialogue play in this? Well, essentially dialogue is just another event (I know, that means there are only three key components to a story – so sue me, math wasn’t my major in college). It’s caused by characters and in turn causes other events and affects other characters. It’s something that happens, that takes place in space and time, and is both a result and cause, just like an event is. When characters speak, they are doing something, performing an act. Great, but how does that help us improve our dialogue? Well, think of it this way: what happens when an event in a story occurs that has nothing to do with the rest of the story? It sticks out like a sore thumb. That’s what happens with dialogue that has nothing to do with the rest of the story. In other words (pun intended), you have to make your dialogue relevant to the story. More than just this, however, is that you have to be aware of the cause and effect of that dialogue just as you are aware of the cause and effect of an incident. If a guy in your story waves his hands around in an unusual way and nothing comes of it, you’re left wondering why he did that. If you find out that the reason he’s waving his hands around oddly is that he’s schizophrenic and thinks that he has magical powers and that with a wave of his hand he can make his enemy disappear or make a beautiful woman appear, then you begin to see the relevance of that odd waving and flailing about. If you take this one step further and have a beautiful woman witness the odd waving and recognize it as the gesture that accompanies a magical spell, then the odd gesture has an effect on another character and maybe on the story as a whole. Maybe the beautiful woman, believing the delusional guy is a sorcerer, befriends him and takes him on a wild adventure with her because she believes he can use his powers to help her. So now the event works – we understand why the event occurs (the guy is schizophrenic with delusions of being a sorcerer), and we understand what effect the event has – it leads to a grand misunderstanding and an even grander adventure. You’ve connected the event to both the past and the future. You must do the same thing to your dialogue – all of your dialogue. Damon and Affleck do this with Will’s dialogue in the Harvard bar scene. The dialogue results from who their character is, where he comes from, the events in his past, and his relationship to the characters in the bar and even to the bar and the university and the area of town and the economic and social class of the people in the bar and in that area of town. Similarly, Damon and Affleck not only create repercussion from the hero’s dialogue, they create the entire rest of the story from it. Because he showed off his intellect and his loyalty to friends and his apparent peaceful way of dealing with adversity in this scene in front of Minnie Driver’s character in the bar, Will brings her into his life and she has the most profound effect of anyone in the script with the possible exception of Robin Williams’ psychiatrist character. Will, in fact, ends up leaving his entire life behind to be with this woman in front of which he just showed off with this dialogue. So you want brilliant dialogue? Make it the only dialogue your character can possibly say given who he or she is, where he or she is, and to whom he or she is saying it. Then make sure you have all your ducks in a row – every event leading up to the dialogue should be believable and every event after the dialogue should be at least partly a result of that dialogue. Finally, make us care about the character so that we’ve got a vested interest in what he or she is saying, and in the results of what he or she says. Do these things and you will find people responding to your dialogue more deeply and excitedly than they ever have. One or two of them might even say that it’s brilliant.Rob Tobin has read over 5,000 scripts as a reader, development exec, and script doctor, and is the author of How to Write High Structure, High Concept Movies.
terça-feira, 10 de abril de 2007
Brasil Colonial: saga de comerciante português ganha roteiro para cinema
A história do milionário comerciante português Manoel Vicente D'Anunciação, que viveu no Brasil no século 19 e cujos herdeiros travam uma batalha para recuperar a herança, será transformada em roteiro de filme.
O publicitário e roteirista brasileiro Marcos Galinari, 32 anos, aceitou o desafio de transformar a saga do comerciante português, no interior de Pernambuco, numa história que poderá ir às salas de cinema.
"Achei a história fascinante, de um português que veio para o Brasil apenas com a roupa do corpo e que construiu um verdadeiro império, com todos os desdobramentos para um ótimo roteiro de filme", disse o roteirista à Agência Lusa.
"É também uma história cheia de mistérios porque ninguém sabe até hoje o que fazia o comerciante em Portugal e muito menos porque escolheu o longínquo Estado de Pernambuco para imigrar", afirmou.
O roteirista está baseando o seu texto no livro "Sangue, Suor e Riqueza - A história de um mito do agreste e sertão pernambucanos", escrito pela tetraneta do comerciante, a estudante de Filosofia Ana Lígia Lira.
"É uma história do período do Brasil colonial, mas com muitos elementos contemporâneos, como a disputa judicial da família pela herança que se arrasta até aos dias atuais", afirmou Galinari.
Após a conclusão do roteiro, até o fim deste ano, o roteirista planeja apresentar a primeira versão do roteiro do filme a "todos os interessados" em levar a história do comerciante para os cinemas.
SagaManuel Vicente D'Anunciação, cujos herdeiros em Portugal ainda não são conhecidos, desembarcou em 1820 em Recife, então um dos mais movimentados portos da colônia portuguesa.
Logo depois instalou-se a 216 quilômetros de Recife, na distante cidade de Pesqueira, interior de Pernambuco, uma região muito pobre e árida.
Ao longo da sua vida, dedicou-se à exploração de ouro, pedras preciosas e madeira, além do comércio de algodão, cana-de-açúcar, bovinos e escravos.
Quando morreu, em 1889, era um dos homens mais ricos da época, deixando uma fortuna incalculável, entre imóveis, barras de ouro, jóias, ações de uma empresa norte-americana, escravos e muito dinheiro.
A fortuna de Manuel Vicente D'Anunciação teria sido depositada no The London Bank & South America Limited, atual Lloyds Bank PLC, em 13 de junho de 1878, pouco antes de sua morte.
Entre os bens depositados, estavam 150 barras de ouro, no total de 1.537,5 quilos, 314 pedras preciosas, um diamante em bruto com 3,167 quilos, cordões de prata, 20 mil libras esterlinas, crucifixos e colares de ouro.
Batalha judicialDesde 1980, os herdeiros brasileiros do comerciante travam uma das mais longas batalhas judiciais do Estado de Pernambuco para provar a existência do espólio milionário.
Os advogados do banco londrino argumentam, na defesa apresentada no processo judicial, que não foi localizada a suposta ficha do depósito bancário efetuado por Manoel Vicente D'Anunciação.
Em setembro do ano passado, advogados da família do comerciante apresentaram um recurso ao Supremo Tribunal Federal (STF), que ainda não se manifestou sobre o caso.
Terra Magazine
Outros links:
Jornal de Notícias
http://jn.sapo.pt/2007/04/04/ultima/vida_portugues_pode_filme.html
Site UOL
http://diversao.uol.com.br/ultnot/lusa/2007/04/03/ult3680u498.jhtm
Lusa: Agência de Notícias de Portugal
http://www.agencialusa.com.br/index.php?iden=7306
The Five S's of Screenwriting
by Kate Wright
Working with Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Jason Miller and the legendary Tennessee Williams offered me a tremendous entrée into the magical world of storytelling. As American icons, their extraordinary talent inspired the world; and as screenwriters, their remarkable ability to work through the visceral process of storytelling taught me that great stories communicate simple truths that reflect the poetic dimensions of the human soul. Not only do powerful characters help us understand our lives, their stories reflect our core values as human beings. But how do we create these ideas and feelings as a story for the big screen? How can we be certain that a screenplay delivers the maximum impact, both emotionally, and as entertainment? Here are five steps from the trenches – the Five S’s of Screenwriting – that invite you into the process: 1) Story 2) Storytelling 3) Structure 4) Sequences and 5) Spine. Story Story creates the deeper understanding about human nature that we experience when we hear or see what has happened to another human being. Whether it’s an incident in the life of someone we know, the true-life experience of someone in the news, the adventures of a fictional character, or the heroic life of a compelling historical figure, we are fascinated by the progression of events that a human being encounters, and this progression of events is called plot. However, what engages our imagination on a human level is how the main character reacts to this progression of events, and this cumulative insight is called story. A good story features a main character, or protagonist, who confronts a strong moral choice. This is true in comedy as well as drama, and the best stories feature a protagonist who struggles with identifiable human flaws. The moral choice can be very simple or complex, but it must test the inner moral strength of the main character against his human flaws, not just toward achieving his outward goal, but through his internal transformation, which occurs in his conscience and emotional life. As the story progresses, the hero confronts other characters and situations that support, negate, and challenge his ability to overcome the odds and achieve his goal, but what is satisfying to the audience is the internal triumph that occurs throughout the external struggle, such that, at the end of the story, the audience understands in a profound way what the story is about. Storytelling Storytelling is how we tell the story. It’s a process, rather than a formula. Storytelling begins with defining what the story is about as an idea. This is usually called theme, although theme is more subtle than an abstract idea. It’s what we feel about the story, as revealed through the moral dilemma of the main character, in opposition to other characters. For example, if you were writing a story about freedom, an interesting approach would be to create a world where the main character longs for freedom, but is subjected to servitude by his life situation, or imprisoned as a consequence of his actions. Alternately, if you were creating a story with trust at its dramatic center, there would be strong elements of betrayal within the opposing elements and characters of the story. The second major storytelling decision is defining where the story begins. Most writers take the easy way out. They begin with back story. The result is a story that never takes off until about page 40. Ugh! The preferable approach is to pinpoint the theme of the story, based on the main character’s inner conflict. Die Hard, starring Bruce Willis, is a great example. The story begins with a man who is afraid to fly whose goal is to win back the love and respect of his family. He confronts a hostage situation involving his estranged wife, and all of a sudden, his courage is tested to the max. The combination of his internal conflict and simple goal, together with the challenge of the hostage situation sets the story into fast motion, from beginning to end. The third storytelling decision is choosing the genre that tells the story. Genre tells the audience how they should feel about the story, whether they should laugh, smile, cry, think, scream, or just enjoy the ride. Genre is so crucial to the movie-going experience, some screenwriters begin with a genre, and then create the idea and story concept. The fourth storytelling task is creating a point-of-view character within the story. This character interacts with the main character throughout the story to help the audience understand what is going on inside the main character. Interestingly, the point-of-view character also serves as the storyteller inside the story through which you, as writer, establish yourself. Although this is a difficult task at the onset, frequently we, as writers, make this decision unconsciously during the first draft. Despite our conscious efforts, the point-of-view character jumps off the page, easily recognizable by readers. Structure Structure is form. Screenplay structure is invisible form. Syd Field, who is internationally recognized for his landmark book Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, defines screenplay form in three-act structure better than anyone else, which is why his work is widely respected among professionals: The Set-up establishes the main character and dramatic situation. The Act I Plot Point features the main character’s primary story decision, in opposition to the antagonist. The Mid-Point is the moment when the main character is forced into the antagonist’s world, thereby redefining the story premise, this time by the antagonist. The Act II Plot Point is the lowest point in the story where the main character has been defeated by the antagonist and lost his motivation. The Ending is the last ten pages, wherein the main character realizes a deeper understanding of his struggle, and summons up the courage to defeat the antagonist. Sequences As a producer, I enjoyed learning the art of creating sequences by working with directors and editors in the editing room. This is one of the hallmarks of my approach to screenwriting, which is why it is prominently featured in my upcoming book. Although this can be a complex task, for purposes of discussion, here are some basics to get you started thinking in film sequences: Each scene is made up of a series of shots. Each sequence is made up of a series of scenes. Each sequence builds upon the next sequence to create story progression. Story progression occurs when story sequences build upon one another in a logical way, moving the story forward through character conflict. In a major motion picture, or studio picture, there are usually 12 sequences that build towards the final climax. The story moves forward in 12 major story beats, or film sequences, that reflect the 12-Sequence Story. Here is a shorthand summary: 1. The main character faces a strong moral dilemma in achieving a goal. 2. The antagonist poses opposition, both morally and to the goal. 3. The main character confronts the major complication, but proceeds into the story. 4. The story moves into a new world, and the main character makes an achievement. 5. The antagonist takes control of the story, sets the counter-plot in motion. 6. The main character moves forward, believing himself to be victorious, but finds the antagonist to be equal and opposing. 7. The main character restates the goal, with renewed conviction, but experiences his first setback. 8. The antagonist spins the counter-plot forward, and achieves momentum against the main character. 9. The protagonist experiences defeat at the hand of the antagonist, and loses his moral strength. 10. The protagonist loses the will to achieve his goal, but resuscitates his motivation and moral strength. 11. The protagonist restates his goal and summons up his moral courage. The antagonist restates his mission to destroy the protagonist, as well as his motivation and courage. 12. The protagonist and antagonist prepare for confrontation, but the protagonist experiences an epiphany of moral courage that gives him what it takes to defeat the antagonist. The story resolves with the protagonist understanding his life with renewed meaning and understanding. Spine Just in case screenwriting seems simple, please allow me to introduce you to the world of advanced screenwriting, the world of spine. This is an abstract world where (even veteran) screenwriters labor in pain, sometimes without professional breakthrough, sometimes without financial reward. When the breakthrough finally happens, however, there is magic on the screen! Spine begins with discovering what your story is about through character behavior. It is about creating a unifying depth within your story, character by character, action by action, sequence by sequence, layer upon layer. The surprise is that once you discover what your story is about on a profound level, there are an infinite number of insights and details you can infuse into the material through character behavior, actions, and images. The challenge is to discover this unifying idea or principle that synthesizes what the story is about in simple terms. The genius is to be able to create characters as ideas that morph into character behavior, revealing what the story is about in every frame of the picture. One of the best examples of spine is Tootsie, the Academy Award winning screenplay written by Larry Gelbart and Murray Schisgal, starring Dustin Hoffman, directed by Academy Award winner Sydney Pollack. The original screenplay went through numerous writers, and it wasn’t until Sydney Pollack came aboard to work with the immensely talented Larry Gelbart that they were able to discover what the story was really about. It wasn’t enough to do a comedy about a man becoming a woman. Putting on a skirt is good for a few laughs, but not enough to sustain a movie. The challenge was to create a story about a man struggling with his (chauvinist) flaws, who is forced to become a woman, but by becoming a woman, he becomes a better man. With this paradox as the spine of the story, each and every frame of this marvelous movie feeds the heart of the story. There is a constant demand for writers who can create good stories, especially for the big screen. The fact is, however, over one hundred thousand scripts are written every year, and only a few hundred actually make it. Even then, most do not succeed. Usually the script is the culprit, and the most common script problem is story. Either there is not enough, or the story splinters into more than one storyline because the main character is not developed through a powerful moral dilemma at the center of the story. The market for great screenplays is wide open. The challenge is to develop your own treasure trove of great stories that have never been told. Be bold and original. Remember the Five S’s. Strive to master them. Above all, shoot for the stars. You might make it to the moon! A Writing Exercise Here is a challenging writing exercise that will help you understand what your story is about. It begins with creating a powerful moral dilemma at the center of your story. Think about the narrative of the story you are working on. Identify your main character, and think through the most important dramatic choice he/she makes. Work through why he/she makes the decision, or why not. Take your time. Set the stage for the consequences of either story direction by developing the antagonist. Understanding the depth of conflict within this key character-driven story moment opens the window to discovering what your story is about.Kate Wright is an Emmy Award-winning writer/producer who, as vice president of Interscope Communications, supervised feature film and television projects, including Billy, The Conspirator Saint, Cocktail, and A Mother's Courage: The Mary Thomas Story. She is a senior instructor with the internationally known UCLA Extension Writers' Program. Her first book, Screenwriting Is Storytelling: Creating the A-List Screenplay that Sells! is being published Fall 2004 by Perigee-Putnam. Photograph by Vanessa Preziose
Working with Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Jason Miller and the legendary Tennessee Williams offered me a tremendous entrée into the magical world of storytelling. As American icons, their extraordinary talent inspired the world; and as screenwriters, their remarkable ability to work through the visceral process of storytelling taught me that great stories communicate simple truths that reflect the poetic dimensions of the human soul. Not only do powerful characters help us understand our lives, their stories reflect our core values as human beings. But how do we create these ideas and feelings as a story for the big screen? How can we be certain that a screenplay delivers the maximum impact, both emotionally, and as entertainment? Here are five steps from the trenches – the Five S’s of Screenwriting – that invite you into the process: 1) Story 2) Storytelling 3) Structure 4) Sequences and 5) Spine. Story Story creates the deeper understanding about human nature that we experience when we hear or see what has happened to another human being. Whether it’s an incident in the life of someone we know, the true-life experience of someone in the news, the adventures of a fictional character, or the heroic life of a compelling historical figure, we are fascinated by the progression of events that a human being encounters, and this progression of events is called plot. However, what engages our imagination on a human level is how the main character reacts to this progression of events, and this cumulative insight is called story. A good story features a main character, or protagonist, who confronts a strong moral choice. This is true in comedy as well as drama, and the best stories feature a protagonist who struggles with identifiable human flaws. The moral choice can be very simple or complex, but it must test the inner moral strength of the main character against his human flaws, not just toward achieving his outward goal, but through his internal transformation, which occurs in his conscience and emotional life. As the story progresses, the hero confronts other characters and situations that support, negate, and challenge his ability to overcome the odds and achieve his goal, but what is satisfying to the audience is the internal triumph that occurs throughout the external struggle, such that, at the end of the story, the audience understands in a profound way what the story is about. Storytelling Storytelling is how we tell the story. It’s a process, rather than a formula. Storytelling begins with defining what the story is about as an idea. This is usually called theme, although theme is more subtle than an abstract idea. It’s what we feel about the story, as revealed through the moral dilemma of the main character, in opposition to other characters. For example, if you were writing a story about freedom, an interesting approach would be to create a world where the main character longs for freedom, but is subjected to servitude by his life situation, or imprisoned as a consequence of his actions. Alternately, if you were creating a story with trust at its dramatic center, there would be strong elements of betrayal within the opposing elements and characters of the story. The second major storytelling decision is defining where the story begins. Most writers take the easy way out. They begin with back story. The result is a story that never takes off until about page 40. Ugh! The preferable approach is to pinpoint the theme of the story, based on the main character’s inner conflict. Die Hard, starring Bruce Willis, is a great example. The story begins with a man who is afraid to fly whose goal is to win back the love and respect of his family. He confronts a hostage situation involving his estranged wife, and all of a sudden, his courage is tested to the max. The combination of his internal conflict and simple goal, together with the challenge of the hostage situation sets the story into fast motion, from beginning to end. The third storytelling decision is choosing the genre that tells the story. Genre tells the audience how they should feel about the story, whether they should laugh, smile, cry, think, scream, or just enjoy the ride. Genre is so crucial to the movie-going experience, some screenwriters begin with a genre, and then create the idea and story concept. The fourth storytelling task is creating a point-of-view character within the story. This character interacts with the main character throughout the story to help the audience understand what is going on inside the main character. Interestingly, the point-of-view character also serves as the storyteller inside the story through which you, as writer, establish yourself. Although this is a difficult task at the onset, frequently we, as writers, make this decision unconsciously during the first draft. Despite our conscious efforts, the point-of-view character jumps off the page, easily recognizable by readers. Structure Structure is form. Screenplay structure is invisible form. Syd Field, who is internationally recognized for his landmark book Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, defines screenplay form in three-act structure better than anyone else, which is why his work is widely respected among professionals: The Set-up establishes the main character and dramatic situation. The Act I Plot Point features the main character’s primary story decision, in opposition to the antagonist. The Mid-Point is the moment when the main character is forced into the antagonist’s world, thereby redefining the story premise, this time by the antagonist. The Act II Plot Point is the lowest point in the story where the main character has been defeated by the antagonist and lost his motivation. The Ending is the last ten pages, wherein the main character realizes a deeper understanding of his struggle, and summons up the courage to defeat the antagonist. Sequences As a producer, I enjoyed learning the art of creating sequences by working with directors and editors in the editing room. This is one of the hallmarks of my approach to screenwriting, which is why it is prominently featured in my upcoming book. Although this can be a complex task, for purposes of discussion, here are some basics to get you started thinking in film sequences: Each scene is made up of a series of shots. Each sequence is made up of a series of scenes. Each sequence builds upon the next sequence to create story progression. Story progression occurs when story sequences build upon one another in a logical way, moving the story forward through character conflict. In a major motion picture, or studio picture, there are usually 12 sequences that build towards the final climax. The story moves forward in 12 major story beats, or film sequences, that reflect the 12-Sequence Story. Here is a shorthand summary: 1. The main character faces a strong moral dilemma in achieving a goal. 2. The antagonist poses opposition, both morally and to the goal. 3. The main character confronts the major complication, but proceeds into the story. 4. The story moves into a new world, and the main character makes an achievement. 5. The antagonist takes control of the story, sets the counter-plot in motion. 6. The main character moves forward, believing himself to be victorious, but finds the antagonist to be equal and opposing. 7. The main character restates the goal, with renewed conviction, but experiences his first setback. 8. The antagonist spins the counter-plot forward, and achieves momentum against the main character. 9. The protagonist experiences defeat at the hand of the antagonist, and loses his moral strength. 10. The protagonist loses the will to achieve his goal, but resuscitates his motivation and moral strength. 11. The protagonist restates his goal and summons up his moral courage. The antagonist restates his mission to destroy the protagonist, as well as his motivation and courage. 12. The protagonist and antagonist prepare for confrontation, but the protagonist experiences an epiphany of moral courage that gives him what it takes to defeat the antagonist. The story resolves with the protagonist understanding his life with renewed meaning and understanding. Spine Just in case screenwriting seems simple, please allow me to introduce you to the world of advanced screenwriting, the world of spine. This is an abstract world where (even veteran) screenwriters labor in pain, sometimes without professional breakthrough, sometimes without financial reward. When the breakthrough finally happens, however, there is magic on the screen! Spine begins with discovering what your story is about through character behavior. It is about creating a unifying depth within your story, character by character, action by action, sequence by sequence, layer upon layer. The surprise is that once you discover what your story is about on a profound level, there are an infinite number of insights and details you can infuse into the material through character behavior, actions, and images. The challenge is to discover this unifying idea or principle that synthesizes what the story is about in simple terms. The genius is to be able to create characters as ideas that morph into character behavior, revealing what the story is about in every frame of the picture. One of the best examples of spine is Tootsie, the Academy Award winning screenplay written by Larry Gelbart and Murray Schisgal, starring Dustin Hoffman, directed by Academy Award winner Sydney Pollack. The original screenplay went through numerous writers, and it wasn’t until Sydney Pollack came aboard to work with the immensely talented Larry Gelbart that they were able to discover what the story was really about. It wasn’t enough to do a comedy about a man becoming a woman. Putting on a skirt is good for a few laughs, but not enough to sustain a movie. The challenge was to create a story about a man struggling with his (chauvinist) flaws, who is forced to become a woman, but by becoming a woman, he becomes a better man. With this paradox as the spine of the story, each and every frame of this marvelous movie feeds the heart of the story. There is a constant demand for writers who can create good stories, especially for the big screen. The fact is, however, over one hundred thousand scripts are written every year, and only a few hundred actually make it. Even then, most do not succeed. Usually the script is the culprit, and the most common script problem is story. Either there is not enough, or the story splinters into more than one storyline because the main character is not developed through a powerful moral dilemma at the center of the story. The market for great screenplays is wide open. The challenge is to develop your own treasure trove of great stories that have never been told. Be bold and original. Remember the Five S’s. Strive to master them. Above all, shoot for the stars. You might make it to the moon! A Writing Exercise Here is a challenging writing exercise that will help you understand what your story is about. It begins with creating a powerful moral dilemma at the center of your story. Think about the narrative of the story you are working on. Identify your main character, and think through the most important dramatic choice he/she makes. Work through why he/she makes the decision, or why not. Take your time. Set the stage for the consequences of either story direction by developing the antagonist. Understanding the depth of conflict within this key character-driven story moment opens the window to discovering what your story is about.Kate Wright is an Emmy Award-winning writer/producer who, as vice president of Interscope Communications, supervised feature film and television projects, including Billy, The Conspirator Saint, Cocktail, and A Mother's Courage: The Mary Thomas Story. She is a senior instructor with the internationally known UCLA Extension Writers' Program. Her first book, Screenwriting Is Storytelling: Creating the A-List Screenplay that Sells! is being published Fall 2004 by Perigee-Putnam. Photograph by Vanessa Preziose
quarta-feira, 4 de abril de 2007
Roteiro de "O capitão dos índios"
Acabo de receber da Ana Lígia Lira, escritora e pesquisadora, o convite para uma grande missão - adaptar para o cinema o seu livro "O capitão dos índios". Uma obra baseada na história de um imigrante português que viveu no Brasil do século XIX.
Manuel Vicente D’anunciação, é um personagem real, fascinante, gigantesco. Sua história é realmente fantástica e rodeada por grandes mistérios.
A transposição de uma obra literária seja ela para o teatro, para a tv ou para o cinema, exige sempre um conhecimento e uma compreensão total de todos esses meios. Uma adaptação seja ela qual for, é sempre problemática – principalmente, porque as características e particularidades de cada um são muitas.
Adaptar uma obra literária é também transportar essa história para um outro universo – uma outra dimensão, pois estamos falando em imagens e todas as possibilidades que o cinema permite e oferece. Dessa maneira, podemos recorrer a flashbacks, embutir uma passagem de tempo ou mesmo uma linha de tempo contínua – o tempo torna-se subjetivo. O cinema te dá isso.
Agora, como ponto de partida para esta jornada, eu diria que primeiro – ter uma compreensão total da obra literária que foi concebida pela Ana Lígia e todas as informações advindas de pesquisas que também cercam toda esta história – que são muitas. Só a partir daí podemos encontrar afinidades entre a obra literária, e, finalmente o roteiro final para o filme.
E é essa essência do livro que eu quero descobrir. Descobrir qual o seu encanto e, a partir daí contá-lo através de imagens.
A história de Manuel Vicente por si só já possui elementos dramáticos suficientes para sustentar toda uma narrativa. Sem esquecer é claro, dos outros personagens, que constituem também pilares importantíssimos dentro da obra e são capazes de nos levar a subtramas paralelas também muito interessantes.
Tenho certeza de que o público deve apreciar esta obra, tanto pela história desse português, como também pelo painel da vida brasileira no século XIX dentro de uma paisagem deslumbrante como é o caso de Pernambuco. É realmente uma história que possui elementos universais capazes de despertar a atenção do grande público.
Manuel Vicente D’anunciação, é um personagem real, fascinante, gigantesco. Sua história é realmente fantástica e rodeada por grandes mistérios.
A transposição de uma obra literária seja ela para o teatro, para a tv ou para o cinema, exige sempre um conhecimento e uma compreensão total de todos esses meios. Uma adaptação seja ela qual for, é sempre problemática – principalmente, porque as características e particularidades de cada um são muitas.
Adaptar uma obra literária é também transportar essa história para um outro universo – uma outra dimensão, pois estamos falando em imagens e todas as possibilidades que o cinema permite e oferece. Dessa maneira, podemos recorrer a flashbacks, embutir uma passagem de tempo ou mesmo uma linha de tempo contínua – o tempo torna-se subjetivo. O cinema te dá isso.
Agora, como ponto de partida para esta jornada, eu diria que primeiro – ter uma compreensão total da obra literária que foi concebida pela Ana Lígia e todas as informações advindas de pesquisas que também cercam toda esta história – que são muitas. Só a partir daí podemos encontrar afinidades entre a obra literária, e, finalmente o roteiro final para o filme.
E é essa essência do livro que eu quero descobrir. Descobrir qual o seu encanto e, a partir daí contá-lo através de imagens.
A história de Manuel Vicente por si só já possui elementos dramáticos suficientes para sustentar toda uma narrativa. Sem esquecer é claro, dos outros personagens, que constituem também pilares importantíssimos dentro da obra e são capazes de nos levar a subtramas paralelas também muito interessantes.
Tenho certeza de que o público deve apreciar esta obra, tanto pela história desse português, como também pelo painel da vida brasileira no século XIX dentro de uma paisagem deslumbrante como é o caso de Pernambuco. É realmente uma história que possui elementos universais capazes de despertar a atenção do grande público.
quarta-feira, 28 de março de 2007
Aniversário de casamento
Tenho um carinho especial por este texto. É um monólogo que algumas atrizes gravaram para registro em emissoras e que algum tempo depois acabou dando origem ao espetáculo: 'Todas as vezes que eu te amei'.
Texto: Aniversário de casamento
Autor: Marcos Galinari
É sempre assim.
Todo ano acontece a mesma coisa.
Eu me preparo sabe, eu tento me preparar...
Pelo menos tento.
Tento não ficar surpresa...
Uma mulher da minha idade, já se sente mais segura...
Afinal, a vida cobra esta segurança, esta...
Esta... há sei lá.
Eu sou casada há cinco anos.
Conheci o Sergio meu marido no trabalho.
Numa confraternização da empresa, estas festinhas de final de ano. Eu organizei o encontro. Cuidei para que nenhum detalhe fosse esquecido, ninguém fosse esquecido, nada fosse esquecido.
Foi um sorteio feito assim, meio na hora, amigo secreto.
No final, eu acabei tirando o Sérgio. E o Sérgio, claro, acabou me tirando.
Eu tinha comprado uma agenda, meio neutra sabe, afinal de contas eu não sabia quem eu iria tirar mesmo.
O Sérgio gostou, disse que adorou, que ficou surpreso, coisa e tal...
Eu também fiquei surpresa. Ele não me deu nada!
É! Não me deu nada!
Cento e trinta e cinco convidados e eu fui a única a ficar sem nenhuma lembrancinha. Uminha sequer.
Pode uma coisa dessas? O que o Sérgio disse ?
“Desculpe viu... eu não entendi o convite...
Eu achei que ...”
Ah! Achei, achei, achei...
Esta sempre foi a resposta básica ou melhor a desculpa
clássica do Sérgio foi sempre essa... Eu achei que.
O Sérgio sempre teve uma coisa que me chamou a atenção, desde o início. A ingenuidade.
É, apesar de ficar irritada, eu sei que ele não faz por mal. É o jeito dele mesmo. Mas eu fico irritada.
Não! Irritada é pouco. Eu fico puta, loca!
Hoje, 15 de agosto é nosso aniversário de casamento.
Não, ele não esqueceu não. Também, agora eu já aprendi.
Passo a semana toda deixando bilhetinhos, recadinhos, passando e-mail, torpedo... Tudo isso pra ver se ele não esquece.
É sempre assim. No meu aniversário, faço a mesma coisa.
Só que começo uns 20 dias antes.
Se eu ainda gosto do Sérgio ? Eu só tento não ficar mais surpresa...
Autor: Marcos Galinari
É sempre assim.
Todo ano acontece a mesma coisa.
Eu me preparo sabe, eu tento me preparar...
Pelo menos tento.
Tento não ficar surpresa...
Uma mulher da minha idade, já se sente mais segura...
Afinal, a vida cobra esta segurança, esta...
Esta... há sei lá.
Eu sou casada há cinco anos.
Conheci o Sergio meu marido no trabalho.
Numa confraternização da empresa, estas festinhas de final de ano. Eu organizei o encontro. Cuidei para que nenhum detalhe fosse esquecido, ninguém fosse esquecido, nada fosse esquecido.
Foi um sorteio feito assim, meio na hora, amigo secreto.
No final, eu acabei tirando o Sérgio. E o Sérgio, claro, acabou me tirando.
Eu tinha comprado uma agenda, meio neutra sabe, afinal de contas eu não sabia quem eu iria tirar mesmo.
O Sérgio gostou, disse que adorou, que ficou surpreso, coisa e tal...
Eu também fiquei surpresa. Ele não me deu nada!
É! Não me deu nada!
Cento e trinta e cinco convidados e eu fui a única a ficar sem nenhuma lembrancinha. Uminha sequer.
Pode uma coisa dessas? O que o Sérgio disse ?
“Desculpe viu... eu não entendi o convite...
Eu achei que ...”
Ah! Achei, achei, achei...
Esta sempre foi a resposta básica ou melhor a desculpa
clássica do Sérgio foi sempre essa... Eu achei que.
O Sérgio sempre teve uma coisa que me chamou a atenção, desde o início. A ingenuidade.
É, apesar de ficar irritada, eu sei que ele não faz por mal. É o jeito dele mesmo. Mas eu fico irritada.
Não! Irritada é pouco. Eu fico puta, loca!
Hoje, 15 de agosto é nosso aniversário de casamento.
Não, ele não esqueceu não. Também, agora eu já aprendi.
Passo a semana toda deixando bilhetinhos, recadinhos, passando e-mail, torpedo... Tudo isso pra ver se ele não esquece.
É sempre assim. No meu aniversário, faço a mesma coisa.
Só que começo uns 20 dias antes.
Se eu ainda gosto do Sérgio ? Eu só tento não ficar mais surpresa...
terça-feira, 27 de março de 2007
Monólogo: Taxímetro
Autor: Marcos Galinari
Eu peço sempre pra parar um quarteirão depois.
E ainda fico de olho.
Pelo menos assim eu não dou tanta bandeira...
Ah, quer saber ? Tanto faz também.
A cabeça fica às vezes um pouco confusa...
Dá um nó mesmo.
Um dia desses um cara me falou
por que eu insistia?
Por que eu levava essa vida?
Depois, me contou a vida inteira.
Que era casado, que tinha filhos...
me falou até da sogra dele.
Tem idiota que pensa que eu sou psicóloga,
terapeuta, sei lá o que.
Ficam pedindo conselho.
Como se eu pudesse dar algum tipo de conselho.
No fundo mesmo, eu tô é me lixando pra tudo isso.
Nem tudo é eterno mesmo.
Nada dura pra sempre.
Eu dô risada desses idiotas.
Me divirto com esses babacas...
É, eu sei. A vida não tá fácil pra ninguém, eu sei.
Mas que às vezes eu ganho fácil, ah eu ganho.
Já tive problemas também.
Já levei na cara, amarrei porrada mesmo.
Tive até que correr, deixei tudo pra trás...
Mas no outro dia, eu tô aqui de novo.
Eu escolhi assim.
Não, aqui não! Tá vendo aquele carro?
É, vermelho. Pára ali. Depois daquela esquina.
Eu peço sempre pra parar um quarteirão depois.
E ainda fico de olho.
Pelo menos assim eu não dou tanta bandeira...
Ah, quer saber ? Tanto faz também.
A cabeça fica às vezes um pouco confusa...
Dá um nó mesmo.
Um dia desses um cara me falou
por que eu insistia?
Por que eu levava essa vida?
Depois, me contou a vida inteira.
Que era casado, que tinha filhos...
me falou até da sogra dele.
Tem idiota que pensa que eu sou psicóloga,
terapeuta, sei lá o que.
Ficam pedindo conselho.
Como se eu pudesse dar algum tipo de conselho.
No fundo mesmo, eu tô é me lixando pra tudo isso.
Nem tudo é eterno mesmo.
Nada dura pra sempre.
Eu dô risada desses idiotas.
Me divirto com esses babacas...
É, eu sei. A vida não tá fácil pra ninguém, eu sei.
Mas que às vezes eu ganho fácil, ah eu ganho.
Já tive problemas também.
Já levei na cara, amarrei porrada mesmo.
Tive até que correr, deixei tudo pra trás...
Mas no outro dia, eu tô aqui de novo.
Eu escolhi assim.
Não, aqui não! Tá vendo aquele carro?
É, vermelho. Pára ali. Depois daquela esquina.
segunda-feira, 26 de março de 2007
Characters Make the Plot
by Martha Alderson, M.A.
This year, reviewers have consistently complained about a lack of character emotional development in the movies. At the same time, Hollywood reports a slump in box office sales. Are the two related? Perhaps. Even the top five moneymaking movies for the summer of 2006 were without significant character emotional development. “Although he slams into stationary objects with his customary zeal, Tom Cruise [in Mission: Impossible III] is off his game here, sabotaged by a misguided attempt to shade his character with gray.” Manohla Dargis, NEW YORK TIMES Storytelling involves more than lining up the action pieces, arranging them in a logical order and then drawing conclusions. Yes, dramatic action pulls moviegoers to the edge of their seats. And yes, conflict, tension, suspense and curiosity hook moviegoers. Yet, no matter how exciting the action, the character's emotional development provides the real fascination. Any presentation without a strong human element increases the chances of losing audience interest. “The Da Vinci Code...a couple of crashing boors...” Amy Biancolli, HOUSTON CHRONICLE In many cases, movies rely on star power alone without taking the time to develop the characters in the story itself. Moviegoers may feel an emotional attachment to the star. Ultimately, however, unless they emotionally identify with the main character as a character, moviegoers will detach from the film. Plot Is More than Dramatic Action Plot is made up of three intertwining threads: 1.) Character emotional development 2.) Dramatic action 3.) Thematic significance In other words, the protagonist acts or reacts. In so doing, he or she is changed and something significant is learned. When Stories Get Stuck Stories get stuck because one or more of the three key elements has been ignored: 1.) Concentrating on action only, forgetting that character provides interest and is the primary reason people go to the movies and read books. "Without the first film’s textured relationships, [X-Men: The Last Stand] becomes just another episode..." Colin Covert, MINNEAPOLIS STAR TRIBUNE 2.) Organizing solely around the character and overlooking the fact that dramatic action provides the excitement every story needs. 3.) Forgetting to develop the overall meaning or the thematic significance of the story. When the dramatic action changes the character at depth over time, the story becomes thematically significant. “This second film [Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest] is pretty much all thrills, special effects and nonstop action -- but with virtually no cohesive or compelling story line.” Bill Zwecker, CHICAGO SUN-TIMES The Power of Character In a compelling story line, the characters grow and change step-by-step in reaction to the dramatic action. This growth is not meant to be merely on a physical level. Often, in their zeal of showing off high-tech special effects, moviemakers and screenwriters forget the power of character emotional development. The challenges the characters face must create emotional effects, the deeper the better. An effective way to keep track of these incremental steps is with the use of a Scene Tracker. A scene tracker asks you to fulfill seven essential elements in every single scene, with the biggest being on the character emotional development. Take, for instance, The Crisis. The crisis is an event written in scene that works like any crisis in real life. The crisis serves to shake things up in such a way that the protagonist has to act. The crisis takes on dramatic proportions when it serves as the highest point in the dramatic action plot line so far and, at the same time, forces the protagonist to rethink life as they have always thought it to be. This, in turns, changes their character emotional development at depth. When one scene has such a dramatic effect on both plotlines, the scene serves as a double whammy. This effect is best found toward the end of the Middle or nearly three quarters of the way through the project. If, however, the crisis involves only a high point in the dramatic action without something equal or comparable happening within the character, the story loses its heart. “Calling a summer movie 'action-packed' is supposed to be a compliment, but there's nothing so tedious as nonstop excitement.” Stephanie Zacharek, SALON.COM Sometimes, the crisis takes the form of two separate events written in two separate scenes. In this case, one scene hits the highest point so far in the story for the Dramatic Action plot line and another scene affects the character emotional development plot line separately. These two high points can either occur close together for maximum effect or further apart. Viewers expect and deserve the dramatic action and the character emotional development to build to a fevered pitch toward the end of the Middle. By then, they have been sitting for over an hour. Without some sort of release caused by this sort of big moment within the character, the story becomes just another action drama with explosions and chases and fights. The crisis can be written softly and quietly or as an all-out war. Either way, and whether it comes separately or together, the crisis involves the character on an emotional level in reaction to the dramatic action and ends the long haul of the Middle (a whopping 1/2 of the scene count of the entire project). “[Poseidon’s] intensity is strictly physical, the intended emotional impact submerged in a numbing onslaught of death, danger and derring-do as a bunch of mostly annoying, self-centered passengers fight their way to the surface." Sheri Linden, HOLLYWOOD REPORTER Until this trend of ignoring the power of the character emotional development ceases, chances remain high that the movie box-office grosses will continue to dip even lower.Martha Alderson, M.A. is an international plot and story consultant for writers. Her clients include best-selling authors, writing teachers and fiction editors. As the author of BLOCKBUSTER PLOTS Pure & Simple, she created a unique line of plot tools for writers, including the Scene Tracker Kit, and the Plot Planner DVDs. She teaches plot workshops privately, through University of Santa Cruz, Learning Annex and writing conferences.
This year, reviewers have consistently complained about a lack of character emotional development in the movies. At the same time, Hollywood reports a slump in box office sales. Are the two related? Perhaps. Even the top five moneymaking movies for the summer of 2006 were without significant character emotional development. “Although he slams into stationary objects with his customary zeal, Tom Cruise [in Mission: Impossible III] is off his game here, sabotaged by a misguided attempt to shade his character with gray.” Manohla Dargis, NEW YORK TIMES Storytelling involves more than lining up the action pieces, arranging them in a logical order and then drawing conclusions. Yes, dramatic action pulls moviegoers to the edge of their seats. And yes, conflict, tension, suspense and curiosity hook moviegoers. Yet, no matter how exciting the action, the character's emotional development provides the real fascination. Any presentation without a strong human element increases the chances of losing audience interest. “The Da Vinci Code...a couple of crashing boors...” Amy Biancolli, HOUSTON CHRONICLE In many cases, movies rely on star power alone without taking the time to develop the characters in the story itself. Moviegoers may feel an emotional attachment to the star. Ultimately, however, unless they emotionally identify with the main character as a character, moviegoers will detach from the film. Plot Is More than Dramatic Action Plot is made up of three intertwining threads: 1.) Character emotional development 2.) Dramatic action 3.) Thematic significance In other words, the protagonist acts or reacts. In so doing, he or she is changed and something significant is learned. When Stories Get Stuck Stories get stuck because one or more of the three key elements has been ignored: 1.) Concentrating on action only, forgetting that character provides interest and is the primary reason people go to the movies and read books. "Without the first film’s textured relationships, [X-Men: The Last Stand] becomes just another episode..." Colin Covert, MINNEAPOLIS STAR TRIBUNE 2.) Organizing solely around the character and overlooking the fact that dramatic action provides the excitement every story needs. 3.) Forgetting to develop the overall meaning or the thematic significance of the story. When the dramatic action changes the character at depth over time, the story becomes thematically significant. “This second film [Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest] is pretty much all thrills, special effects and nonstop action -- but with virtually no cohesive or compelling story line.” Bill Zwecker, CHICAGO SUN-TIMES The Power of Character In a compelling story line, the characters grow and change step-by-step in reaction to the dramatic action. This growth is not meant to be merely on a physical level. Often, in their zeal of showing off high-tech special effects, moviemakers and screenwriters forget the power of character emotional development. The challenges the characters face must create emotional effects, the deeper the better. An effective way to keep track of these incremental steps is with the use of a Scene Tracker. A scene tracker asks you to fulfill seven essential elements in every single scene, with the biggest being on the character emotional development. Take, for instance, The Crisis. The crisis is an event written in scene that works like any crisis in real life. The crisis serves to shake things up in such a way that the protagonist has to act. The crisis takes on dramatic proportions when it serves as the highest point in the dramatic action plot line so far and, at the same time, forces the protagonist to rethink life as they have always thought it to be. This, in turns, changes their character emotional development at depth. When one scene has such a dramatic effect on both plotlines, the scene serves as a double whammy. This effect is best found toward the end of the Middle or nearly three quarters of the way through the project. If, however, the crisis involves only a high point in the dramatic action without something equal or comparable happening within the character, the story loses its heart. “Calling a summer movie 'action-packed' is supposed to be a compliment, but there's nothing so tedious as nonstop excitement.” Stephanie Zacharek, SALON.COM Sometimes, the crisis takes the form of two separate events written in two separate scenes. In this case, one scene hits the highest point so far in the story for the Dramatic Action plot line and another scene affects the character emotional development plot line separately. These two high points can either occur close together for maximum effect or further apart. Viewers expect and deserve the dramatic action and the character emotional development to build to a fevered pitch toward the end of the Middle. By then, they have been sitting for over an hour. Without some sort of release caused by this sort of big moment within the character, the story becomes just another action drama with explosions and chases and fights. The crisis can be written softly and quietly or as an all-out war. Either way, and whether it comes separately or together, the crisis involves the character on an emotional level in reaction to the dramatic action and ends the long haul of the Middle (a whopping 1/2 of the scene count of the entire project). “[Poseidon’s] intensity is strictly physical, the intended emotional impact submerged in a numbing onslaught of death, danger and derring-do as a bunch of mostly annoying, self-centered passengers fight their way to the surface." Sheri Linden, HOLLYWOOD REPORTER Until this trend of ignoring the power of the character emotional development ceases, chances remain high that the movie box-office grosses will continue to dip even lower.Martha Alderson, M.A. is an international plot and story consultant for writers. Her clients include best-selling authors, writing teachers and fiction editors. As the author of BLOCKBUSTER PLOTS Pure & Simple, she created a unique line of plot tools for writers, including the Scene Tracker Kit, and the Plot Planner DVDs. She teaches plot workshops privately, through University of Santa Cruz, Learning Annex and writing conferences.
quinta-feira, 22 de março de 2007
Monólogo Trânsito
Trânsito
Autor: Marcos Galinari
Cara, isso foi em pleno trânsito de São Paulo.
Não, imagina. Aquele monte de carro, tudo parado e de repente eu olho... ela. Bem ali do meu lado.
Tava com um espelhinho daqueles de maquiagem,
dando uns retoquesinhos. Como se precisasse né.
Na hora mesmo eu nem acreditei, olhei de novo...
Aí pensei... eu vou lá. O trânsito tá parado mesmo, dá tempo.
Mas desisti, era dar bobeira demais. Podia até pensar que era um assalto, hoje em dia sabe como é.
Melhor, eu vou dar uma buzinadinha.
É, mas aí o cara da frente podia pensar que era com
ele... Imagina o motorista saindo do carro, vindo tirar satisfação, ela ia ver...
Não. Buzinar não. Podia ser um tchauzinho...
Dar tchauzinho também é tão patético...
E se eu ligasse? Eu tenho o número dela...
Não, não. Acho que o número nem deve ser o mesmo.
Enquanto isso ela ainda estava lá, retocando a maquiagem.
Como o tempo é generoso com algumas pessoas...
O trânsito continuava parado, minha cabeça a mil é lógico e...
e de repente eu voltei no tempo. Parece que via tudo quadro
a quadro. Lembrei de cada ano, de cada coisa...
Nossa, e meus aniversários? Todo mundo lá. Cara não dá nem pra falar...
De repente ouço o som de uma buzina, era o carro de trás. O trânsito começou andar, eu olhei de lado e já não vi mais ninguém.
É, eu fiquei triste, claro. Podia ter feito de tudo. Buzinado, dado tchauzinho, ido até lá.
Mas faltou coragem. Também, eu nem saberia o que dizer mesmo.
Mas valeu. Nossa, se valeu.
Pelo menos por alguns instantes...
Ela, ela parecia estar muito bem. Um dia eu ainda tomo coragem e...
Eu saí de casa muito cedo, depois de uma discussão terrível. Isso já faz alguns anos.
Cara... como foi bom ver minha mãe de novo.
Autor: Marcos Galinari
Cara, isso foi em pleno trânsito de São Paulo.
Não, imagina. Aquele monte de carro, tudo parado e de repente eu olho... ela. Bem ali do meu lado.
Tava com um espelhinho daqueles de maquiagem,
dando uns retoquesinhos. Como se precisasse né.
Na hora mesmo eu nem acreditei, olhei de novo...
Aí pensei... eu vou lá. O trânsito tá parado mesmo, dá tempo.
Mas desisti, era dar bobeira demais. Podia até pensar que era um assalto, hoje em dia sabe como é.
Melhor, eu vou dar uma buzinadinha.
É, mas aí o cara da frente podia pensar que era com
ele... Imagina o motorista saindo do carro, vindo tirar satisfação, ela ia ver...
Não. Buzinar não. Podia ser um tchauzinho...
Dar tchauzinho também é tão patético...
E se eu ligasse? Eu tenho o número dela...
Não, não. Acho que o número nem deve ser o mesmo.
Enquanto isso ela ainda estava lá, retocando a maquiagem.
Como o tempo é generoso com algumas pessoas...
O trânsito continuava parado, minha cabeça a mil é lógico e...
e de repente eu voltei no tempo. Parece que via tudo quadro
a quadro. Lembrei de cada ano, de cada coisa...
Nossa, e meus aniversários? Todo mundo lá. Cara não dá nem pra falar...
De repente ouço o som de uma buzina, era o carro de trás. O trânsito começou andar, eu olhei de lado e já não vi mais ninguém.
É, eu fiquei triste, claro. Podia ter feito de tudo. Buzinado, dado tchauzinho, ido até lá.
Mas faltou coragem. Também, eu nem saberia o que dizer mesmo.
Mas valeu. Nossa, se valeu.
Pelo menos por alguns instantes...
Ela, ela parecia estar muito bem. Um dia eu ainda tomo coragem e...
Eu saí de casa muito cedo, depois de uma discussão terrível. Isso já faz alguns anos.
Cara... como foi bom ver minha mãe de novo.
terça-feira, 20 de março de 2007
segunda-feira, 19 de março de 2007
How To Market Your Screenplayby
by Kathryn Knowlton
OK! You've got a terrific script! How do you get it read, and how do you sell it? The first step, of course, is to get good representation. One of the most important things to look for in your representative is whether or not s/he knows the marketplace. It is extremely important that your representative knows what the studios are looking for and the person at each studio who is looking for it. With the success of ‘American Beauty,’ many of the studios are looking for quirky, edgy, offbeat movies, which would have been very hard to sell a year ago. Several studios have asked me recently for thrillers. For the past several years, there have been so many thrillers in development that no one wanted to hear about them. This is what I mean by knowing what they want: Why burn out your script when, by waiting out the tide, you can catch a wave? I am also seeing that studios are looking more and more for genre films; i.e., horror, family or urban fare. Genre movies have a built-in audience. For example, even if a family movie grosses very little theatrically, they know they can make their money back in video sales. Another interesting trend is that quite a few musicals and riskier projects are in development now versus a year ago. Don't, however, forget that the core, repeat audience are 15 to 25-year-old males, the demographics the studios are willing to spend big money on. On the other hand, I would never encourage a writer to write towards the current trend because, by the time your screenplay is finished, the studios will have filled all of those slots. Trends come and go quickly, which is why it helps to have a representative who talks to all the studios on a weekly basis. Just to make it more confusing a studio may tell me that they want absolutely no CIA stories, but if I have a great CIA script and am armed with that knowledge, I can talk an executive into reading it, and if it's really good, probably buying it. If I was not armed with that knowledge, the script would just go to a reader, the executive would have no incentive to read it (after all, it's not what s/he has been asked to look for!) A representative with a personal relationship, however, can explain why this script is so good, and why s/he's willing to bet their reputation on someone spending time to read it. Trends come and go very quickly, and yes, you can get lucky and catch that wave. To seriously succeed as a writer, however, and make more than just one sale, the best advice I can give you is write what you know and find a unique voice. At CSS, we each read approximately 1,000 scripts a year. Yes, one thousand, some of us read even more. For a script to make a sale, it has to stand out. Some of the best scripts in town have yet to be produced, but have earned the writers years and years of work on other material. Stick to your guns, keep writing, and if you are a good writer and have solid representation, you will get your shot. The truth is that no one really knows anything, it is passion that sells material. So, keep writing, keep honing your skills and be comforted by the fact that many truly successful writers tell me that they are still terrified every time they look at the blank page or computer screen. These are people making close to or more than one million dollars a script.Kathryn Knowlton and Creative Script Services are dedicated to helping aspiring writers break down Hollywood's locked doors. CSS will read and, if viable, REPRESENT your material. ,See Web site thescript.com for more information.
OK! You've got a terrific script! How do you get it read, and how do you sell it? The first step, of course, is to get good representation. One of the most important things to look for in your representative is whether or not s/he knows the marketplace. It is extremely important that your representative knows what the studios are looking for and the person at each studio who is looking for it. With the success of ‘American Beauty,’ many of the studios are looking for quirky, edgy, offbeat movies, which would have been very hard to sell a year ago. Several studios have asked me recently for thrillers. For the past several years, there have been so many thrillers in development that no one wanted to hear about them. This is what I mean by knowing what they want: Why burn out your script when, by waiting out the tide, you can catch a wave? I am also seeing that studios are looking more and more for genre films; i.e., horror, family or urban fare. Genre movies have a built-in audience. For example, even if a family movie grosses very little theatrically, they know they can make their money back in video sales. Another interesting trend is that quite a few musicals and riskier projects are in development now versus a year ago. Don't, however, forget that the core, repeat audience are 15 to 25-year-old males, the demographics the studios are willing to spend big money on. On the other hand, I would never encourage a writer to write towards the current trend because, by the time your screenplay is finished, the studios will have filled all of those slots. Trends come and go quickly, which is why it helps to have a representative who talks to all the studios on a weekly basis. Just to make it more confusing a studio may tell me that they want absolutely no CIA stories, but if I have a great CIA script and am armed with that knowledge, I can talk an executive into reading it, and if it's really good, probably buying it. If I was not armed with that knowledge, the script would just go to a reader, the executive would have no incentive to read it (after all, it's not what s/he has been asked to look for!) A representative with a personal relationship, however, can explain why this script is so good, and why s/he's willing to bet their reputation on someone spending time to read it. Trends come and go very quickly, and yes, you can get lucky and catch that wave. To seriously succeed as a writer, however, and make more than just one sale, the best advice I can give you is write what you know and find a unique voice. At CSS, we each read approximately 1,000 scripts a year. Yes, one thousand, some of us read even more. For a script to make a sale, it has to stand out. Some of the best scripts in town have yet to be produced, but have earned the writers years and years of work on other material. Stick to your guns, keep writing, and if you are a good writer and have solid representation, you will get your shot. The truth is that no one really knows anything, it is passion that sells material. So, keep writing, keep honing your skills and be comforted by the fact that many truly successful writers tell me that they are still terrified every time they look at the blank page or computer screen. These are people making close to or more than one million dollars a script.Kathryn Knowlton and Creative Script Services are dedicated to helping aspiring writers break down Hollywood's locked doors. CSS will read and, if viable, REPRESENT your material. ,See Web site thescript.com for more information.
Breaking the Screenwriting
by Howard Suber
Everybody in Hollywood knows the top three rules of screenwriting: 1. Write what you know. 2. Films must have a happy ending. 3. Films must have three acts. But few people know what these rules all have in common: They are all wrong. Rule #1: Write What You Know There is no writer alive who has not been advised, “Write what you know.” And there are few writers who have not, in the course of following this advice, spent months or years producing a personally cathartic but boringly predictable work. Too often, writers take “write what you know” to mean “write what you’ve lived.” Yet, few writers lead dramatic lives; if they did, they wouldn’t have much time or energy for writing. Writing what you know, therefore, can constrict a writer to a very narrow and uninteresting perspective. What you "know," if you have any creativity at all, is not just what you have experienced. Paul Schrader had no experience as a pimp or a taxi driver when he wrote the screenplay for Taxi Driver. He had studied to be a minister at Calvin College, a small fundamentalist school in Michigan, and earned his M.A. degree in academic film studies at UCLA writing about the spiritual dimensions of the work of the Danish director Carl Theodore Dryer. Mario Puzo wasn't a made man or even a member of a Mafia family, he was a novelist looking for a commercial hit, and what he knew about the Mafia when he wrote The Godfather came mostly from his research in the New York Public library. George Lucas grew up in rural Modesto, California, where there were no space ships, hyper-drives or even robots. What he knew about “The Force” he got largely from Joseph Campbell’s The Hero of a Thousand Faces and popular studies of comparative religions. If all that a writer “knows” is his own personal experience, it will never be broad enough to sustain him throughout a productive career. Experience, in itself, is never enough. The more one relies on it exclusively, the more one runs the risk of restricting one’s imagination, which is where most creativity originates. Rule #2: Films Must Have a Happy Ending Here are some memorable popular films that do not have a happy ending: Amadeus American Graffiti Annie Hall Apocalypse Now Bonnie and Clyde The Bridge on the River Kwai Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Casablanca Chinatown Citizen Kane A Clockwork Orange The Deer Hunter Doctor Zhivago Double Indemnity Dr. Strangelove E.T., The Extra-Terrestrial Easy Rider Frankenstein The French Connection From Here to Eternity The Godfather The Godfather: Part II Gone with the Wind The Grapes of Wrath High Noon King Kong Lawrence of Arabia The Maltese Falcon The Manchurian Candidate Midnight Cowboy Mutiny on the Bounty Network On the Waterfront One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Patton Platoon Psycho Pulp Fiction Raging Bull Rebel Without a Cause Schindler's List The Searchers Shane The Silence of the Lambs A Streetcar Named Desire Sunset Boulevard Taxi Driver To Kill a Mockingbird The Treasure of the Sierra Madre Unforgiven Vertigo The Wild Bunch The press, audiences, and people in the film industry itself all seem to believe that, to be a success, a Hollywood film must have a happy ending, but as this list demonstrates, this is not born out by the evidence. While comedies and musicals generally end happily, a very large proportion of the most memorable popular films (those that were popular in their own day and have remained popular) do not. The endings of the vast majority of memorable popular films consist of Pyrrhic victories, in which the central characters have gone through such trauma, loss, pain, sacrifice, and suffering that calling their final state “happy” would be a maddeningly insensitive joke. The Declaration of Independence and every politician who invokes it may speak of the “pursuit of happiness,” but happiness has nothing to do with being a hero; in fact, happiness is something heroes learn to live without. Rule #3: Films Must Have Three Acts What is the authority for this rule? Surely, not empirical observation, for the history of drama and film is filled with great dramatic and filmic works that cannot be said to have three acts. So, why in recent years have so many people tried to force films into this Procrustean bed? The authority most often cited for the “three act rule” is that oldest of dramatic theorists, Aristotle. In his other works, Aristotle often obsessively numbered things, so had he observed three acts in the works of the great Greek playwrights, surely he would have reported it. But none of the plays Aristotle was familiar with had acts in the modern sense of the term. Not surprisingly, therefore, Aristotle said absolutely nothing about an act structure — and certainly nothing about three acts. Aristotle said that drama has a beginning, middle, and end, but he did not make a big deal about it, which is a good thing because when one looks at the statement it is so self-evident that one has to wonder why such a great thinker bothered to make it or why his students thought it worthy of preserving for posterity. World War II, this article, and your last bowel movement all have a beginning, middle, and end. Everything that takes place in time or space has a beginning, middle, and end. But this is not the same thing as three acts. Some people suggest that an alternative to three acts is the five act structure they ascribe to Shakespeare. But a large proportion of Shakespeare’s works did not have such a structure - it wasn’t until nearly a hundred years after his death that a publisher decided to impose the five act structure on all of his plays. So, neither the three nor the five act structures came from the revered source so often claimed for them. The three act structure was invented two thousand years after Aristotle, when Ibsen and other nineteenth-century dramatists found that their audiences — unlike those in Periclean Athens — were unable to sit still for the entire duration of a full-length play. In Ibsen’s theater and most theatrical works since, the audience is aware of acts because the curtain comes down, the house lights come up, and they get a chance to go to the bathroom. In film, the curtains don’t come down, the houselights don’t come up, and anyone who goes to the bathroom has to miss whatever keeps running on the screen. No one in the audience knows about “acts.” Greek, Elizabethan, and contemporary film audiences have not needed and as far as we can tell have never cared about the act structure that so many people say the “rules” demand. It is useful, of course to remember the self-evident fact that things have a beginning, middle, and end, but is difficult to explain why so many people think this is the same as three acts, or why so many people make up rules about how long they should be and what should take place within them, especially when the results of such rule-making all too often resembles painting by the numbers. Rules and Writing What I have learned from more than forty years of teaching a continuous stream of students at UCLA who have gone on to be successful film and television makers is that film storytelling is one of the most difficult of all art forms, and that it usually takes years to become competent, let alone to master it. Such mastery comes not from slavishly following forms and formulas, but from learning the psychology of storytelling, which is ultimately the psychology of human beings.Howard Suber has taught thousands of aspiring filmmakers and screenwriters over more than 40 years on the faculty of UCLA’s film school. Recipient of a Distinguished Teaching Award and a Life Achievement Award, Suber recently distilled his handouts from more than 65 different courses into his new book, The Power of Film.
Everybody in Hollywood knows the top three rules of screenwriting: 1. Write what you know. 2. Films must have a happy ending. 3. Films must have three acts. But few people know what these rules all have in common: They are all wrong. Rule #1: Write What You Know There is no writer alive who has not been advised, “Write what you know.” And there are few writers who have not, in the course of following this advice, spent months or years producing a personally cathartic but boringly predictable work. Too often, writers take “write what you know” to mean “write what you’ve lived.” Yet, few writers lead dramatic lives; if they did, they wouldn’t have much time or energy for writing. Writing what you know, therefore, can constrict a writer to a very narrow and uninteresting perspective. What you "know," if you have any creativity at all, is not just what you have experienced. Paul Schrader had no experience as a pimp or a taxi driver when he wrote the screenplay for Taxi Driver. He had studied to be a minister at Calvin College, a small fundamentalist school in Michigan, and earned his M.A. degree in academic film studies at UCLA writing about the spiritual dimensions of the work of the Danish director Carl Theodore Dryer. Mario Puzo wasn't a made man or even a member of a Mafia family, he was a novelist looking for a commercial hit, and what he knew about the Mafia when he wrote The Godfather came mostly from his research in the New York Public library. George Lucas grew up in rural Modesto, California, where there were no space ships, hyper-drives or even robots. What he knew about “The Force” he got largely from Joseph Campbell’s The Hero of a Thousand Faces and popular studies of comparative religions. If all that a writer “knows” is his own personal experience, it will never be broad enough to sustain him throughout a productive career. Experience, in itself, is never enough. The more one relies on it exclusively, the more one runs the risk of restricting one’s imagination, which is where most creativity originates. Rule #2: Films Must Have a Happy Ending Here are some memorable popular films that do not have a happy ending: Amadeus American Graffiti Annie Hall Apocalypse Now Bonnie and Clyde The Bridge on the River Kwai Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid Casablanca Chinatown Citizen Kane A Clockwork Orange The Deer Hunter Doctor Zhivago Double Indemnity Dr. Strangelove E.T., The Extra-Terrestrial Easy Rider Frankenstein The French Connection From Here to Eternity The Godfather The Godfather: Part II Gone with the Wind The Grapes of Wrath High Noon King Kong Lawrence of Arabia The Maltese Falcon The Manchurian Candidate Midnight Cowboy Mutiny on the Bounty Network On the Waterfront One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest Patton Platoon Psycho Pulp Fiction Raging Bull Rebel Without a Cause Schindler's List The Searchers Shane The Silence of the Lambs A Streetcar Named Desire Sunset Boulevard Taxi Driver To Kill a Mockingbird The Treasure of the Sierra Madre Unforgiven Vertigo The Wild Bunch The press, audiences, and people in the film industry itself all seem to believe that, to be a success, a Hollywood film must have a happy ending, but as this list demonstrates, this is not born out by the evidence. While comedies and musicals generally end happily, a very large proportion of the most memorable popular films (those that were popular in their own day and have remained popular) do not. The endings of the vast majority of memorable popular films consist of Pyrrhic victories, in which the central characters have gone through such trauma, loss, pain, sacrifice, and suffering that calling their final state “happy” would be a maddeningly insensitive joke. The Declaration of Independence and every politician who invokes it may speak of the “pursuit of happiness,” but happiness has nothing to do with being a hero; in fact, happiness is something heroes learn to live without. Rule #3: Films Must Have Three Acts What is the authority for this rule? Surely, not empirical observation, for the history of drama and film is filled with great dramatic and filmic works that cannot be said to have three acts. So, why in recent years have so many people tried to force films into this Procrustean bed? The authority most often cited for the “three act rule” is that oldest of dramatic theorists, Aristotle. In his other works, Aristotle often obsessively numbered things, so had he observed three acts in the works of the great Greek playwrights, surely he would have reported it. But none of the plays Aristotle was familiar with had acts in the modern sense of the term. Not surprisingly, therefore, Aristotle said absolutely nothing about an act structure — and certainly nothing about three acts. Aristotle said that drama has a beginning, middle, and end, but he did not make a big deal about it, which is a good thing because when one looks at the statement it is so self-evident that one has to wonder why such a great thinker bothered to make it or why his students thought it worthy of preserving for posterity. World War II, this article, and your last bowel movement all have a beginning, middle, and end. Everything that takes place in time or space has a beginning, middle, and end. But this is not the same thing as three acts. Some people suggest that an alternative to three acts is the five act structure they ascribe to Shakespeare. But a large proportion of Shakespeare’s works did not have such a structure - it wasn’t until nearly a hundred years after his death that a publisher decided to impose the five act structure on all of his plays. So, neither the three nor the five act structures came from the revered source so often claimed for them. The three act structure was invented two thousand years after Aristotle, when Ibsen and other nineteenth-century dramatists found that their audiences — unlike those in Periclean Athens — were unable to sit still for the entire duration of a full-length play. In Ibsen’s theater and most theatrical works since, the audience is aware of acts because the curtain comes down, the house lights come up, and they get a chance to go to the bathroom. In film, the curtains don’t come down, the houselights don’t come up, and anyone who goes to the bathroom has to miss whatever keeps running on the screen. No one in the audience knows about “acts.” Greek, Elizabethan, and contemporary film audiences have not needed and as far as we can tell have never cared about the act structure that so many people say the “rules” demand. It is useful, of course to remember the self-evident fact that things have a beginning, middle, and end, but is difficult to explain why so many people think this is the same as three acts, or why so many people make up rules about how long they should be and what should take place within them, especially when the results of such rule-making all too often resembles painting by the numbers. Rules and Writing What I have learned from more than forty years of teaching a continuous stream of students at UCLA who have gone on to be successful film and television makers is that film storytelling is one of the most difficult of all art forms, and that it usually takes years to become competent, let alone to master it. Such mastery comes not from slavishly following forms and formulas, but from learning the psychology of storytelling, which is ultimately the psychology of human beings.Howard Suber has taught thousands of aspiring filmmakers and screenwriters over more than 40 years on the faculty of UCLA’s film school. Recipient of a Distinguished Teaching Award and a Life Achievement Award, Suber recently distilled his handouts from more than 65 different courses into his new book, The Power of Film.
The Essence of Story
by James Bonnet
What is the essence, or heart and soul, of a great story? There are seven critical elements: the change of fortune, the problem of the story, the complications, crisis, climax and resolution of the classical structure, and the threat, which is by far the most important. In this article, we will examine the threat and its relationship to the other six critical elements that constitute the very essence of story -- that without which there would be no story. The first element is the change of fortune. There is an entity (i.e. an individual, a family, a town, a country, the world, etc.) and that entity goes from a desirable to an undesirable state or condition or the reverse. Or as Aristotle put it: 'The proper magnitude (of a story) is comprised within such limits that the sequence of events, according to the laws of probability and necessity, will admit of a change from bad fortune to good or from good fortune to bad.' In 'The Exorcist,' a little girl is possessed by the Devil and a state of misfortune exists. Then, the principal action, casting out the Devil, brings about a state of good fortune. In stories that end unhappily, it's the reverse. In 'Othello,' a state of good fortune exists at the beginning. The principal action, perpetrated by Iago, destroys the Moor with jealousy and a state of tragic misfortune is the result. The second element, the problem, brings about these changes of fortune. This problem is a prerequisite in all stories. You have a problem and that problem is resolved. No matter how big or small the story, it will be focusing on, or related to, a problem. And everyone in that story will somehow be involved in that incident. And everything everyone does in that story will in some way affect the outcome of that incident. And revealing how that problem was created and how it can be resolved is at the very heart of a story. In 'Kiss The Girls' and 'The Silence Of The Lambs,' a serial killer is on the loose. That is the problem that brings about the change of fortune and that is the problem that has to be resolved. The solution to those problems will be the principal actions that give a unity of action to these stories. In 'Gladiator,' a tyrant has usurped the Roman Empire, preventing the restoration of the Republic. In 'The Sixth Sense,' there are two problems: a murdered child psychologist is stuck in limbo, and the spirits of dead people are haunting a little boy's mind. In 'Independence Day,' aliens have invaded the Earth. In 'Star Wars,' the Evil Empire has taken possession of the galaxy. In 'The Iliad,' the Greek army is being decimated because their best warrior has dropped out of the fight. In the legend of King Arthur, the kingdom is in a state of anarchy and has to be reunified. In 'Jaws,' it's a shark problem. In 'The Mummy,' it's a mummy problem. In 'The Perfect Storm,' it's a weather problem. In 'Traffic,' it's a drug problem. In 'Armageddon,' it's an asteroid problem. In 'Indecent Proposal,' it's a temptation problem. In 'Erin Brockovich,' it's an environmental problem. Each of these stories, and hundreds of others I could name, revolve around a problem that has to be resolved. Can any problem be a story? Technically, any problem can be a story if its solution contains a classical story structure -- i.e. complications, a crisis, a climax and a resolution. Generally speaking, however, an audience wouldn't be interested in a story about some minor problem, like finding your lost keys, unless something truly funny or horrendous like the end of the world would happen if you didn't find them. Story is especially interested in problem-solving actions that involve crises -- critical events that threaten life, health, wealth, freedom, love, security, happiness, etc. while testing the limits of human endurance and ingenuity. Story focuses on problems for the same reason the news only reports the bad things that are happening in the world -- and not the good -- because problems are where it's at. If everything is in perfect harmony, and there are no problems to worry about -- we're in Paradise. And that's one of the functions of story: to help guide us to higher, more desirable, less problematic states of being. One of the ways that a story does this is by revealing the truth and nature of problems and their solutions. Next, there's the super important element called the threat. The threat is the agent or perpetrator that creates the problem that brings about the negative state. In 'Kiss the Girls,' the serial killer is the threat, and the act of murder is the inciting action that creates the problem that brings about the change to a state of misfortune. Equally significant in a great story is the fact that this threat will become the source of resistance that opposes the action when someone tries to solve this problem and restore a state of good fortune. This resistance will create the classical structure that occurs when a problem-solving action encounters resistance. In 'Harry Potter,' Voldemort is the threat. His efforts in the seven books to take possession of the wizard world create the problem that brings about an undesirable state. And he will be the source of the resistance that creates the classical structure whenever Harry tries to solve these problems and restore a state of good fortune. In 'The Exorcist,' the Devil is the threat. He takes possession of a young girl and that is the inciting action that creates the problem and brings about the change of fortune. He is also the source of resistance that creates the complications, crisis, climax and resolution when the priest tries to solve that problem. In 'Ordinary People,' the mother is the cause of the problem that has brought about the negative state, and she will be the source of resistance when the psychiatrist, played by Judd Hirsch, and the boy's father, played by Donald Sutherland, attempt to solve the mystery of the boy's suicidal tendencies. In 'Jaws,' the shark is the threat that causes the problem. In 'Dracula,' it's the Count. In 'On the Waterfront,' it's Johnny Friendly. In 'Gladiator,' it's Commodus. In 'Braveheart,' it's the British. In 'The Iliad,' it is the Trojan, Paris. In the Egyptian myth of Osiris, it's Osiris' brother Set. In all of these cases, the threat performs the action that creates the problem that brings about the change of fortune. It also is the source of resistance that creates the classical structure when someone tries to solve the problem and reverse the state of misfortune. You can see this same pattern at work in real life as well. In World War II, Hitler was the threat, and his 'taking possession of Europe' created the problem and the state of misfortune. He was also the source of the resistance that created the complications, crisis, climaxes and resolutions of the classical structure when the Allies tried to solve this problem. In our latest war, this is also very evident. Osama Bin Laden, his Al Qaeda terrorist network and the Taliban are the threat. Their attack on the World Trade Center and Pentagon is the inciting action that created the problem that brought a very undesirable state of fear to the United States. And they will be the source of resistance that creates the classical structure as we try to solve this problem. In all of these examples, the threat is the cause of the problem that brings about a change of fortune and is the source of the resistance that creates the classical structure when the good guys try to solve the problem. The problem, change of fortune and components of the classical structure constitute the very essence of story -- that without which there would be no story. If you think about it, this is easy to see. Without a problem and change of fortune, there is no story. If the story ends in the same place it began, without some significant progress up or down, the audience will wonder what the point of it was. It will be a very unsatisfactory experience. Without complications and a crisis, there is no story. If Cinderella goes to the ball, falls in love with the prince and marries him without a single hitch, or if Indiana Jones goes after the Holy Grail and finds it without running into any difficulty whatsoever, there is no story. The audience is left muttering: So what? If there are complications and a crisis, but no climax and no resolution, you will have the same problem. You will leave your audience feeling completely unfulfilled. They will have the distinct feeling that the story was left unfinished. The threat, then, is not only the heart of the high concept great idea, (see our eZine article on the high concept dated July 21, 2001), it creates the problem that brings about the change of fortune and provides the resistance that creates the classical structure, all of which make up the very essence of story. An element that does all of that is an element worth thinking about and understanding. James Bonnet was elected twice to the Board of Directors of the Writer's Guild of America and has written or acted in more than 40 television shows and features. The radical new ideas about story in his book 'Stealing Fire from the Gods: A Dynamic New Story Model For Writers And Filmmakers' are having a major impact on writers in all media.
What is the essence, or heart and soul, of a great story? There are seven critical elements: the change of fortune, the problem of the story, the complications, crisis, climax and resolution of the classical structure, and the threat, which is by far the most important. In this article, we will examine the threat and its relationship to the other six critical elements that constitute the very essence of story -- that without which there would be no story. The first element is the change of fortune. There is an entity (i.e. an individual, a family, a town, a country, the world, etc.) and that entity goes from a desirable to an undesirable state or condition or the reverse. Or as Aristotle put it: 'The proper magnitude (of a story) is comprised within such limits that the sequence of events, according to the laws of probability and necessity, will admit of a change from bad fortune to good or from good fortune to bad.' In 'The Exorcist,' a little girl is possessed by the Devil and a state of misfortune exists. Then, the principal action, casting out the Devil, brings about a state of good fortune. In stories that end unhappily, it's the reverse. In 'Othello,' a state of good fortune exists at the beginning. The principal action, perpetrated by Iago, destroys the Moor with jealousy and a state of tragic misfortune is the result. The second element, the problem, brings about these changes of fortune. This problem is a prerequisite in all stories. You have a problem and that problem is resolved. No matter how big or small the story, it will be focusing on, or related to, a problem. And everyone in that story will somehow be involved in that incident. And everything everyone does in that story will in some way affect the outcome of that incident. And revealing how that problem was created and how it can be resolved is at the very heart of a story. In 'Kiss The Girls' and 'The Silence Of The Lambs,' a serial killer is on the loose. That is the problem that brings about the change of fortune and that is the problem that has to be resolved. The solution to those problems will be the principal actions that give a unity of action to these stories. In 'Gladiator,' a tyrant has usurped the Roman Empire, preventing the restoration of the Republic. In 'The Sixth Sense,' there are two problems: a murdered child psychologist is stuck in limbo, and the spirits of dead people are haunting a little boy's mind. In 'Independence Day,' aliens have invaded the Earth. In 'Star Wars,' the Evil Empire has taken possession of the galaxy. In 'The Iliad,' the Greek army is being decimated because their best warrior has dropped out of the fight. In the legend of King Arthur, the kingdom is in a state of anarchy and has to be reunified. In 'Jaws,' it's a shark problem. In 'The Mummy,' it's a mummy problem. In 'The Perfect Storm,' it's a weather problem. In 'Traffic,' it's a drug problem. In 'Armageddon,' it's an asteroid problem. In 'Indecent Proposal,' it's a temptation problem. In 'Erin Brockovich,' it's an environmental problem. Each of these stories, and hundreds of others I could name, revolve around a problem that has to be resolved. Can any problem be a story? Technically, any problem can be a story if its solution contains a classical story structure -- i.e. complications, a crisis, a climax and a resolution. Generally speaking, however, an audience wouldn't be interested in a story about some minor problem, like finding your lost keys, unless something truly funny or horrendous like the end of the world would happen if you didn't find them. Story is especially interested in problem-solving actions that involve crises -- critical events that threaten life, health, wealth, freedom, love, security, happiness, etc. while testing the limits of human endurance and ingenuity. Story focuses on problems for the same reason the news only reports the bad things that are happening in the world -- and not the good -- because problems are where it's at. If everything is in perfect harmony, and there are no problems to worry about -- we're in Paradise. And that's one of the functions of story: to help guide us to higher, more desirable, less problematic states of being. One of the ways that a story does this is by revealing the truth and nature of problems and their solutions. Next, there's the super important element called the threat. The threat is the agent or perpetrator that creates the problem that brings about the negative state. In 'Kiss the Girls,' the serial killer is the threat, and the act of murder is the inciting action that creates the problem that brings about the change to a state of misfortune. Equally significant in a great story is the fact that this threat will become the source of resistance that opposes the action when someone tries to solve this problem and restore a state of good fortune. This resistance will create the classical structure that occurs when a problem-solving action encounters resistance. In 'Harry Potter,' Voldemort is the threat. His efforts in the seven books to take possession of the wizard world create the problem that brings about an undesirable state. And he will be the source of the resistance that creates the classical structure whenever Harry tries to solve these problems and restore a state of good fortune. In 'The Exorcist,' the Devil is the threat. He takes possession of a young girl and that is the inciting action that creates the problem and brings about the change of fortune. He is also the source of resistance that creates the complications, crisis, climax and resolution when the priest tries to solve that problem. In 'Ordinary People,' the mother is the cause of the problem that has brought about the negative state, and she will be the source of resistance when the psychiatrist, played by Judd Hirsch, and the boy's father, played by Donald Sutherland, attempt to solve the mystery of the boy's suicidal tendencies. In 'Jaws,' the shark is the threat that causes the problem. In 'Dracula,' it's the Count. In 'On the Waterfront,' it's Johnny Friendly. In 'Gladiator,' it's Commodus. In 'Braveheart,' it's the British. In 'The Iliad,' it is the Trojan, Paris. In the Egyptian myth of Osiris, it's Osiris' brother Set. In all of these cases, the threat performs the action that creates the problem that brings about the change of fortune. It also is the source of resistance that creates the classical structure when someone tries to solve the problem and reverse the state of misfortune. You can see this same pattern at work in real life as well. In World War II, Hitler was the threat, and his 'taking possession of Europe' created the problem and the state of misfortune. He was also the source of the resistance that created the complications, crisis, climaxes and resolutions of the classical structure when the Allies tried to solve this problem. In our latest war, this is also very evident. Osama Bin Laden, his Al Qaeda terrorist network and the Taliban are the threat. Their attack on the World Trade Center and Pentagon is the inciting action that created the problem that brought a very undesirable state of fear to the United States. And they will be the source of resistance that creates the classical structure as we try to solve this problem. In all of these examples, the threat is the cause of the problem that brings about a change of fortune and is the source of the resistance that creates the classical structure when the good guys try to solve the problem. The problem, change of fortune and components of the classical structure constitute the very essence of story -- that without which there would be no story. If you think about it, this is easy to see. Without a problem and change of fortune, there is no story. If the story ends in the same place it began, without some significant progress up or down, the audience will wonder what the point of it was. It will be a very unsatisfactory experience. Without complications and a crisis, there is no story. If Cinderella goes to the ball, falls in love with the prince and marries him without a single hitch, or if Indiana Jones goes after the Holy Grail and finds it without running into any difficulty whatsoever, there is no story. The audience is left muttering: So what? If there are complications and a crisis, but no climax and no resolution, you will have the same problem. You will leave your audience feeling completely unfulfilled. They will have the distinct feeling that the story was left unfinished. The threat, then, is not only the heart of the high concept great idea, (see our eZine article on the high concept dated July 21, 2001), it creates the problem that brings about the change of fortune and provides the resistance that creates the classical structure, all of which make up the very essence of story. An element that does all of that is an element worth thinking about and understanding. James Bonnet was elected twice to the Board of Directors of the Writer's Guild of America and has written or acted in more than 40 television shows and features. The radical new ideas about story in his book 'Stealing Fire from the Gods: A Dynamic New Story Model For Writers And Filmmakers' are having a major impact on writers in all media.
sexta-feira, 16 de março de 2007
Taxímetro
Eu peço sempre pra parar
um quarteirão depois.
É, e ainda fico de olho.
Pelo menos assim eu não dou tanta bandeira.
Ah, quer saber ?
Tanto faz também.
A cabeça fica às vezes
um pouco confusa é verdade ...
Dá um nó mesmo.
Um dia desses um cara me falou
por que eu insistia ?
Por que eu levava essa vida ?
Depois, me contou a vida inteira,
que era casado, que tinha filhos...
Me falou até da sogra dele.
Tem idiota que pensa que eu sou psicóloga,
terapeuta, sei lá o que.
Ficam pendindo conselho.
... se eu pudesse dar algum tipo de conselho...
No fundo mesmo, eu to é me lixando pra tudo isso.
Nem tudo é eterno mesmo. Nada dura pra sempre.
Eu dô risada desses idiotas. Me divirto com esses
babacas. É, eu sei.
A vida não ta fácil pra ninguém. Eu sei...
Mas que às vezes eu ganho fácil, eu ganho.
Já tive problemas também. Já levei na cara, amarrei
porrada mesmo. Tive até que correr, deixei tudo pra trás.
Mas no outro dia, eu tô aqui de novo.
Eu escolhi assim. Não, aqui não !
Tá vendo aquele carro ? É, vermelho.
Pára alí, depois daquela esquina.
Aniversário de casamento
É sempre assim
Todo ano acontece a mesma coisa
Eu me preparo sabe ... eu tento me preparar ...
Pelo menos tento.
Tento não ficar surpresa ...
Uma mulher da minha idade,
já se sente mais segura ...
afinal a vida cobra esta segurança, esta ...
há sei lá ...
Eu sou casada há cinco anos
Conheci o Sergio meu marido no trabalho.
Numa confraternização da empresa ...
estas festinhas de final de ano.
eu organizei o encontro ...
cuidei para que nenhum detalhe fosse esquecido, ninguém fosse esquecido ...
Foi um sorteio feito assim, meio na hora ...
amigo secreto.
No final, ... eu acabei tirando o Sérgio – e o Sérgio - acabou me tirando.
Eu tinha comprado uma agenda ... meio neutra sabe ... , afinal de contas eu não sabia quem eu iria tirar mesmo ...
O Sérgio gostou, disse que adorou,
que ficou surpreso ...
Eu também fiquei surpresa ...
ele não me deu nada ...
É ... não me deu nada !
50 convidados e eu fui a única a ficar sem nenhuma lembrancinha.
Pode ?
O que o Sérgio disse ? “Desculpe viu ... eu não entendi o convite - achei que ...”
Ah ... achei, achei, achei ...
esta sempre foi a resposta básica ou melhor a desculpa
clássica do Sérgio é sempre essa ...
Eu achei que ...
O Sérgio sempre teve uma coisa que me chamou a atenção.
Desde o início ...
A ingenuidade do Sérgio ...
é ... apesar de ficar irritada,
eu sei que ele não faz por mal. É o jeito dele mesmo ..
mas eu fico irritada !
Não ! Irritada é pouco.
Eu fico louca !!!
Hoje, 15 de agosto
é nosso aniversário de casamento ...
não, ele não esqueceu não ...
também, agora eu já aprendi.
Passo a semana toda deixando bilhetinhos,
recadinhos, passando
e-mail ... tudo isso pra ver se ele não esquece ...
é sempre assim ... no meu aniversário, faço a mesma coisa ...
só que começo uns 20 dias antes ...
... Se eu ainda gosto do Sérgio ?
(rs) Eu só tento não ficar mais surpresa ...
Todo ano acontece a mesma coisa
Eu me preparo sabe ... eu tento me preparar ...
Pelo menos tento.
Tento não ficar surpresa ...
Uma mulher da minha idade,
já se sente mais segura ...
afinal a vida cobra esta segurança, esta ...
há sei lá ...
Eu sou casada há cinco anos
Conheci o Sergio meu marido no trabalho.
Numa confraternização da empresa ...
estas festinhas de final de ano.
eu organizei o encontro ...
cuidei para que nenhum detalhe fosse esquecido, ninguém fosse esquecido ...
Foi um sorteio feito assim, meio na hora ...
amigo secreto.
No final, ... eu acabei tirando o Sérgio – e o Sérgio - acabou me tirando.
Eu tinha comprado uma agenda ... meio neutra sabe ... , afinal de contas eu não sabia quem eu iria tirar mesmo ...
O Sérgio gostou, disse que adorou,
que ficou surpreso ...
Eu também fiquei surpresa ...
ele não me deu nada ...
É ... não me deu nada !
50 convidados e eu fui a única a ficar sem nenhuma lembrancinha.
Pode ?
O que o Sérgio disse ? “Desculpe viu ... eu não entendi o convite - achei que ...”
Ah ... achei, achei, achei ...
esta sempre foi a resposta básica ou melhor a desculpa
clássica do Sérgio é sempre essa ...
Eu achei que ...
O Sérgio sempre teve uma coisa que me chamou a atenção.
Desde o início ...
A ingenuidade do Sérgio ...
é ... apesar de ficar irritada,
eu sei que ele não faz por mal. É o jeito dele mesmo ..
mas eu fico irritada !
Não ! Irritada é pouco.
Eu fico louca !!!
Hoje, 15 de agosto
é nosso aniversário de casamento ...
não, ele não esqueceu não ...
também, agora eu já aprendi.
Passo a semana toda deixando bilhetinhos,
recadinhos, passando
e-mail ... tudo isso pra ver se ele não esquece ...
é sempre assim ... no meu aniversário, faço a mesma coisa ...
só que começo uns 20 dias antes ...
... Se eu ainda gosto do Sérgio ?
(rs) Eu só tento não ficar mais surpresa ...
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