[Nick Bandouveris]

Late to the party – catching up from some hectic time-consuming work.

I can’t say that I think this is a “great” character, though I haven’t seen the movie. I wish I’d had the perspective to have first seen this on the page, prior to knowing the casting, because the actors get in the way of analysis, for me. It’s highly “problematic,” though not in the likely assumed sense.

While the character lives up to the two precepts listed at the top of the assignment, I don’t find it original or well done – or even with a “voice,” other than “Oscar Bait.”

Even a pre-slap Will Smith in this role feels anachronistic. The eagerness to please on the part of the character is, for me, pushed way too far by Smith’s own need to do so, evident in so many of his roles. There’s a quote which I believe can be attributed to Lawrence Olivier, about “the actor too much in love with themselves.” The meaning – when the actor pierces the veil between actor and character to the point of reducing suspension of disbelief – it’s a bad thing.

The same goes for Matt Damon, though in this scene he’s less guilty of thespian grandstanding. Perhaps this is the curse of Hollywood – to get a script made, you need familiar/famous actors, who, by their presence, can tip the scales away from storytelling and more towards fandom. No offense to Smith fans, but Sam Jackson would have hit the ball much farther, to put spin on a clumsy metaphor.

If box office can be an indicator, Moviegoers have shown that they go to Will Smith movies to see him punch aliens, not dole out bromides.

I can’t help thinking – what if both characters were instead white? What if both were black? In either cast that would certainly remove the “Magical Negro” stereotype this movie seems to be resuscitating. No matter how many times we (fallaciously) declare we live in a “post racial” world, there’s a heavy weight of history, injustice, prejudice, and inflamed emotions, inherent in the American psyche, “even in these times,” of racial pairing. No matter the best intentions of the writer, there needs to be an honesty and avoidance of cliche, because the subject matter is too loaded to mess with. Were this only not so — but it’s a reality. I’m not saying don’t do it, but when you do, know that the road is dotted with landmines.

The Lethal Weapon and Beverly Hills Cop movies were such an in-your-face exercise in defeating cliche and societal expectation because they downplayed race and color in a contemporary setting, because both the writing and acting defy cliched expectation. Morgan Freeman transcended all racial pitfalls of “magical” by acting such great writing so well. Django Unchained blew the hinges off the doors of expectation. Again, I admit to not knowing the Bagger Vance movie, but the writing sets dangerous traps which I’m betting lead to a “feel good ending” of “both characters learning about life from each other in ways they never expected.” Yawn.

These pitfalls are there for any “magical” character – think of the “mentally challenged” such as Forrest Gump or Chauncey Gardiner. According to any acolyte of Syd Field, these films, Bagger included, do nothing wrong. However, it’s low hanging fruit which I believe could be elevated by better character work which relied upon specifics of the person, rather than symbolic proclamations of Very Wise Avatars. I’m not saying don’t write such movies, but I am saying you need to bring an A+ game to such genres.

While “elegant” in a writerly sense, the entire scene is telegraphed by Bagger with little or no room for surprise, suspense, or actual conflict (we KNOW at the outset that they will become THE team to beat, If They Only Can Work Together). The three swings, each prefaced by a snipped of a life lesson and instant analysis of Damon’s character who has “lost his swing” (get it? GET IT???). And Damon’s Junah, predictably, swings once – bad, twice – bad, third – WOW! I would have been much more intrigued, and less “tipped off,” had there been an indication that Bagger needs, wants, must have that prize money. That the Damon character needs, wants, must have that “swing back.”

How much more fulfilling it is, comparing this training session, to Empire Strikes Back – where Yoda does mostly what Bagger does here, in teaching of the force, and the inherent power within Luke, and then Luke still can’t “perform” his Force miracle because – He Doesn’t Believe In Himself. It’s so powerful to see Yoda then lift the X-wing out of the swamp, and then, showing us that nothing is easy, expels a sigh betraying the feat’s great effort. That scene remains inspiring now, 40+ years later, on both a storytelling level, and as an example of screenwriting that doesn’t bow to expectation, but rather hews to its characters’ journeys.

Or maybe I do Bagger a disservice by comparing this to a training scene. It can also be though of as a Sales Pitch scene. Again, while hitting all the expected “notes” as Bagger tries to sell the vital service he will provide to Junah, I have to think of Mamet’s brilliant Glengarry, Glen Ross. There, we see Ricky Roma barraging life philosophy to the other guy at the bar. What becomes evident, as it spools out, however, is that the entire scene is a Sales Pitch. Both Bagger and GlenGarry scenes play out to the same conclusion, but it’s obvious which one benefits from writing that defies cliche.

I did have very high hopes at the beginning of the scene. Bagger telling Damon he walked straight ahead because the ball had no chance of hitting him was just straight up funny, and instantly tells us this is a wry character – so it is not only a great joke but a vital piece of the character puzzle. I wish there had been more of that, and the wisdom were leaned upon less heavily.

For me, the character work (though much improvised by the actors) by both Bill Murray and Chevy Chase in Caddyshack defeated any chance of cliche by being original, funny, irreverent, and unexpected. Think of Murray’s “international golfer” speech, or Chase’s high out of his mind revelry practicing on the green scenes.

Yes, I realize it may seem I’m comparing slapstick college comedy with Coming Of Age Importance, but I’m not. What I’m really comparing is the breath of life the great writer brings by giving us an original take on any character, thus doing their part to defeat the most hackneyed format.

So I have gratitude to y’all for asking us to think about this scene. It’s forced me to analyze my own writing – to see where dreaded cliches may linger rather than the actual LIFE of a character. I’m experimenting today with not only introducing racial complexities to a scene, but then seeing what happens by flipping them to see where I’m making wide assumptions rather than laser-focused individual character traits. This is already useful in making me look for places where I’m telling and not showing, and fix the holes.

I’m not a big believer in playing to the cheap seats – but as the Caddyshack example above demonstrates, an original character, even in a cliche situation, will likely be talked about it for years, while a scene such as the Bagger one might only survive as a useful example for a screenwriting class.

[Nick Bandouveris]

What future is Sarah Connor living into?

Thanks for having us watch this scene, because it’s importance has escaped me in the past. I’m also loving this idea of “living into a future,” because it really helps focus my attention on character and script!! This concept alone has made this course already “pay for itself” in my mind. So thank you again…

What’s fascinating about this scene is that Sarah Connor is ALREADY in her future – she just doesn’t know it yet. As she talks, we see she begins to trust Kyle and take in his tales of what’s to come. Her reaction is no longer “you’re crazy,” instead it’s “At least now I know what to name him,” and then “I don’t want this!!” She’s already accepted Kyle’s words as truth, and, as any good Reluctant Hero, the only thing preventing her from taking on her destiny is – herself. So, her ability to trust, and then take action based upon that trust, shows she has everything she needs to fulfill the “prophesy.”

Sarah asks, “Do I look like the mother of the future?,” then equates her lack of seeming skills (“I can’t even balance a checkbook”) with what will be needed when all hell breaks loose and comfortable, rule-filled society as we know it nearly crumbles. Here she asks what turns out to be a rhetorical question – the ability to balance a checkbook will have little use after The Fall, but her resourcefulness, empathy and confident skills will make her a natural leader, and the perfect mother to raise the “savior.”

James Cameron must really love Sarah more than any other character, because she’s strong from the beginning. Behind all the “ditzy” stuff early in the movie is a real powerhouse. More importantly, her sense of EMPATHY is almost off the charts. In this scene she’s almost maternal to Kyle as she finds that he’s bleeding and then snaps into action to (expertly, it turns out) dress his wound. This maternal instinct also shows that she’s prepared for her future as mother to the New Savior of humanity. (Thematic Biblical echoes here of “immaculate conception,” cleverly put into a science fiction piece – a fantastic time conundrum because if Kyle dies in the past, did he ever exist in the future?)

Interesting to me, Sarah finds her male contemporaries uninteresting. It’s a “real man” who has to come from the future to meet her very specific, though still unknown to her, needs. Such smart writing.

What future is Kyle Reese living into?

Fascinating again. Kyle’s future is in the past, and he’s unaware of why John sent him, his own father, into the past, for what will literally be the situation of his own conception. It makes one wonder what the unseen character of John Connor must have felt, sending his father to his own doom… Powerful repercussions even offscreen, yes? And of course, Kyle not realizing his “mission” to seed the savior, but, and here’s another canny thing Cameron does as the writer – he makes this sci fi thriller a LOVE STORY! (so sentimental, and so worthwhile – because without the trust and empathy between Sarah and Kyle – kind of literal star-crossed lovers – we’d be stuck with John sending his own father back in time to rape his mother, no?) So Kyle, unaware of his true “mission,” or of when how and why he dies, is allowed to be past as prologue, and to fall in love with this woman he’s clearly idolized as the legend growing up.

If any of us have ever met someone we idolized, only to witness their flaws and the wonderful things that make them human, then we take that fork in the road – we either are disappointed, or we embrace them even more, faults and all. So Kyle, here, is living his future as the Ultimate Sarah Connor Fanboy – at last sent on a mission he can never return from, with both a sense of duty (to honor John’s wish), and more than just a little eager to meet his hero. This is so damn cool!

What is Sarah’s transformation that is implied by this scene?

I already mentioned it above – empathy, trust, reluctance and then acceptance.

I want to conclude with this – when it came out, Terminator made a lot of money, but it was in no way a blockbuster. It also had a comparatively small budget to other sci fi of the time. This screenplay is a brilliant lesson in the importance of having a killer script, with bulletproof and bombastic ideas and concepts. Because I guarantee, had Cameron not come up with such a strong idea, Terminator would have been a one-off, and no one would be studying it today.

[Nick Bandouveris]

I agree

[Nick Bandouveris]

What makes this character great from a writing perspective? The screenwriter is faking us out. The expectation of a fish out of water story is defeated when it’s revealed that Will is the Big Fish after all. He’s also LOYAL, giving his friend the chance to troll the bar to impress women, and only steps in when the unwritten Bro Code is betrayed by the smarmy grad student. Perhaps best, Will is THOUGHTFUL. He sits back and takes it all in, “reading the room” and pounces at the right moment. Finally, by citing the specific page in the textbook, the audience learns that one of Will’s many secret weapons to this character is his photographic memory.

I love that Will takes no great pleasure in dressing down the grad student, but he does seem to find honor in restoring the balance in the room (well, there is some Joy in Will as he embarrasses the grad student) and in restoring the Bro Code. So he’s not a show-off, but he is willing to bring a measured response when the situation calls for it.

Finally, as opposed to the grad student, who speaks loudly while trying to show off, Will is uninterested in impressing everyone in the room. He steps in and quietly asks if the student would like to “step outside.” This is the final flex, and the “Win” of the scene, as the grad student, who finally realizes he’s outmatched – at every level – steps down.

Will is like a superhero to his friends – as if Superman chose to show all of his powers as Clark Kent.

• This reply was modified 1 year, 12 months ago by  Nick Bandouveris.

[Nick Bandouveris]

I’m Nick Bandouveris, I’ve been writing since high school, first the mandatory expository essays, and then – short stories, plays, screenplays, and more than my share of bad, self-indulgent poetry. I’m a producer of commercials, short films, music videos, branded entertainment, and documentaries. I have a vivid imagination that usually needs a kickstart, whether an image or a sentence, and also find much inspiration in ironic interpretations of what happens with work and friends. While I’ve “written” many scripts, I’ve finished few. Easily distracted in the past, my accumulation of experiences has brought me to the point where I feel I have things that need saying, and will be completing both old and new ideas. What spurs me in any writing project is to have at least one scene within that I’ve never read or seen anywhere else before.

This course on character particularly appeals to me because, though I already know the vital importance of establishing “living” and unique characters, these lessons can give me the push I feel I need to guide me in making them unique.

Probably the only member of this class to have “died,” I was the unlucky reporter for the Daily Bugle who was murdered by the mysterious Bastion in the X-Men comic book in the 1990s. The writer of that comic was my best friend at the time, and I was surprised to pick up the issue and witness my death. I immediately confronted him, intimating that in being shot in the head and dumped in the Thames, I wasn’t actually dead, but rather Bastion’s laser had unleashed a dormant mutant power. “Nope,” he said, “You’re dead….”

That year my wife and I went to his Halloween party, me as the corpse of myself as drawn in the comic book, and my wife as my widow.

[Nick Bandouveris]

All very good points. I’ll add to this that Junah’s instant offer to Bagger, even though he’s a stranger who mysteriously walks out of some “Field of Dreams” cornfield scenario, is a lovely character trait/beat which shows he doesn’t consider color a personal issue, even in Jim Crow south.

My only quibble here is that, not only does the character of Bagger magically know his future, and that of Junah, the screenplay so heavily feeds it to us that it telegraphs the coming plot to the viewer – thus deflating conflict, drama, suspense, instead putting us on a well-trod road.

Contrast this to the Robert Redford movie “The Natural.” The movie played out as expected, a devil on one shoulder, an angel on the other, temptation the main character eschews and comes out the winner, smashing the lights with the Best Home Run Ever. While this sells popcorn, there’s little or no expectation to be defeated. Bernard Malamud’s novel, by contrast, goes much darker and though not a happy “Hollywood Ending” the studio and Redford insisted on to get it filmed, Redford’s character takes the money and throws the game. No one saw that coming.

I’m not saying write “negative” screenplays. But I do urge us to not shine our brights onto the well worn road. It’s the potholes that make this type of journey fun and worthwhile.

• This reply was modified 1 year, 11 months ago by  Nick Bandouveris.

[Nick Bandouveris]

There’s a vast chasm between a tease and telegraphing the obvious. Way too heavy handed for me, even though I readily agree that all the “right” notes of how to construct a screenplay are met here.

• This reply was modified 1 year, 11 months ago by  Nick Bandouveris.

[Nick Bandouveris]

I agree with you 100%, and yet also assert that it does it in the most cliched, hamfisted way.

[Nick Bandouveris]

You’re missing my point. The “bro code” assumes a dude won’t get blocked when making an advance. Chuckie has no reason, because of his ego and swagger, to believe some other dude would block him while on the prowl. It isn’t until the grad student steps in to embarrass him that the code, from Chuckie’s point of view, is broken.

[Nick Bandouveris]

Of course not for Will. I was referring to Chuckie, who has no reason to believe his swagger will be challenged and he’ll be embarrassed. Chuckie exists on a more basic level. That’s what I meant.

[Nick Bandouveris]

I hear that. Todd Phillips went on record saying that’s why he went to such dark material as “Joker” – funny is too much a moving target these days, and it wasn’t worth it for him to offend, intentionally or not. Looking back at Hangover, some of the best jokes wouldn’t see light of day now out of fear of impropriety.

[Nick Bandouveris]

Rules are meant to be broken, when broken well. Action movies often are linked by bursts of exposition, as if to tie potentially meaningless scenes together. In the case of Terminator, however, we’re, what, 20 minutes in? – and we have almost no idea what’s going on. When it came out, Terminator was a time travel movie like no other – and it seems Cameron recognized that a little hand holding was in order – and the moment where Kyle tries to show Sarah he’s the good guy is the opportune moment. At this point the audience is as grateful as Sarah for a little explanation, like that bar you can hold onto as the rollercoaster begins its downhill plunge.

[Nick Bandouveris]

Never apologize for being funny. However, if your humor comes from jokes, then there may be ways to deepen your work, and make yourself happier. Think of it this way – some people we know are just funny – are they put here to “provide laughs?” Likely it’s more complex.

Look at your favorite comedy movies and TV series, and see where the humor comes from. The ones that have legs over the years likely find all of the comedy emerging from character. Perhaps nothing has hurt true comedy more than the term “situation comedy.” Because in the best ones, the characters create the situations, rather than the writers imposing them onto characters. Looking forward to the funny you bring!

[Nick Bandouveris]

Carol Bloodworth? Best writer’s name I’ve heard this week!

[Nick Bandouveris]

In a scene like this, if only Skylar, and not the whole audience, falls in love with Will, the scene fails. It’s his “Save the cat” superhero moment. He’s charming, but also insistent, and won’t take guff from anyone who embarrasses his friends.

[Nick Bandouveris]

Yes! The dialogue in this movie is razor sharp and all necessary. So many movies coming out now, especially indies, are wall to wall talk, but they’re mostly perfunctory conversations. If I hear one more “Are you OK?” after a stressful or fight scene….

An aside here to all – screenwriting isn’t just writing dialogue. It would be good to look also to some masters, like Kubrick or Hitchcock, whose definition of “Pure Cinema” tended towards, “only tell with words if it can’t be shown visually, and even then, with as few words as possible.”

Good Will Hunting is in a class of its own (pun intended), because its dialogue Reveals more than it Tells.

[Nick Bandouveris]

Your point about Chucky is really good. But remember, at the end Chucky returns such favors Will has surely done him for years by continuing to insist that Will leave town and make more of himself. That’s why Chucky’s smile at the end has such resonance.

[Nick Bandouveris]

The scene also gives us razor insight into Skylar – her asking the grad student to knock it off, her lack of being impressed with him, show that she’s not an intellectual (or pseudo-) snob. She even seems to enjoy Chuckie’s “game.”

[Nick Bandouveris]

Yes, but you can’t blame Chuckie for being who he is. He never expects the “bro code” of trolling for girls to be betrayed by his own kind – in this case another guy, the grad student.

[Nick Bandouveris]

I don’t see it as dialogue heavy. For me every word belongs.