Moron Meter/ Retard Richter

Hey, how about that? A post that doesn't have "shit" in the title. Talk about pigeon-holing myself into the lowest form of colorful language. Am I really so bereft of witty vocabulary that I have to shove "shit" into as many posts as possible. Ooooh, look out! TJ is edgy! He'll swear on an internet journal that nobody reads! Take that "The Man!"

Anyway, why am I adding to my blog today? Because I can't bring myself to write anything that might actually further my career. Meaning, the two ideas I've been fertilizing in my noggin have yet to sprout roots. But it's only recently that I figured out why I'm so desperate for procrastination.

Both ideas are romantic comedies, and both rely on common romcom techniques. Boy lies to Girl to get what he wants (A-story). But then Boy falls in love with Girl (B-story). Unfortunately, his attempts to secure his initial goal (A-story) have him trapped in a lie which, once exposed, will decimate his chances for love (B-story).

So what's the problem? Sounds like a totally standard, humorous romp through an unrealistic courting initiation, right?

But both ideas are setting off my Moron Meter.

One thing I HATE and one thing I swore I'd never do myself, is write a script that's moron dependent. Meaning, the only way for the plot to move forward is for the characters to make the DUMBEST choices ever. And why do these characters need to be morons? Because if they had any milligram (like the reference to the metric system?) of intelligence, the story would be over about 10 pages after the Act I Turning Point.

It's like the old horror setup. If the group stays together, there's no way the lumbering killer toting an axe can kill them all. Stay together and they can either over-power the killer, or find their way back to town unscathed. What do they do? The writer invents some moronic reason for everyone to split up, allowing the killer to pick them off one at a time. Moron Meter.

Think of most action dramas. Oh, your child's been abducted and will be killed unless you plant a bomb under the desk of the congressman you work for. Gee, what will you do? You'd better listen. Don't even think about going to the police. Or the FBI. Or the Secret Service. Or warn the Congressman of the situation. Maybe the character even tries to call the police, but the department is actually run by the bad guys. Hmmm... I guess EVERY department and branch of law enforcement is run by them too. I call BS! The only way for that plot to move forward is for everyone to be utter morons. Moron Meter ticking.

And then there's romantic comedy, my current bug-a-boo. How many romcoms have sustained a premise that could have been resolved with a 5-minute conversation? If the male and female lead would just sit down and talk it out, they'd reach an understanding. Love would sprout, and the audience would walk home with a little extra time on their hands.

Instead, they put off the conversation for as long as possible. Actually, until it's too late. When the moment of truth finally happens, she's mad, but after a witty line that references something that happened earlier, she wraps her arms around him and they kiss. Come on! He's been lying to you for the past 90 minutes! You can't trust him! This is no way to build a relationship! It will fail!

And yet, the audience wipes tears from their eyes.

You'll notice that many of the enduring romcoms have two characters who are totally honest with each other (When Harry met Sally, Annie Hall, Sleepless in Seattle). There are no shenanigans, no ulterior motives, no Moron Meter. Others, like Tootsie, manage to get away with a movie (and romance) based on lies and deceit. And yet, in Tootsie (a great movie, by the way), the romance is lacking. The female love interest ("Julie") is really a place-holder. Not someone whom the audience really attaches to or likes, other than out of a feeling of obligation. Why? Because we don't like people like Julie. She's setting herself up to be a victim. This guy has lied to her for months; she has no idea who he is! And she turns around and forgives him? Weak.

Meanwhile, we love Sally. We love Annie. Those are real characters. They walk off the screen. They aren't morons. And we know they've earned whatever love they might end up with. The point is that in those two movies at least, the romantic leads know and understand their counterparts. They fully comprehend each other's weaknesses and inadequacies, but they accept those flaws (except in Annie Hall where they don't) because of love. It's not a gimmicky romance. It's an honest one.

And that's where I'm at with these scripts. I can't figure out how to make them work without injecting an unhealthy dose of moron into my characters. There's no other way to string these concepts along for 90 pages unless the characters consistently make the stupid choice. And if I follow through on that, I sacrifice the realism and likability of my leads.