Why Die Hard is great, and Austin Powers is funny

After reading a fairly mundane script the other day, I started musing about that old saying (was it Robert McKee? Or has he just purloined it?) that good stories are about 'ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances'. That's nice. It's pithy, it's succinct, in fact it's been pared down so much that it doesn't really mean a lot.

And so it's never really helped me much, or even sauntered around in my brain. Until I read that rather tame 'thriller' script. I got to thinking about the definition of a thriller. Generally it involves someone (or a small group) isolated, either physically (i.e. Alien) or non physically (sociologically etc., i.e. Cape Fear). It usually also involves a supremely powerful and/or clever villain, whom the weak and under-equipped hero has to outsmart, out fight and otherwise generally be very tenacious. What's the best example of this I can think of? Die Hard. Yes, it's an action film, it's the action film, but as you can see from the rules just mentioned, it's most definitely an action-thriller. And what do I love about Die Hard? What makes it stand out? A watershed in the Action genre? Radically (at the time) it's hero wasn't superhuman. Until then, action heroes had been giant walls of muscle. Rambo toted a machine gun in each had. He killed people by the score without even looking, meanwhile an entire army of sharpshooters couldn't seem to hit him.

Not so with John McClane. For a start he's not all that muscular, no more so than your average construction worker. And why should he be? He's only a policeman, since when are they built like brick...outdoor lavatories? Does he know martial arts? No. Is he well equipped? No. He doesn't even have any shoes. I LOVE that. Isn't that a stroke of genius? There's no logical reason for that to be a part of the story, but if you say the words Die Hard to me, what immediately comes to mind is - Bruce Willis, hand gun, vest, no shoes. Why does it work? Because it makes him more vulnerable, even less prepared, and in the slightly embarrassing situation of finding himself in the action-film equivalent of being caught with your pants down. (Incidentally, as a kid I always wanted to see an action film where the hero has a stinking cold. What a strange child I was.)

So what was my point again? It's that, although John McClane is still not exactly realistic (He just happens to know how to use explosives and submachine guns, just because he's a cop. And of course, he carries his hand gun with him at all times, even on his pre-9/11 flight from New York to LA, even when he's stripped to his waist and making fists with his toes.), on the action hero spectrum, he's most decidedly at the 'more realistic' end. He's alone, he's tired, he's scared. That's a new one. He spends the first part of the film running away, hiding, and trying to call for help. Wouldn't you? Exactly! That's what you or I might do (if we could even find the courage to do that). He's a (relatively) ordinary person in an extraordinary situation.

Ok, a change of tack. Now let's look at Austin Powers. Why? Well it's the exact opposite; extraordinary people in ordinary situations. That would make a thriller fall flat on its face, but it's gold-dust for comedy writers. Why is Doctor Evil funny? Because when he wants some frickin' sharks with frickin' lasers attached to their heads, he's told he can't have them because they're endangered, he'll have to make do with sea bass instead. When someone suggests he should just shoot Austin Powers, he says he would rather an elaborate, slow death, leaving ample time for escape, and he won't even watch, he's just going to assume everything went to plan. And his demand for one miiiiillion dollars gets laughed out of town, what a pitiful sum of money in the REAL world.

And then there's archetypes. Shadow, trickster, guardian. Those Jungian archetypes don't work as they are unless you're Tolkien or Disney. But for the rest of us, it works like this: take your (almost)realistic hero, and force him to play those roles. McClane is sometimes a trickster (Now I have a machine gun, Ho, Ho, Ho.... and don't forget him throwing the body out of the window onto Al Powell's car. Classic tricksterism!), sometimes a wise helper (Ellis, tell them you don't know me!), but mostly the hero (er...Yippee Ki-Yay?). So I suppose what I'm getting at here is that rather than populating your story with archetypal characters, try to invent some more realistic ones, and decide - What would they do if they had to be a helper, hero etc.

So, there's my brainwave for one day. A brainwave of stuff people have already told me admittedly, but that's often how my brainwaves work.

To be a Script Reader

Welcome to Jon McGuffin's very first post. I am a would-be screenwriter and script reader in the UK.

I have been circling the idea of becoming a screenwriter, like a rather timid great white, for some time now. But the time has come, I've come out of the closet, I've sat my family down and said 'Mum, Dad, I think I want to be a writer' (That's a metaphor, I haven't spoken to my Dad in years!). And do you know what, that was bloody hard! I hadn't realised that, for me, the first step to becoming a writer was not, as everyone will tell you, to start writing (that's the second step), but to admit to myself that that's what I wanted to be, and that it was ok to want to be it. Hailing from a family of carpenters, brick layers and plumbers, I first had to admit that it's ok, it's perfectly allowable, it is a job.

But guess what? As far as being a job goes, you need to do all the work up front, and get paid (maybe) later. Like so many other would-be writers, I need to eat in the meantime, plus I'm already in debt from gaining a rather useless Film Studies degree. On top of that - I've always been of the opinion that most people only have a certain amount of 'rubbish job years', and I'm well past my quota. It's different for everyone, but each person only has a finite amount of time they can do menial, soul destroying, dead end jobs before they start to cry themselves to sleep or seriously consider buying an ice cream van and moving to Clacton. And when that happens, just my opinion, but I reckon it's time to look for a new job. One you might actually want to do.

So, here I am. Part time job that I hate just as much as when I was full time. Not much writing done (I claim that I'm still in training). No money coming in. I needed work that was in my chosen field, might be an opportunity to learn, and that I could do at home in my own time. Script reading beckoned.

I took a course at the Script Factory in Soho. It was very good, I highly recommend it, but it cost me my last £300. I thought it would be ok as I'd be making money back from it. Lets hope so. Next step, I got the Filmmakers' Year book from Amazon.co.uk (like the Writers' and Artists' Yearbook, but for Filmmakers, duh!). I went through it and parsed out the email addresses of anyone and everyone I thought might need a reader. Agents, production companies, distributors, you name it. How did I get on? I'll tell you another time!

I intend to start a regular blog on the whole process, because there's not much out there on the subject. I am hoping to pool some resources together and share them with you, any help from other readers welcome, any encouragement from anyone welcome, and who knows, this might be the start of a beautiful friendship (or online resource for people wanting to be script readers, if you prefer).

If you'd like more info try:

http://www.scriptfactory.co.uk/
Danny Stack's excellent blog http://www.dannystack.blogspot.com/