ISFO Competition

The International Student Film Organisation has asked me to post about their current short film screenwriting competition. Among the judges are Julie Gray, who has a good eye for scripts and deliver great feedback. Which is worth mentioning because the third prize for the 20 best scripts is a review of the script by the judges. Could be more valuable than the first prize of Mariner Writers Suite and the second prize, a scriptwriting book: "Screenwriting they can't resist".

So if you're curious, read more about it at their site.

And best of luck if you compete.

Out of Book

An expression from the world of chess, describes the phase of the game, when you leave behind the known opening moves and systems of 'the chess book'. This is where real players prefer to be, where the challenge happens. This is the critical state, in between chaos and order, where inspiration and new ideas emerge almost by themselves.

This is also where we should aim to put ourselves when working with drama, be it as writers, directors or actors. As professionals we have an understanding of the rules and systems of drama, and often we need to follow them strictly for a while, as we build up our game. But as soon as we have enough elements brought into play, we need to get out of book.

In my experience, by understanding the rules and systems from a more principled, dynamic view-point rather than as a rule-book, we put ourselves at a starting point, from where we'll quicker reach the 'out of book'-phase. Where the magic and the 'cooking-with-gas' happens.

By disciplining ourselves to constantly look for the unexpected, by reversing our own expectations, by letting any of our own mistakes or stupid criticism from others be a potential source to bring us out of book, we can get there, and stay there, and bring our game beyond book.

True complexity and sandbox-dramaturgy

Based on my effort to understand dramaturgy as principles rather than forms and my experience from creating two theater performances, developed and performed without a script, written or virtual, but with the principled dramaturgy along with devising and improv-techniques, I'm gradually getting ready to talk about sandbox-dramaturgy.

Often complexity is considered an essential quality in art. This is obviously true, but often misunderstood. An incomprehensible piece of art is not necessarily complex, but perhaps just meaningless on every level, hiding behind avant-garde rhetorics. A case of the emperors new clothes.

Science has some very simple definitions of complexity, which could or even should be applied in the understanding of art. Put simply, complexity arises when enough elements within the borders of a system are able to interact and influence each other. And enough elements are quite many, like every word, line, visual, sound etc. in a film. They all need to have connections. They need to operate within the boundaries of a system, or else their connections are not valid, but accidental and not contributing to the accumulation of complexity.

In art this creates the effect that fx. a play can be interpreted in many ways in new performances, while still remaining true to the original text. There are many connections to be made validly within the system of the play, and within its context of the larger system of the theater as an art form, and the even larger system of the human experience.

This is also why art will always be most exciting on the crossroads of the avant-garde; the formulation of new system rules; and the tradition; the established golden system rules which refer to the accumulated system experience of both the art form and human experience. If you leave the tradition completely behind, there are not really any system boundaries, and then no complexity. If you stay completely inside traditional rules, the connections of elements inside the system are bereft of value, as they have all been understood and explored long ago, and thus no real interaction and influence happens between the elements.

My sandbox dramaturgy is an attempt to define tools needed to create the framework for a live theater performance, which is both consistent and satisfying dramatically and yet never repeats itself, but will be different in every performance.

The sandbox-dramaturgy consist of building system boundaries for a dramatic universe, using simple, understandable dramatic tools, like place, time and basic conflict and theme. This is the sandbox. Then it needs to be filled with sand by using the dramatic principles to create elements inside the system; primarily the characters, but also visual, text and other elements, which can be brought into play inside the system boundaries. And actually, if this is for a theater performance, you also need a steady inflow of new elements. Which can both come from the audience, the performers/creators and/or any other other outside source.

This creates a performance, where complexity emerges by itself, which will be constantly renewed in new performances, by meeting a new audience, by accumulating experience, redefining rules as the old ones fades in substantial meaning, but still remaining the same system, exploring the same dramatic territory.

This kind of work is hugely fascinating as a scriptwriter/director, and as you let go of your control of the detail and every moment, you'll discover much more about what drama is and can do. Experiences which can also be brought into more traditional ways of creating drama.

Jokums sprogområde

Debatindlæg til Politiken, d.10/3 2011 - uredigeret version

(For english readers, this is an opinion piece I wrote for a Danish newspaper, about the lack of proper development of new writing in Denmark, especially at The Royal Theatre)

Jokums sprogområde

Jokum Rohdes nye stykke, "Manson", der lige nu spiller på Det Kongelige Teater, er fremragende eksempel på, hvad der galt med udviklingen af ny scenedramatik i vores lille sprogområde og især på Det Kongelige Teater. Det stykke skulle aldrig være sat op, men det sker det desværre alt for ofte, at ufærdigt eller dårligt håndværk sættes på scenen. Magter det teater overhovedet at løfte deres lovbundne opgave om at spille ny dansk dramatik?

Det er ikke nogen nem sag at lave dramatik - det er komplekst, selv det mest enkle, og dertil en mærkværdig blanding af subjektivt og objektivt. Fra dramatikerne, over instruktørerne til skuespillerne. Især skuespillerne, der skal stå frem og levere ordene. Derfor klapper jeg gerne efter endt forestilling, selv hvis den ikke har været synderligt god, for om ikke andet at vise skuespillerne respekt for indsatsen og modet. Men efter alle ordene i "Manson" havde lydt, kunne jeg ikke få mig selv til at slå mine hænder sammen i applaus. Stykket var for pinligt.

Sådan plejer det at være med Jokum Rohdes stykker, alt for mange ord, alt for lidt dramatik. Derfor har jeg tit undret mig over hvorfor Det Kongelige er blevet ved at bestille stykker hos netop ham - men dennegang er det bare endnu værre. Nok især fordi han forsøger at slå det største brød op, så kollapset føles så meget mere pinligt. Anmelderne er er alle mere eller mindre enige. Stoffet er interessant, der er bare for alt for mange ord. Hos Information siger Anne Middelboe f.eks. “jeg kunne næsten ikke holde ud, at teksten til Manson ikke er blevet beskåret med samme kraft som ligene i forestillingen - og at teksten endte med at lemlæste sig selv med sine alt for mange ord”.

Men det ville ikke have været nok at skære i teksten. Det som mangler er en klar dramatisk idé, som værkets struktur bygges op om. Selv hvis den idé havde været noget om kaos eller lignende. Og der kræves et håndværk til at eksekvere idéen. Det er ligesom vittigheder. De virker hvis de har en klar idé og udforming - selv hvis vittigheden er absurd. Men her mangler både dramatiker, dramaturg og instruktør tilsyneladende enhver færdighed til at finde og levere vitsen. "Manson" er det værste eksempel jeg har set. Det er vel ikke alene Jokum Rohdes skyld - han har bare skrevet af karsken bælg, opfyldt af fantasifostre og civilisationsvæmmelse. Al respekt for det, men han kan bare ikke håndværket og den klare tankegang, som gør at man kan slippe afsted med det, som han forsøger på. Men hvad jeg ikke fatter er, at Det Kongelige Teater beslutter at spille stykket. At bruge så store resurser. Vi taler om Store Scene og 12 skuespillere. Det koster kassen. Så skal man for fanden være ret sikker på at stykket virker. At vitsen er en vits - og ikke en sludder for en sladder.

Jeg har selv arbejdet en kortere periode som dramaturg på Det Kongelige og er i det hele taget godt bekendt med udviklingsprocesserne af ny dramatik i den danske teaterverden. Eller skal vi sige mangel på udvikling? At skrive dramatik er ikke nogen eksakt videnskab, og der findes en milliard måder at gøre det på, men som alt andet i verden er der mønstre og principper for hvordan dramatik fungerer. Det kan man lære og blive ved med at lære. Og et teater kan tilrettelægge udviklingsprocesser, som sikrer teatret mod at stå med et halv-godt/dårligt stykke. Men alligevel sker det igen og igen i dansk teater. Man bestiller et stykke, får et ufærdigt/klodset produkt leveret, taler lidt om beskæringer og forsøger så at få det bedste ud af det på scenen. Det er simpelthen for uproft og slapt. Og et ufatteligt resursespild.

Jokum Rohdes “Manson” er bestemt ikke en enlig svale de seneste 10-15 år. Da Claus Hoffmeyer overtog ansvaret for skuespillet var det med med en erklæring om at prioritere den nye danske dramatik og bød på en første sæson med mange nye danske stykker, der desværre stort set alle floppede. Et eksempel fra perioden er filminstruktøren Carsten Rudolfs “Genfærd”, hvor alle på teatret vidste at det var et stykke som ikke fungerede, men ingen greb ind. Under Mikkel Harder blev det ikke meget bedre, selvom han stod på en konference for ny dramatik og brystede sig med at de havde haft Jokum Rohdes nye stykke, “Pinnochios Aske”, i en udviklingsworkshop, men han glemte at fortælle, det ikke var Det Kongelige Teater, men en lille forening, Dramatikercentrum, som havde arrangeret og bekostet den nævnte workshop. Og nu har vi Emmet Feigenberg som skuespilchef og man kunne have håbet på bedre, eftersom han hentede Jesper Bergmann ind som chefdramaturg, der kommer med en masse udviklingserfaring fra radioteatret. Men når deres store satsning er “Manson”, så er det håb brast.

Hvis vores lille sprogområde med nogen form for stolthed skal kunne henvise til vores nationalscene, så må vi hæve udviklingsniveauet af ny dramatik. Én ting er at et mindre teatre ikke har overskuddet og kompentencen til det, men at vores nationalscene ikke har, det er pinligt. Både for de skuespillere, der hver aften skal stå på scenen og forsvare teksten – og for publikum.

Hvis Det Kongelige Teater ikke meget snart viser sig modne til til at løfte opgaven, som jo er en del af bevillings- og lovgrundlaget, bør politikerne fratage dem opgaven og overføre midlerne til et (nyt) teater, der udelukkende varetager udvikling af nyskreven dramatik, som f.eks. Royal Court Theater gør det i London.

A Child is Born

I've been commissioned to write and direct a Christmas play for Grønnegade Teatret, a regional theater here in Denmark. I'll give an account here on the blog of the process. The title will be "A Child is Born", which is the first words of a famous Danish christmas hymn. Let's recap the story of the process so far.

After sending letters to theaters around Denmark, suggesting different ideas for performances. Based on that letter I was invited by the artistic director, Peter Holst, to come up with ideas for two performances. We met and I pitched two ideas verbally. After some time and back and forth on email, they asked for a synopsis on the idea for the christmas performance. In two weeks I developed the vague idea into a full 5-page synopsis and based on that the theater commissioned the play and decided also to hire me as its director.

The initial idea was quite vague. I suggested to make a christmas performance with some edge. I told Peter Holst that I would like to work with the conflict between people who love christmas and those who hate it. In Denmark we have this expression, "hygge", which means something like being cosy. Actually its more than an expression; its a national state of mind. Something every Danish person should strive attain as often as possible. And Christmas-hygge is the ultimate kind of hygge. It is a great feeling, but of course it can also become a great pressure. Often you'll end up with families where - for the sake of 'hygge' - we never confront any issues. Still, this being a christmas performance it still has to be some kind of comedy, so I decided to have two characters, slightly exaggerated, one who loves christmas and hygge intensely, and one who hates it above all else. And to make matters worse or better, dramatically, they are married.

And as I kept thinking about christmas, I realized how much it has become the celebration of and for children. This lead me to an old fascination with the image of 'the adoration of the magi', often painted especially by the renaissance painters. It shows the three wise men bowing down before the newborn Jesus. I wrote more about it in a previous post. The main thing in my process was it made me realize the deeper level of my idea, what I call the mystery. And so I knew there had to be a child. Immediately I knew the child was dead and that this would be the reason for the two main characters' exaggerated attitudes to christmas. The mother trying to forget and move on has thrown herself into celebrating christmas like there's no tomorrow. And for the father everything is an abyss and all attempts to go on living, hollow and hypocritical.

I also felt that the child should somehow be in the play as a character. The ghost of the child, perhaps. Or as an angel? Or it could even come back from the dead. I just knew two things; I wanted the child somewhere on the stage and I wanted some kind of miracle to take place. And then I was ready to work on my synopsis. Ask all the right questions to myself about form, structure and content. A part of the set-up at the theater also demands the inclusion of some local amateur actors. And to solve this I drew upon my experience with devised, interactive, improv-theater to come up with a scenario for the play, where we can use them as guests at the wife's christmas party, along with the rest of the audience. If you are able to read Danish, you can read the resulting synopsis here.

Now I'll embark on preparing to write the play. I'll rework the synopsis with some new/modified ideas, I've had since I wrote it. I'll also take into account, that now I know my the cast - at least the actors for the two main characters, so I can write directly to their strengths and weaknesses. And here on the blog I'll try to document the process. You're welcome to comment, question or discuss.

Xmas mystery: Adoration of the magi

At my recent workshop in Edinburgh, it seemed that the principle of mystery awoke most questions and curiosity. Especially about it's practical application. So here I'll give a small example of my own process.

Boticelli was one among many renaissance painters to render "the adoration of the magi", a scene depicting the three wise men bowing before the newborn Jesus. The image has always struck me as a supreme capture of the mystery of the holy child; the human infant incarnating the god - beginning and eternity in one body. What in particular thrills me about the image is the three wise men acknowledging the child as an entity even they should bow before. This is a mystery. They are the wisest, adult, fully formed men, cultivated and at their peak. Yet they kneel for a newborn child. Why?

Christmas has become a celebration of the child; the presents, the Santa Claus and the decorated tree - joys of the child. These days I'm working on an idea for a Christmas play for next Christmas. Without thinking about the Adoration of the Magi, I had inserted a child, a stillborn child, into the situation. And I kept returning to this child, thinking about how to use it, when suddenly I realized that it was the central theme and mystery of my piece; the holy child. I already had a notion that somehow this child would come back from the dead, and now with my new realization I'm sure of this. What remains is how to plot the route to this miraculous event. This will demand two things from me.

First to delve more into the mystery of the holy child. It's a variation on 'life renewed', but also different. More about the miracle that life can happen at all. That out of a lifeless cosmos, life can spring forth. And about the way a newborn is full of promise, still connected to the great unknown. Where did it come from? Who will it become? And what are the mythical circumstances under which this miracle will happen? 'Life renewed' happens when life is dying. When the times are dark and at their end. Is it the same for 'the holy child'?

Secondly I need to figure out what obstacles and conflicts are blocking the way to the miracle for my two main characters. What tests do they need to undergo? What is their problem, their unbalance and how can they resolve it? If the miracle happens in the darkest hour, I'll need to get them to exactly that point.

I'm also trying to remember great dramas with this mystery at the centre. Maybe "The Seventh Seal" by Bergmann? Or "Small Change" by Truffaut, where the midpoint is an infant's miraculous survival of a fall out of a window from 4th floor - quite contrary to Antichrist's inciting incident, where the infant dies and sends the parents into the woods to experience an altogether different mystery. Perhaps there are not a whole lot of drama based upon the mystery of the miraculous child?

This is where I am with my idea for a Christmas play. I began at a more superficial level, but with an awareness to keep my eyes open for the deeper mystery. The question which put me on the right track was: "why do we celebrate Christmas?".

Please, don't kill your darlings

How many times have you heard the expression "Kill your darlings"?. It has become an almost universally accepted cliché applied to any kind of problematic element of a script. How many stop to examine the wisdom of the expression? Or what it really means?

Oh, Darling? Who are you?

A real darling is an element, which the creator has a somewhat passionate and irrational relationship to. The creator cannot offer a reasonable explanation to why it should be in the script and how it relates to the other elements. There's good reason to single out such elements, as they can disrupt an otherwise well-functioning script. And if the darling is crucial to the premise of a script, it can sour the whole affair. So the advice of killing off darlings could seem quite rational.

It is most certainly more easy, than to examine if there's a deeper rationale behind the darling. Especially for producers and script consultants. But it is more like treating a symptom, than the disease. Or like aborting a passionate love affair, even before it has begun, because its not practical.

Your mystery lover

Obeying to the dramatic principle of mystery, we should instead engage the mysterious darling. It could be the hidden river, the deep well, the source from where the underlying mystery of a great drama springs. Imagine your were Ted Tally in the early stages of adapting the book for "The SIlence of the Lambs". You are having problems incorporating the idea of Clarice Starling's childhood experience with the screaming lambs. It has become a darling for you, but it doesn't really make sense. The script consultant, the producer, everybody tells you it slows down the action, that the flashback to her childhood are clumsy and irrelevant. They tell you the film is about a young female detective trying to save another woman in a man's world, not about lambs and childhood. Under the pressure you are ready to abandon, or kill your darling. But there's just something about this image, a girl, all alone in the world, listening to the screaming of the lambs, wanting to save just one of them, that you are immensely attracted to. Then it strikes you - its about loneliness. Clarice Starling's struggle is not really about being a hero and saving others, but about escaping her own loneliness. It not about being a woman in a man's world - that's only a circumstance, an aspect of her loneliness. Its a heroic, tragic struggle, but one ultimately doomed to fail, as we are always alone. That's the deeper mystery of your drama - so even if she succeeds in saving the woman from the serial killer, she is still alone. Suddenly all the pieces begin to fall into place, you see how loneliness is present in the material; the conversations with Hannibal Lecter, who's also an immensely lonely figure, the single touch between them, the final line from him: "Tell me, Clarice, has the lambs stopped screaming" - and her lack of answer.

It could have been you, so please, stop killing your darlings. Or other people's darlings. Engage the mystery lover.

Spank your darlings

The real wisdom of Kill Your Darlings lies in the cynical treatment of something which can be sentimental or even sacrosanct to the creator. The darling might need a rough hand, before the true love can be revealed. And if it is true love, then it should be able to endure some spanking and rough questions.

When I work as either creator or consultant on dramatic scripts, I'll be the first top defend even the most absurd darlings against the meddling of producers, but also the first to ask the really difficult questions, but questions aimed at revealing the darling's real nature. Questions about how it could relate to other elements, what it reminds us of (principle of unity). Or about what kind of conflict it does or could involves (principle of conflict). How it's tonality sounds, is it comedic, tragic, and how (principle of tonality). Overall seeking an underlying theme, truth or what have we; the mystery. In this process you might very well discover that your darling doesn't really belong in the present script, but at least you will know a bit more about why, and perhaps have a strong idea for new script.

So please, spank your darlings, but don't kill them.