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Knives Out: A Screenplay Any Screenwriter Can Learn From

Knives Out was nominated for Best Original Screenplay at this year’s Oscars. It didn’t win. The Academy favored Parasite over Knives Out, and indeed, Parasite had a deservedly big night. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote here about its Best Picture win, and I broke down in detail the effectiveness of its screenplay and the complete Hero’s Journey contained therein. Parasite was a deserving winner, however the achievement of the screenplay for Knives Out should not be diminished or forgotten. Rian Johnson’s mystery movie harkens back to the great stories of Agatha Christie and pays homage to the great sleuths of cinema. Had I been an Oscar voter this year, I would have voted for Knives Out based on its mastery of, not only the Hero’s Journey and strong story structure, but also technical prowess. This is a technically savvy screenplay in which Johnson used all of the tools in the writer’s tool box to craft a story that was thoughtful, witty and entertaining.

Almost nothing in Knives Out happens in a vacuum. Nearly everything that happens has a direct or indirect effect on some other aspect of the story. Nothing is thrown away. There are no McGuffins, no non sequiturs.

Knives Out is a meticulously crafted film on every level and it starts with the screenplay.

Act I of the film opens with a prologue of sorts. Fran, the housekeeper, pours coffee into a cup that says, MY HOUSE, MY RULES, MY COFFEE. She carries a breakfast tray upstairs and we get the inciting incident of her discovering the body of Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer), the wealthy author, who died by apparent suicide of cutting his own throat. That kicks off a story that has a dynamic Hero’s Journey and a tight cinematic structure.

The Ordinary World picks up a week after Harlan’s death and we see various family members giving back story to the police. We are also introduced to Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), a private investigator who has been hired by a client unbeknownst to anyone, including Blanc himself. The most important person, however, is Marta (Ana de Armas), who served as Thrombey’s private nurse, and has the unusual condition of vomiting whenever she tells a lie. Blanc, along with two police detectives interview the family members. None of them are particularly cooperative, and at least four of them had a reason to want to kill Thrombey.  Thrombey had fired his son Walt (Michael Shannon) from his position running Thrombey’s publishing house. He caught his son-in-law Richard (Don Johnson) cheating on his wife and Thrombey’s daughter Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis). He threatened to cut off the allowance to his daughter-in-law Joni (Toni Colette) after discovering that she’d been double dipping the college tuition for her daughter Meg (Katherine Langford). Finally, we see that he was planning on cutting off is grandson and the son of Richard and Linda, Ransom (Chris Evans), by cutting him out of his will.

There is a ton of exposition in the first 15 or 20 minutes of the film, but you need to be paying attention because there is also a ton of foreshadowing. Johnson uses the technique of Planting and Payoff like crazy in this script, and several key elements are planted here that will payoff at stages throughout the film.

There are a couple of Calls to Adventure. The first one is revealed by Blanc telling the police he was hired by an anonymous person who sent him an envelope of cash, and a note asking to investigate Thrombey’s death. However, Thrombey himself gives Marta the true Call to Adventure when she thinks that she gave him a shot of a lethal dose of morphine rather than the less powerful pain killer she’s supposed to give him, and Thrombey presents her the plan of how to get away with accidentally killing him. She tries to Refuse the Call by begging him to let her call an ambulance, but he talks her out of it, knowing that there isn’t enough time. We get three examples of planting and payoff in this stage of the journey. The first is when part of the plan involves climbing the lattice outside the house to sneak into his room. As she’s climbing, part of it breaks. That’s the first plant. The second plant involves the part of the plan in which Marta needs to avoid being seen by the surveillance camera and she fails. The third plant is when she’s seen by Nana Thrombey’s elderly mother, who thinks she’s Ransom.

We Cross the First Threshold when Blanc asks Marta to be by his side when he searches the grounds the next day. That leads us into Act IIA and the Tests, Allies and Enemies portion of the story. It starts with a flashback. The first test Marta has to go through is following through on Thrombey’s plan after witnessing him kill himself. It looks like she might crack under the pressure, but a wonderful acting performance by de Armas shows a look of determination that can’t be broken. We also see the blood on her shoe from the splatter of Thrombey cutting his own throat (another plant). The next test we see is finding out about the video and knowing that she pulled off the road where the camera could still see her. We also hear that the tapes can be destroyed using a magnet, and we see Marta’s quick thinking when she sneaks a magnet near the tape, destroying its usefulness (Payoff). Then she sees the mud that she obviously put footprints in when walking back to the house.  She then contaminates the mud by walking through it in front of Blanc and the police. Finally they walk up to the house and Marta finding the broken piece of the lattice (Payoff), and throwing it away for the dog to fetch.

All of these tests serve not only to propel the story, but they also build Marta’s character. We see that she thinks quickly, has ingenuity and the ability to get out of tight situations. All of these things endear her to the audience as a character and organically allow for us to root for her. We’re not rooting for her just because she’s the hero and we’re supposed to root for her. Johnson took the time in these two stages of the Hero’s Journey to proactively create in her a character that we want to root for. One of the ways he did that was by giving her a unique flaw. She physically cannot lie. Any time she even thinks about lying, she pukes. This is used to great advantage by other characters throughout the film, but she uses it to get ultimate revenge at the end. That type of flaw humanizes Marta in a way that allows the audience to relate to her and to root for her.

This type of character development can be instructive to any aspiring screenwriter.

The Approach shows Ransom arriving to the house for the reading of the Will. We also see the dogs barking at him, which is another Plant. The attorney (Frank Oz) arrives to read the Will and the family has some disagreements over it. Walt is particularly upset at seeing Ransom there when he wasn’t even at the funeral (another Plant). The disagreement turns into a lame fist fight before Walt’s son Jacob says what he heard in a fight the night of the party when Thrombey told Ransom he was out of the will. Then the dog drops the broken part of the lattice and Blanc discovers that the lattice leads to Thrombey’s room. Now he knows someone snuck into Thrombey’s room undetected (Payoff).

That, combined with the Supreme Ordeal changes the direction of the story when the Will is read stating that Marta is the sole beneficiary of Harlan’s entire estate, including the mansion, $60 million in cash and sole ownership in his publishing company. All hell breaks loose at that point, and Marta is no longer the kind, sweet nurse that the family is prepared to take care of. She’s now a little bitch that is stealing their fortune and we move into Act IIB.

The Reward shows Marta being rescued by Ransom and he takes her to a restaurant and relative safety. He confesses to her that he knows his grandfather didn’t commit suicide and that he knows lying makes her puke, and he fed her a whole plate of baked beans and sausage. He then tells her to look him in the eye and tell him everything. She does, and he assures her that he won’t tell anyone, but he still wants his cut of the inheritance for helping her avoid any more trouble.

Meanwhile back at the mansion, the family tries to find out from the lawyer if there’s anything that can be done to change the Will. Joni Googles the Slayer Rule in which a person can lose an inheritance if they’re found to be responsible for the death of the benefactor. Now suddenly, everyone is interested in cooperating with Blanc to help him solve the case.

This changes the direction of the story again and we move into Act III and The Road Back. Marta gets a threatening note through the mail showing the seal of the medical examiner’s office and her nursing license stating they know what she did but with no other blackmail message. Seemingly with Ransom’s help, Marta tries to cover her tracks after the medical examiner building is mysteriously destroyed in a fire by going to an address emailed to her to try and get the only paper copy of the toxicology report that would show Thrombey’s overdose. They outrun the police and get to the address where Marta finds Fran on a chair and dying of a Morphine overdose. Rather than leaving Fran to die, which would help her own cause, she calls 911 and tries to resuscitate her, further endearing her to the audience.

The Resurrection shows Marta and Blanc in an emergency room waiting area and she confesses everything to him. He says he knew she was involved from the first moment he met her when he saw the red speck of blood on her shoe (Payoff). They go back to the house, they find where Fran hid the toxicology report and it shows that Thrombey’s blood was clean. At that point, Blanc realizes that Ransom switched the vials during the funeral (Payoff) and is really responsible for Thrombey’s death, but he will see to it that Thrombey’s death will be ruled a suicide. He goes through the whole series of events that fills the center of the donut. They trick Ransom into confessing to murdering Fran, and he’s lead out of the house in handcuffs.

The Return with the Elixir shows Marta won. Ransom is arrested. She has the house and stands on the front balcony as the stunned family looks up at her, sipping coffee in Thrombey’s old My House My Rules My Coffee mug” (final Payoff).

Knives Out is a film that resonated with audiences. It had a relatively modest $26.8 million opening, but it parlayed strong word-of-mouth into a long run in the theaters and ended up with an impressive $164.7 million at the domestic box office, and it nearly equaled that overseas. The reason this movie resonated so well with audiences was that it had a compelling script that you had to pay attention to. It didn’t dumb anything down for the audience and treated them with respect. You had to pay attention to this movie in order to follow along with the plot. It only had a few locations. It didn’t rely on dazzling special effects. There was no love story, no sex and no sexual innuendo. It was a good, old fashioned whodunit that was cleverly written and well-made.

This is a film that screenwriters of all levels can learn from.

2019 Winner for Best Picture: Parasite

A desperate poor family cons its way into working various servant jobs for a well-to-do family before one of the servants they got fired threatens to expose them.

Oscar history was made the night of February 9, 2020 when Parasite became the first non-English language film to win Best Picture. The South Korean film also won Best Foreign Language film, and Director/Screenwriter Bong Joon Ho took home Oscar statues for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay. In stark contrast to the previous year, everyone seemed to be happy about how the night played out.

Parasite is more than a film about class warfare.

Bong Joon Ho did a marvelous job of constructing a story that exposes the struggles we have with income inequality without passing judgment on members of either side of the issue. In fact, the characters of different classes interact and converse with each other in charming and compassionate ways. Much of the depth of the story comes from the fact that the Have-Nots (the Kim family) spend most of the second act serving not only as servants, but as mentors to the well-to-do family (the Parks). The first half of the film is spent building these relationships and convincing the audience that even though these two different families live under vastly different circumstances, they share many of the same hopes and dreams, and they respect each other as human beings.

Then in the second half of the film, we watch the relationships deteriorate. The deterioration is slow at first, but then excels in an extreme way. What makes it effective is that neither side thinks they’re doing anything wrong, necessarily. For example, there is a scene near the start of the second half where Mr. Park (Dong-ik) and Mrs. Park (Yeon-kyo) think they’re having a private conversation, but due to circumstances of a prior scene, Kim Ki-taek and his teenage son, Ki-woo and teenage daughter Ki-jung are hiding in the same room. Dong and Yeon discuss the interesting smell of Ki-taek, who has been hired as their chauffeur, and Dong mentions that the smell permeates the car. It smells like old radishes and the subway. Yeon says she hasn’t noticed and it’s been years since she rode on the subway. The point is that they’re no judgment in what they’re saying, it’s simply a matter of fact. Meanwhile, in his hiding place under the table humiliated, Ki-taek attempts to smell his clothes to see if he notices.

That type of sub textual and visual storytelling certainly went a long way towards Bong Joon Ho winning the Oscars for Best Screenplay and Best Director.

The characters in Parasite were not caricatured. They were deep characters, neither all good nor all bad. The upper class characters had issues and pathos that any person could relate to. The lower class characters, hardly working class heroes, had flaws that helped to put them in the difficult situations they were in. Far from blaming Dong-ik Park for his own issues, or even feeling jealous of him for the differences in their societal standing, Kim Ki-taek actually admires Park for his success and for the way he takes care of his family. At the same time, the Parks don’t openly look down on the Kim’s as somehow beneath them. Yes, they work for them as servants, but until the climax of the movie, their interactions are largely as equals.

This is a movie about two families that live in different worlds, but are clearly occupying the same space.

The fact that Parasite follows such a structured Hero’s Journey is what made a South Korean Film resonate with American audiences, as the Hero’s Journey crosses cultural divides and is universal in its appeal. It’s a story structure to which anyone in the world can relate, and Bong Hoon Jo nailed it to near perfection.

The film begins with us meeting the Kim family in their Ordinary World. They live in a small, subterranean apartment that is frequented by bums pissing outside their window. They regularly get disconnected from their cell phones and Wi-Fi, and have to work odd jobs like folding pizza boxes in order to get reconnected. The teenage son of the family, Ki-woo receives the Call to Adventure when his friend Min asks him to take over his English tutoring duties for the Parks, a wealthy family who have a teenage daughter he’s currently in love with. He wants to go to college and make his own money so he can ask her to marry him when she’s old enough. Ki-woo initially Refuses the Call by telling Min that he’s not qualified because he’s not going to college and he should ask one of his college friends to do it. In what turns out to be the act of ultimate irony, Min tells Ki-woo that he can only trust him to not look at the Parks’ daughter as a sexual object, so Ki-woo accepts. This scene also serves as the Meeting of the Mentor stage of the journey with Min serving as the Mentor archetype. The Mentor often gives advice and tools for the hero to follow and use, and Min does that for Ki-woo by offering the job and presenting him with a gift from his uncle of a lucky stone that they believe will bring prosperity to the house. Like Gandalf pushing Bilbo out the door, and Obi Wan giving Luke his lightsaber, Min opens the door for Ki-woo, and ultimately his family, to infiltrate the home of the Parks.

Ki-woo Crosses the First Threshold when he arrives at the Parks home and accepts the job to be the tutor to their daughter Da-hye. The Tests, Allies and Enemies stage of the journey shows the slow infiltration of the Park home by the Kims, and Ki-woo falls in love with Da-hye and develops the same desires for her that Min had. First, Ki-woo gets his sister, Ki-jung hired as an art teacher for the Parks’ son, Da-song. Then his father, Ki-taek is hired as the chauffeur after Ki-woo and Ki-jung plant a pair of girl’s underwear in the car, framing the chauffeur for having sex in it. Finally, they find out that Moon-gwang, the housekeeper, who had been working in the house since the previous owner and architect lived there, is allergic to peaches. They secretly expose her to them, causing her to go into coughing fits, and allowing Ki-taek to manipulate a rag so it looks like she coughed up blood. With her gone, Ki-taek gives a professional looking business card that had been designed by Ki-jung to Mr. Park that’s for a fake staffing company for high-class clients. Mrs. Park calls and, sure enough, Ki-woo’s mother, Chung-sook is hired as the new housekeeper. All the while, Ki-jung, Ki-taek and Chung-sook all go under pseudonyms to keep the ruse realistic.

The Approach happens with the Parks leaving for a camping trip during a rain storm, and the Kims taking the opportunity to stay at their house and drink the Parks’ booze. Everything seems to be going great until Moon-gwang rings the bell. She gets inside, saying she left something in the basement. Chung-sook follows her and sees Moon-gwang struggling to open a secret passage that even the Parks don’t know about. It leads to a secret bunker that the home’s original owner had installed in case the North Koreans attacked.  Hidden in the bunker is Moon-gwang’s husband, Geun-se. He’s been down there for four years, avoiding debt collectors and loan sharks, and Moon-gwang has secretly been bringing him food. Chung-sook is about to call the police to turn them in when the rest of the Kims, who had been listening out of site, fall into the bunker. They refer to each other by their real names and Moon-gwang captures all of it on video on her phone, and threatens to expose them. The Supreme Ordeal follows as Moon-gwang and Geun-se take advantage of their new found power. That is until the Parks call and tell Chung-sook that the camping trip was cancelled due to rain and they’ll be home in eight minutes. A huge fight ensues with Ki-taek tying up Geun-se back in the bunker and Chung-sook pushing Moon-gwang down the steps of the passage, causing her to crack her skull.  The Reward shows the family escaping the house, but not before hearing what the Parks really think of them. They return to their home to find it flooded. Ki-woo grabs the stone and they spend the night in a local shelter.


The Resurrection stage brings the Kims back to the Parks’ house for the son’s birthday party, and all of the Parks’ high society friends are there. After making out with Da-hye, Ki-woo goes down to the shelter to check on Moon-gwang and Geun-se. Moon-gwang has succumbed to her head injury and Geun-se attacks Ki-woo, eventually bludgeoning him with the stone. Now totally insane, he goes up to the party and attacks the Kims, stabbing Ki-jung with a kitchen knife and fighting with Chung-sook, who eventually stabs him with a skewer. Park’s reaction to how Geun-se smells is too much for Ki-taek, and he stabs Park in the chest before disappearing.

The Return with the Elixir shows Ki-woo surviving his attack, although Ki-jung wasn’t as lucky. After recovering Ki-woo goes to the Parks’ house. Another family lives there now, but he sees the outside light flickering in a pattern. We had seen earlier that Geun-se had access to switches that turned exterior lights on and off and he knew Morse code. Ki-woo sees a similar pattern and deciphers the message is from his father who hid in the bunker after killing Park. He’s surviving and hopes that Ki-woo and his mother are well. Ki-woo writes a letter to his father telling him that he’s going to work hard and make a lot of money so that one day he can buy that house and they’ll all be reunited.

That clear hero’s journey, along with universal themes of family and class envy, helped to make this South Korean film the darling of the American Academy Awards. it doesn’t matter who is telling the story or ultimately what the story is about. As long as the structure is in the story, anyone will be able to relate to it and enjoy it.

Did the Academy get it right?

I don’t think they got it wrong. Parasite was not my personal favorite movie of the year, but the reasons I explained above certainly show that it deserved to win. It also wouldn’t shock me if this was a course correction for Green Book winning the previous year and all of the backlash that created. Was Parasite a worthy winner? Yes, it was. Was it the film I would have voted for? No it was not. I would have voted for Joker, Jojo Rabbit and 1917 ahead of it. For me, those films were more compelling, more dramatic and more entertaining. I would have voted for Parasite ahead of Little Women, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and A Marriage Story, as I didn’t feel those films were on the same level, although I did feel the acting in A Marriage Story was sublime. Parasite certainly did everything it needed to do. It just wasn’t my personal favorite film of the year.

Should you see it?

Yes, you should. This is a remarkable film that is well made with an exquisite story that is well-told. If you are an aspiring filmmaker, then this is a film that you can study for the choices made in the direction, the cinematography and the art direction. If you are an aspiring screenwriter, then this is a film you can learn from in terms of constructing a story and developing characters. If you simply like movies, this is a dramatic movie with marvelous acting and an unpredictable story. It is certainly worth your time.

1917 – An Intense Movie Well-Shown

There is a reason 1917 is crushing it at the Box Office. Yes, it’s one of the most intense films I’ve seen in a long time. It almost never lets up. Even scenes in which the action and the tension seem to lessen in order for the audience to catch their collective breath, there is still an underlying feeling of tension that danger is never far away. Perhaps it’s around the next corner. Perhaps it’s on the other side of a closed door. Perhaps it’s waiting in the very room they’re in. Just as in a real war setting, you never know when that fatal bullet will strike, when the death blow will be dealt. But what is really propelling the popularity of this film is that it tells a compelling story with which the audience can engage.

With this film, Director and co-screenwriter Sam Mendes is cementing himself as one of the great story tellers of his generation. Indeed, everything about 1917 is superb. The acting is at once subtle and dynamic. Director of Photography Roger Deakins is at his light painting best. Mendes own direction runs at a pace that feels impossible to keep up, but does so in ways that are riveting and emotional. It was also impressively shot in a way that made the whole film feel like one continuous shot, similarly to Birdman. The screenplay, co written by Mendes and Krysty Wilson-Cairns, shows way more than it tells, which is exactly what you want from a screenplay. It might not be hyperbolic to feel that this film is something close to a masterpiece.

One thing I also noticed while watching the film was how strong of a Hero’s Journey it had and how archetypal the storytelling was. It would have been easy for Mendes to have turned this into a simple and forgettable action movie like 2014’s Fury, but instead we got a carefully crafted, thematically strong story with an anti-war message that was subtle and subdued, and didn’t disparage the warriors.

The emotion stayed just under the surface. It was always ready to explode, but the men, like the men of that generation, kept it stifled, for fear of showing weakness. They should have been robots, but somehow this subtle showing of emotion, this overt stifling of emotion, created a much more gut wrenching emotional situation. There are two moments in the film where characters briefly allow their emotions to get the better of them, and then immediately stifle them. This stifling of emotion makes the audience feel even more sympathy for these characters because they’re surrounded by death and heartbreak, but they must appear outwardly strong, not only in the face of the enemy, but in the faces of their own.

And that speaks to the duality and depth of this film. The main characters are on a mission to prevent an attack from happening. This would normally be antipathy to a war story, but the goal of the characters in this story is not to defeat the enemy, but to prevent a scenario that would lead to their own ultimate defeat. That means having patience and prudence and the strength to show restraint. A WWI film from the 50’s called Paths of Glory, directed by Stanley Kubrick, showed the consequences of seemingly showing cowardice in front of the enemy, and talking yourself into attacking against overwhelming odds. The anti-war message in Paths of Glory showed the folly of war through the pompous arrogance of the generals and how their rash decisions cause their subordinates to suffer. Ultimately in Paths of Glory, characters were punished for failing to attempt that impossible assault. In 1917, the main goal of the main characters was to prevent that impossible assault from happening in the first place, as the generals are trying to prevent one of their own subordinates from rushing blindly into a rash assault.

That component on the story creates an anti-war theme that’s caught within the subtext of the premise rather than being preached to us throughout the narrative. The premise is that English army intelligence has discovered that a battalion of troops is walking into a trap, and two young soldiers need to cross the front lines in order to get that information to them to save them from a slaughter. Oh, by the way, one of the two soldiers also has a brother in that battalion.

One thing that can’t be overstated is the strength of the screenplay. Anyone who has followed this blog with any amount of regularity knows that I am an advocate of the 4-act structure in a screenplay, and the screenplay for 1917 has that. Unfortunately doing an act-by-act breakdown will reveal spoilers, and this is a film where I particularly don’t want to do that. Aside from the structure, one of the strengths of the screenplay is that important things happen throughout the story and those events all heighten the drama. Knowing about them ahead is time would lessen your enjoyment of the film, so perhaps this script breakdown will come sometime in the future.

Another thing that you know if you follow this blog is that I am a disciple of The Hero’s Journey. Again, I don’t want to do a full on Hero’s Journey breakdown because I don’t want to give out any spoilers since the movie just came out, but suffice it to say, 1917 has a complete and compelling Hero’s Journey. One thing I can say about it is that it’s not a traditional Hero’s Journey. All of the stages are there, but some of them happen in an nontraditional order. For example, the Meeting of the Mentor stage actually happens throughout the story, as different Mentors guide our hero along his journey. Some are traditional mentors and others are more unique in the lessons they teach him, but the journey has several mentors right up to the very end that teach the hero as well as the audience about the world of the story.

That leads me to another point. This is essentially a road movie. Yet another thing that you will know if you follow this blog is that I am not a fan of road movies. I feel they tend to be episodic and the episodes rarely build the drama. Rather, they’re often vignettes that don’t build on each other and you can change the order of then around and it would have no affect on the story. These films often lack the spine or through-line that builds a narrative. In 1917, however, the road that the main characters go on is the through-line. Each stop they make leads to the next one, and each stop has something happen in it that pushes the narrative forward, and each stop has an affect on something that happens later or happened earlier in the story.

Another point that needs to be expanded on is the paucity of dialogue, especially in the second half of the film. There is some small talk between the soldiers as traveling friends will take part in. There are examples of witty banter and there is some exposition through dialogue, mostly in the first act. But once we get to Act IIB, there’s almost no dialogue with the exception of a couple of key scenes. The story telling is almost entirely visual at that point, and it couldn’t be more riveting or intense. 

What’s more, the screenplay works in tandem with Roger Deakins’ superb cinematography to tell a compelling story. As I said earlier, no one paints with light like Deakins, and there is a scene with night flares and shadows where we come in and out of darkness. In this scene, however, darkness means safety and light means danger. If you can be seen in the light, you can be shot. The darkness offers cover and it’s one of the few times in cinematic history that I can remember rooting for darkness. 

Overall, what makes a film like 1917 so refreshing and such a breath of fresh air is the story telling. It’s a war movie without an overt amount of special effects. It doesn’t have a ton of traditional action sequences, so when an action sequence does come around it feel that much more intense. Plus, the action scenes build in intensity as the film presses on. This is a textbook example of terrific storytelling and any aspiring screenwriter should study it in order to hone their own craft.

My Thoughts on Joker

Man, Joker is an intense movie. Everything about Director Todd Phillips’ origin story for the iconic villain is intense, from the incredible performance by Joaquin Phoenix to the excellent story, which feels more like a Scorsese mash-up than a DC popcorn movie. It’s interesting. I can see several variations on how this could have been pitched. When I first started seeing trailers for it, I thought perhaps someone pitched a psychopath movie, and the executives at Warner Bros decided to replace whoever was going to be the main character with the Joker in order tap into the built in DC/comic book audience and give it some crossover appeal that would portend a better chance at success at the box office. Another more plausible scenario for a possible pitch was someone pitching a remake of The King of Comedy, but that same executive stating accurately that no one gives a shit about The King of Comedy, but substituting the Joker for Rupert Pupkin would deliver that built in DC/comic book audience and that built in Scorsese/cinemaphile audience that would portend some crossover appeal and perhaps open up the possibility of it being Oscar-bait.

Well, whoever came up with that idea is a flat-out genius because that’s what we got.

We got The King of Comedy meets Taxi Driver with just a splash of Batman. When it comes to comic book/super-hero movies, Joker is much more similar to Logan that it is to really any other films of that budding genre. It has no resemblance whatsoever to the cookie-cutter, quarter pounder with cheese films that Marvel has been serving up for the past decade. It bears even less resemblance to the tripe that Warner Bros and DC have been putting out in a vain attempt to tap into that Marvel market. No one has super powers in this movie. No one is fighting for truth, justice and the American way. This is a movie about a small, mentally unstable man who finally gets sick of being stepped on, and through either reality or fantasy, realizes that his only true joy is in creating anarchy.

In The King of Comedy, Rupert Pupkin played sublimely by Robert De Niro, is obsessed with the Johnny Carson-like TV host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), and he’s built a fantasy that he’ll one day appear on his show and become friends with him. Rupert dreams of being a standup comic even though he’s never performed in front of an audience in his life, and he eventually kidnaps Jerry as a means of getting on to his show. Directed by Martin Scorsese, it never reaches the kind of darkness that Taxi Driver achieved, but it takes a satirical and poignant look at the desire for fame as well as fame’s price.

Taxi Driver, on the other hand, and also directed by Scorsese and also starring De Niro, takes a probing look at the underbelly of New York City in the 1970’s and the cesspool of depravity that it had become. It also takes a probing look at how lonely people like Travis Bickle (De Niro) can get, even when they’re surrounded by millions of people, and how that loneliness can manifest itself in unhealthy and self-destructive ways.

In Joker, Phillips took both of these ideas and mashed them together. Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) isn’t as obsessed with Johnny Carson-like TV host Murray Franklin (De Niro) as Rupert Pupkin was with Jerry Langford, and he’s not interested in becoming a vigilante in order to save a young prostitute like Travis Bickle. He’s just a lonely, disturbed man who is getting no help in this world. The super-rich like Thomas Wayne care nothing for his plight, and the government is too ineffectual in every aspect of its existence to be able to make a difference in Arthur’s life. Combine that with a mentally and physically disabled mother that he has to take care of, and you have the recipe for a man who is about to snap.

The screenplay for Joker is impressive.

There was a lot to like about this movie, but I want to take a moment to discuss the script, penned by Phillips and Scott Silver. For the most part, this was a supremely well-written screenplay. It actually hit many of the same beats as The King of Comedy, but the story was structured in a different way. There were actually four acts in this script as we slowly watch Arthur Fleck devolve into the Joker. The first act shows Arthur’s Ordinary World of struggling to keep his own mental health together while also struggling to hold on to his job as a clown, and also struggling to care for his ailing mother. In the second act he’s been fired from his job, and then commits his first murder. Actually, murders. He’s starting to realize that he doesn’t just have to roll over and that he has the power to fight back. He starts out the third act by believing that he’s learned the truth about something, but then finding out the complete opposite and he comes to the devastating conclusion that his whole life has been a lie and that he’s never been happy for one second of it. The fourth act and climax of the film shows that he can find happiness, but it’s only in creating anarchy, and the more disorderly and deadly a situation becomes, the happier and more satisfied he is. This is an exceptional script as the character arc and the dramatic arc of the plot move together hand in hand. It also has long stretches with little to no dialogue, demonstrating that Phillips and Silver were able to show rather than to tell.

Joaquin Phoenix is one of the great actors of this generation.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention the performance of Joaquin Phoenix. He’s always had a dark edge to him, whether he’s playing Theodore in Her or Commodus in Gladiator or Johnny Cash in Walk the Line, Phoenix excels at playing characters with inner demons that they’re trying to suppress, either consciously or subconsciously. As Arthur Fleck, Phoenix plays a man who fully understands that he has demons and discovers that he feel better when he lets them out. He spends the first three quarters of the movie suppressing them, and it’s as though he’s living in a prison of his own making with walls built of the medication that he takes. It’s only after he allows himself to be free that we see him truly happy. Of course, this is as a murderous, anarchistic psychopath, but hey, he’s happy.

The sheer intensity that Phoenix brings to the role is palpable. It doesn’t matter if he’s laughing for no reason, dancing down stairs to music that only he hears, or killing would-be attackers in the subway, Joaquin Phoenix delivers in Joker in a way that is certain to get him noticed come awards season.

There is one last point I’d like to make and that is my personal opinion about the direction that Warner Bros should take the DC universe. Warners and DC should forget about competing with Marvel. Marvel has that audience wrapped up. That audience is faithful, loyal and utterly devoted. Marvel movies are polished, generic and vanilla so that they appeal to the lowest common denominator and they cast the widest possible net. There isn’t anything wrong with that. Marvel movies make boat loads of money every time out and will likely continue to do so into the future.

But Warner Bros has always been at their best when they’ve been subversive. When Walt Disney was producing Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck and Goofy cartoons, Warner Bros was producing Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck and Porky Pig. Disney cartoons were fun, wholesome, family fair and Warner Bros cartoons were violent, edgy and rebellious. Warner Bros was the original home of the Gangster Movie with stars like Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney providing early tent polls for the studio. Warner Bros has always been the edgy and gritty studio that makes hard boiled movies that are as tough as five-dollar steaks. Joker is a very fine example of that attitude and style of film making, and I believe that Warner Bros should go all-in on it. They should consider moving their cinematic comic book universe into an area that Marvel couldn’t go into even if they wanted to. Perhaps it wouldn’t be casting as wide of a net, but it would be a whole lot better than what they’ve been doing up to this point. It also might attract real film makers who are interested in deeper stories and deeper examinations and explorations of the psyches of their characters. I’d be willing to bet that they’d find an audience that, while perhaps not as large as the Marvel audience, would be no less loyal.

Screenplay Analysis: Green Book

I know I’ve been obsessing over Green Book lately. I wrote my thoughts here on Green Book winning Best Picture, but it should also be noted that it won Best Original Screenplay, and I thought that a brief breakdown of the script was in order. What was special about this script? What did it do that worked? What did it do that was unique? What did it do that separated it from the other scripts that were also nominated?

One thing the screenplay for Green Book did that was special was that it took risks. Anyone who follows this blog knows that I am a stickler for story structure, especially for unknown writers. However, a good writer can mess around with story structure so that it doesn’t necessarily hit all of the beats at exactly the expected moments and still end up with a terrific screenplay. Taking it a step further, most people who read this blog regularly will know that I advocate for 4-Act structure rather than the more traditional 3-Act structure that most experts espouse. Green Book is actually very close to only being three acts. I say, “very close” because it does have an act 2B, although it’s very short. I can confidently say this because Green Book follows a clear Hero’s Journey outline, which almost by default, makes it a 4-act story.

That’s the beauty of following the Hero’s Journey model in your writing. As Christopher Vogler explains in his book, The Writer’s Journey, the Hero’s Journey is flexible and allows you to play with the structure. You can change the order of the stages of the Journey, as they did in Green Book, and still have a tight and compelling screenplay. You can have some stages last longer than usual and make others very short, again as they did in Green Book, and still have a structurally sound story with conflict and an effective dramatic arc.

Here is an outline of the stages of the Hero’s Journey and where they fit in to the plot of Green Book.

Ordinary World: Tony “Lip” Vallelonga (Viggo Mortenson) is a nightclub bouncer at New York City’s Copacabana in the early 1960’s. We learn that the club is going to be closed for several weeks and he’s going to have a hard time getting by. We see he is respected, tough, and resourceful (stealing then returning a customer’s hat for profit and praise, covering a fire hydrant with a trash can when he parks in front of it, and winning a hot dog eating contest). We also see that he’s racist when he throws away drinking glasses after his wife, Delores (Linda Caellini), offered water to two African-American plumbers who fixed his kitchen sink.

Call to Adventure: He’s offered the job by Dr. Shirley (Mahershala Ali) to be his driver as Dr. Shirley’s Trio plays a series of musical engagements in the Midwest and the Deep South.

Refusal of the Call: Tony turns him down when he’s told he needs to do laundry, shine shoes, be a personal valet, etc. He tells Dr. Shirley that he’s not a butler. Then he turns down another job as muscle for a mobster.

Meeting the Mentor: There are two examples that meet the classic definition. The first is when Tony meets the record label execs who pay him the money and give him the Green Book, that lists the hotels and restaurants that Dr. Shirley can stay and eat at when travelling through the South. This is a very archetypal moment, as they serve the classic mentor role of giving the Hero tools that he’ll need on his journey. Then Tony meets Dr. Shirley’s backup musicians, Oleg and George. Oleg will prove to be more of a Mentor, although his mentoring duties are limited but important. Oleg ends up being an archetypal Shapeshifter, as well, as he not only acts as a mentor, but spends scenes both as an enemy and an ally.

Crossing the First Threshold: It’s as simple as when they get in the car and start driving. That is the point where the adventure begins and we cross from Act I to Act II.

Tests, Allies and Enemies: This stage sets the rules and shows the reality of the two men not understanding each other. Tony fails several tests at the first, like during Dr. Shirley’s first concert when he plays craps with other chauffeurs. He seems to fail another test when he steals the jade stone from the gift shop, but ends up winning when he keeps the rock and it ends up being an archetypal token. He passes a test when he makes the custodian in the Indiana concert hall get the right piano for the second concert. He passes yet another test when they share KFC, but fails when he throws his cup out of the car window and Dr. Shirley makes him back up to pick it up. At this point, the two of them start to connect. Then, there is the first night in Kentucky when Tony rescues him from rednecks in a bar. Each test becomes more difficult and raises the stakes. This is especially true as they move through the South, starting with the first concert in Raleigh, NC when Dr. Shirley isn’t allowed to use the bathroom in the house, through Dr. Shirley helping Tony write the letters, Dr. Shirley not being allowed to buy the suit, and culminating with Tony bailing Dr. Shirley out of trouble at the YMCA only to build Dr. Shirley’s resentment.

Approach: They’re pulled over by racist cops on a rainy night and arrested.

Supreme Ordeal: They’re sitting in jail, and Dr. Shirley chastises Tony for resorting to violence and not maintaining his dignity. Dr. Shirley calls none other than Bobby Kennedy to get them out of their current situation, and then loses his cool on Tony when Tony accuses him of not being “black” enough.

Reward: Tony writes his own letter. Dr. Shirley stands up for himself in the restaurant in Birmingham, which was the opposite of the capitulation with the bathroom in North Carolona. Finally, he plays “his” music, which happens to be Chopin, to an unlikely yet adoring crowd.

The Road Back: A literal road back as Dr. Shirley drives the car so Tony can make it home in time for Christmas Eve.

Resurrection: Tony wakes up in the car and returns to his family a changed man, no longer racist and with a broader mind of the world around him.

Return with the Elixir: Dr. Shirley shows up at Tony’s apartment in Christmas Eve, and a bridge has been built.

Not only is there a very effective Hero’s Journey that allowed the writers Nick Vallelonga, Brian Curie and Peter Farrely to play with the structure, but there is some sensational character work going on in this screenplay. One of the criticisms of the film was that Dr. Shirley is nothing more than a trope to allow Tony to overcome his racism. I disagree with that criticism for a couple of reasons. First of all, how the hell else is Tony going to overcome his racism? If you are a racist, the way to overcome racism is to be exposed to people of other races so that you can understand their humanity, get to know them as human beings, and develop some sort of empathy for who they are and where they come from. That’s what happens in this film. Tony wasn’t going to receive this enlightenment all on his own. He needed to go on this journey with Dr. Shirley in order to achieve this character growth, and the writers did a good job of at first giving Tony financial motivation to keep Dr. Shirley out of trouble because that’s a realistic notion. But then as the story went on, Tony and Dr. Shirley formed an emotional bond that allowed Tony to see Dr. Shirley not as a black man, but as a man.

For his part, Dr. Shirley also goes through a dynamic character ark. He starts the film with the outward appearance of a confident and aloof man. Throughout the film we get glimpses of his vulnerability which gives him depth as a character. We see him as a real person with real emotions and real problems beyond his race in a bigoted world. He is truly alone and doesn’t feel a connection to anyone because of his unique circumstances. Through Tony, Dr. Shirley discovers that he can fit into all of the worlds that he either rejected or thought had rejected him.

Overall, there is a lot of great technical screenwriting happening in Green Book. It is a well-structured story and has characters that change and grow in realistic and emotional ways. If you are an aspiring writer, this is a script you should study, because it demonstrates both dramatic storytelling and effective character development. This is a script worth studying and was worthy of the Oscar it won.

Captain Marvel or: How Marvel Became the McDonald’s of Cinema

Few movies in the Marvel canon have been as anticipated as Captain Marvel, and few Marvel movies have been as divisive upon release. Marvel films are generally popcorn movies with little in the way of overt social commentary, which is usually just fine. Their sole purpose it to entertain you, and most of the time that’s all they should be expected to do. However, this was the first film in the Marvel universe with a female protagonist and it seems like everyone has an opinion on how that’s affecting the general public’s attitudes towards the film. I’m not particularly concerned about all that noise, and I’m just going to tell you my attitude towards the film.

I want to begin with the caveat that, while I generally like Marvel films, I’m not a giant fan of them. There area couple that for me have earned A-grades (The Avengers: Infinity War, Iron Man), and a couple that have earned very low grades (The Avengers: Age of Ultron, Iron Man 2). But the vast majority of Marvel films fall somewhere in the B-minus to B-plus range. They’re entertaining. They’re beautiful visually and generally have outstanding production design. They are quite often humorous. But they tend to be wide and shallow money grabs, which is what they have to be in order to appeal to the massive audiences that they attract.

In his online Master Class, Aaron Sorkin makes an interesting analogy. He mentions how the least offensive, most popular form of beef is the McDonald’s hamburger. We can debate the merits of that statement on its own, but his point was that McDonald’s sells a lot of hamburgers. They’ve cast a wide net and more people eat McDonald’s hamburgers in a day than almost anyone else combined sells in a year.

Marvel is essentially the McDonald’s of cinema.

And I say that more as an observation than as a critique. It is not a good or a bad thing. It is what it is. Just like at a McDonald’s, there’s something for everyone in a Marvel film. You’re going to like it. It will fill you up. You may even leave satisfied. But it’s not going to offer you anything that’s particularly memorable or profound, and almost all of them are the same.

Which brings us to the latest offering from Marvel, Captain Marvel. With all of the noise I’d been hearing about this film, I was expecting to see a movie that tackled gender inequality head on. I expected to see a movie that took a serious and critical look at preconceived notions in our society of gender roles. I expected to see a film that kicked off the bounds of cinematic gender stereotypes and moved forward into a brave new world of equality. While the film scratched the surface of those issues, it did little to take a critical look at them beyond much more than a cursory glance.

Captain Marvel was little more than a typical Marvel film.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Sometimes I love a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, and nobody does better fries. Wash it all down with an ice cold Coke and you’ve got a true American classic. And that’s what we got with Captain Marvel. We got fast paced action scenes, beautiful art direction, a cool 90’s-era soundtrack, and just enough character introspection and pathos to keep us engaged. They tried to ride the wave of the hero trying to remember her past, a-la the Bourne series, but it never reached the level of engagement where I truly cared about who Carol Danvers (Larson) was or where she came from.

This is the key element to my critique. This movie is well on it’s way to making a bazillion dollars, so obviously a giant grain of salt needs to be taken with this. Again, Marvel is selling Big Macs, not prime rib. But Marvel has also given us characters like T’Challa from Black Panther who are deep characters with internal conflict who have to decide to look back or to move forward. T’Challa was especially effective because he spends most of the story holding his late father in high esteem before discovering that his father was a flawed person who made critical errors in judgement, leaving T’Challa to have to reconcile this before he could move forward.

The problem for Carol, as she comes to realize, is that she has always fallen down. When she was little, as a girl living in a boy’s  world, she couldn’t keep up. As a woman living in a man’s world, she had the same problem until (spoiler alert… I guess), she realized that each time she fell, she was able to get back up. I’m not sure what happened after she got up any of those times, because all we saw after she got up was a determined girl looking into the camera. We never saw her try again and succeed. We never saw her get a hit off the boy pitcher who knocked her down with a high and tight fastball. We never saw her win a go-cart race after she crashed. We never saw her complete the obstacle course during basic training. We never saw her overcome the discouraging words of her own father who told her she didn’t belong in the places she was trying to go.

Anyone can get up after they’ve fallen. Granted, not everyone does, but there’s nothing extraordinary about it. Getting up after you’ve been pushed down is a much greater accomplishment. Getting up, even as someone who is seemingly stronger than you is holding you down, is a greater accomplishment still. That’s how you get an audience to care about your character. That’s how you get her to be universally liked and appreciated. That is where my main frustration comes from this film. I didn’t care. The climax of this film should have been filled with emotion and it wasn’t. A movie like this should have allowed us to feel something, and it didn’t, so I left less satisfied than I cold have been. It seems as though Marvel was hoping that simply the novelty of a female superhero would be enough to make us care, and judging by the box office results, it was for most people. Perhaps it was the soft sexism of low expectations, because I think this film could have and should have done better.

I thought we were going to see a film that would inspire.

I said earlier that this was a typical Marvel film. What makes that statement so is that Captain Marvel, like many other Marvel films, is all flash and little substance. It wouldn’t have taken much to show Carol actually overcoming the people in her past who told her she couldn’t. Simply getting back up is not enough. We needed to see that she didn’t need superpowers to win the day. She (and girls and women everywhere) always had the power within them to overcome forces that have held them back. We’ve seen it throughout history, and we’re seeing it to this very day. Instead, Marvel stuck to their formula and gave us another Quarter Pounder with Cheese when they could (should?) have given us something a little more gourmet.

But let me say again. This is an entertaining movie, and if that’s what you’re looking for, then you should see it. If you haven’t seen it yet, however judging by the box office numbers, you probably have, then go in to it with the idea that you’re going to see a popcorn movie and not a social statement. Most of the time I’d be ok with that. Not every movie needs to do that. However, the opportunity was there for Captain Marvel to make that statement through its storytelling in a way that could have used subtext and would have been thoughtful. They could have at least given us an Umami Burger, but they stuck with what has worked for them, and it is continuing to work for them. However, eventually it is going to get stale. Hopefully they’ll get to a point where they’ll be comfortable taking more chances.

2018 Winner for Best Picture: Green Book

A bigoted night club bouncer is hired to be the driver of an African-American pianist on a tour of the segregated deep south of the early 1960’s.

In what would turn out to be one of the more controversial winners in years, Green Book took home the Academy’s highest honor. Based on a true story, it’s a movie that, on its surface, appears to be a story of overcoming prejudice and learning to appreciate people as individuals and treating them with empathy became embroiled in controversy over its production, the misbehavior of some of the talent involved and disagreements over the portrayal of the real-life characters.

All of the controversy will serve as a backdrop for what will ultimately be this film’s story. It is forever relegated to the long line of “controversial” winners, which is a long and storied line in Oscar history, and dates all the way back the Oscar’s earliest years (I’m looking at you, The Broadway Melody). This debate will likely rage on for some time, and for my part, I’ll add to it by saying that I liked the film very much. I watched it before hearing anything of the controversy surrounding it, and on its merits, I considered it one of the top five films of the year. The acting was terrific, the screenplay was well structured and well-written, proven out by the fact that it won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. I felt the direction was subtle and nuanced in a way that captured the emotion of the film without being heavy-handed.

One of the criticisms of Green Book is that it’s essentially Driving Miss Daisy redux, and that point needs to be addressed. You can see my review of Driving Miss Daisy here, but in a nutshell, I was not a fan of that film. Sure, it was a feel-good movie, and it helped catapult Morgan Freeman’s career to levels it previously hadn’t seen, but it was not the best picture of the 1989, and if we’re being honest, it wasn’t a very good film over all.  There were plenty of examples throughout the film where screenwriter Alfred Uhry and Director Bruce Beresford had opportunities to inject serious drama and tension in to the story and they always, always, and without exception failed to do so. As I pointed out in that blog post, it was almost as though Uhry and Beresford loved their characters too much to put them in uncomfortable positions. However, Green Book Director Peter Farrelly and co-writers Nick Vallelonga and Brian Currie had no such inhibitions.

Here’s a perfect example of the differing dynamics between the two films. There is a sequence in Driving Miss Daisy where Hoke has to drive Daisy to some relations in Mississippi. On the way, they’re pulled over by two state troopers, and after some initial back and forth where the officers chide Hoke for driving this car and ask where he got it from, despite the fact the Daisy is clearly sitting in the back seat, it’s determined that the car is Daisy’s and Hoke is driving her and the officers let them go before lamenting the fact privately between each other that a black man is allowed to drive a Jewish woman around without repercussions. That’s all. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it. Now, there’s a similar scene in Green Book where Tony (Viggo Mortensen) and Dr. Shirley (Mahershala Ali) are driving through Alabama and get pulled over by police on a rainy night. Since Dr. Shirley is African-American, he’s not allowed to be out after dark, and that’s why they’ve been pulled over. The lead trooper instructs his partner to pull Dr. Shirley from the car and some very tense moments ensue. The scene builds to a crescendo when the lead trooper insults Tony’s Italian heritage and Tony punches the cop out, leading to both of them being arrested. If you’re a screenwriter and you’ve taken David Freeman’s excellent course, Beyond Structure, then you know that the cop was “slamming” Tony. He was verbally attacking the very weakness that Tony has, leading Tony to react in the worst way possible.

So here we have two films that have similar circumstances and put their characters in similar situations, but handled those situations in wildly divergent manners. Driving Miss Daisy simply let its characters off the hook after a few tense moments, practically telegraphing to the audience not to worry because Hoke and Daisy are going to be just fine. Neither one of them needed to do anything extraordinary. The police, realizing Hoke and Daisy weren’t doing anything wrong, simply let them go. There was nothing proactive that Hoke or Daisy did that got them out of the situation. On the other hand, in Green Book, a similar encounter with police yielded vastly different, and much more dramatic results. The police were much more aggressive in this encounter. They were almost looking for trouble and they provoked Tony into being proactive. In fact, they provoked him into the most flawed trait of his character; the one that resorts to violence to solve his problems. In so doing, they put them into an even worse situation than he and Dr. Shirley were already in. Instead of allowing Tony and Dr. Shirley to go along their merry way, the stakes were raised. The next time we see them, they’re sitting in a jail cell with no reasonable expectation of getting out until Dr. Shirley uses his guile and his brain to get them out of the situation that Tony’s muscle could not, and had in fact made worse. The latter is a much better example of good story telling because it built the drama and the tension whereas the former diffused it.

Another reason that Green Book’s approach to this situation was better is because it forces the story to build in the next scene. Now Dr. Shirley and Tony have to figure out a way to get out of jail so that Dr. Shirley can make it on time to his next and final performance of the tour. In Driving Miss Daisy, Hoke and Daisy were simply on to her relatives’ home as though nothing else had happened. In Green Book, the stakes have been raised and now there is real concern on the part of the audience that they’re going to be stuck. Here’s where Green Book showed its superior depth by having Dr. Shirley chastise Tony for only resorting to violence and implores him to never lose his dignity. This line of the story will manifest itself during the climax when Tony has an opportunity to resort to violence, but that time Dr, Shirley is able to stop him.

This leads me to one of the controversies surrounding this film and that is its take on race relations. One of the criticisms is that Dr. Shirley needed a “white savior” and by focusing on Tony as the main character, we lose the full impact that southern segregation had on Shirley.

In fact, I found the opposite to be true, and I feel that point of view is short-sighted and misses some important context in this film. Certainly, there are a couple of moments throughout Act II where Tony has to come to Shirley’s rescue. Forgetting for a moment that one of the points that Shirley made when he first hired Tony to the job was that he’d need someone with Tony’s particular talents, meaning he needed his muscle in order to navigate the South, we have a symbiotic relationship between these two characters. Yes, Tony’s muscle is able to save Dr. Shirley a couple of times, a-la a knight in shining armor. But let’s not forget that the case could be made that Dr. Shirley saves Tony’s soul. Tony starts the film as a bigoted muscle head who is only marginally present for his wife and children. His simple background has stunted his intellectual and emotional growth, so he doesn’t know how to communicate with his wife and he’s reluctant to openly show her affection. After going on this journey with Dr. Shirley, and in true Hero’s Journey fashion, Tony returns to his Ordinary World a changed person with new knowledge and a broader point of view of the world. That notion has also been criticized as using Dr. Shirley as nothing more than a trope to assist Tony in his character growth. That is another short-sighted point of view because Dr. Shirley grows and changes as well. He goes through his own personal journey where Tony teaches him to be more comfortable in his own skin. Whereas Tony’s inner journey required him to accept a changing world and to be worldlier, Dr. Shirley’s was a journey of self-discovery and one where he needs to find his place in the world. He doesn’t need to shun his ethnicity, as he’s been trying to do his whole life. He doesn’t need to shun his sexuality, as he’s been doing his whole life. He just needs to be comfortable with who he is and to appreciate how he got here, and he wouldn’t have been able to do that if not for going on this journey with Tony. Dr. Shirly is not here just to motivate the change in Tony. Dr. Shirley goes through his own metamorphosis and is a different character at the end of the story than he was at the beginning. Ultimately, they end the story as equals, and equality is what we should be striving for.

Did the Academy get it right?

With all of the controversy surrounding the film, it’s hard to say that they did. Spike Lee was apparently so angry at the announcement that he got up and attempted to leave the theater before the acceptance speeches had been completed. Others have called into question the film’s accuracy in portraying these events, as it was based on a true story. There were other controversies surrounding the production that I’ll not get into now, but I will say this. Green Book is a wonderful film, and compared to the other films that were nominated against it, it is at least as worthy of being recognized as the best film of the year as any of them. Spike Lee’s BlackkKlansman was a very good film that was also based on a true story. It was a tense, riveting and unbelievable, yet true story about a black man who infiltrated the Ku Klux Klan. What keeps it a notch below Green Book for me is that John Stallworth, the main character, ends the film in much the same way he began it. There was little to no growth in his character and he had very few noticeable flaws. But it was an important film to be made and Spike Lee was the only director who could have made it. I understand why Black Panther was nominated, but I didn’t agree with the nomination. In fact, Black Panther wasn’t even the best Marvel movie to come out in 2018. The Avengers: Infinity War was more emotional, had better actions, more interesting characters, and was all around a better made movie. Vice tried to do too much and I believe Director Adam McKay tried to get a little too cute and tried to draw too much attention to himself, which was ultimately to the detriment of a fascinating story that included a sublime performance from Christian Bale as Vice President Dick Cheney. I was very disappointed with Roma, and found it to be underwhelming. Similarly to Driving Miss Daisy, it fell into the trap of approaching drama, but rarely paying it off. It was a year in the life of these people, and the character work was nice. It had beautiful cinematography and wonderful editing, but story-wise it was a mess. I loved The Favourite, and felt that Director Yorgos Lanthimos effectively channeled his inner Stanley Kubrick to give us a thoughtful tale with the hard lessons of being careful what you wish for. I was mildly surprised that Bohemian Rhapsody didn’t win. I’ve always been a fan of the music of Queen and I thought the film did a good job of dramatizing Freddie Mercury, who remains one of the great frontmen in the history of Rock music. A Star is Born was my personal favorite film of the year. From a pure production standpoint, it had everything that it needed. It had deep and compelling characters and it had a story that was both riveting and entertaining and ended up being emotionally satisfying, and it would have received my vote, had I had one. That said, I’m happy Green Book won. I liked it just a tick less than A Star is Born and the acting and storytelling in it made for terrific cinema.

Should you see it?

Only if you love great acting, emotional storytelling and thoughtful narratives. Another criticism of this film is that it was clearly Oscar-bait. Well, if that means they tried to make a good movie, then they succeeded. This film is worth your time. It might not be for everyone, but it’s a rich story with characters that you can fall in love with and root for. Based on that alone, it’s worth your time.