Hilarity In Shoes

Oh bloggy, it's been a while. But here I am, back to reflect upon the making of our second year films as they happen. Now I hope that it won't seem narcissistic, but I will pretty much be exclusively focussing on Sole Mates. There are two reasons for this; 1 - as I'm directing, this is the production I'll be most heavily involved in, and 2 - I'll be off to the States so shortly after it wraps that I won't actually be very involved in either Breathing Room or Broken Bubbles.

I think first I should talk about the story. I've only recently cemented what the story is about in my head, and I think that writing it out will help me. In fact, I think that regular blog-posts will give me the time I need to gather my thoughts and turn them into ideas that I can easily communicate to everyone.

What is Sole Mates? At it's heart, I think it's the story of a girl who isn't a part of her generation, content with her life in a world of grey, suddenly trying new things. In her world, all that's colourful is placed out of sight. It's not forbidden, it's just not wanted. Having lived in that world, Lucy has never been daring - never taken risks. There's so much she's never done. So much she's never tried...

One day she finds a pair of high heels in the colourful backroom of the charity shop in which she works. They're expensive, richly coloured and exciting. Something within Lucy pulls her towards these shoes. A new curiosity. And when she tries them on, it triggers feelings of excitement that Lucy has never experienced. Lucy is then pulled into a world of trying new things - secretly taking risks wearing the heels, dressing up to match them, befriending some girls, going into the city. But suddenly, somehow, she loses what made her Lucy.

She blames the heels - they caused this whole mess! - and she throws them away. But she comes to realise that what happened wasn't because of the heels, and she admits that she can be herself and wear the heels, even if they're different.

Now, whilst this is what I believe the story is about, I'm still not convinced that the latest draft properly explores this. As such, I will work on another draft - which I hope, pending approval, will be the draft that gets locked.

In my next post I think I will talk about the characters, as I think this will prove useful as we move towards casting.

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Discovering 'Nemo'

Take a scene of your choice and deconstruct it with relation to sound, cinematography, editing, or art direction.

The pre-titles scene of Pixar’s Finding Nemo (2003) gives context to the rest of the story, and I find it to be an emotionally stimulating piece of filmmaking. To look at this objectively, I intend to deconstruct the editing of this scene by analysing decisions made by the filmmakers and, using well-regarded editing theories, discussing their effect. There are four primary areas of interest with regards to this scene; motivations behind the editing, the pacing of the scene, breaks in continuity, and the repetition of imagery. I will look at these areas in detail and explore their purpose. However, as this is an animated film, and particularly because Pixar are renowned for their unique workflow, it is important to first establish just how Finding Nemo was edited.

As the film went through an impressive storyboarding and full pre-visualisation process, the editor, David Ian Salter, was not solely responsible for all editing decisions. The editing process used (further explained in Appendix 1) meant that the editor worked together with storyboard artists and animators to create the edit, and this was perfected over time as parts of the film were reworked to produce the best possible cut of the film.

In his book In the Blink of an Eye, Oscar-winning editor Walter Murch explains that each and every cut should be motivated by a number of factors. Murch provides a list with each factor weighted in terms of importance;

Emotion (51%), Story (23%), Rhythm (10%), Eye-trace (7%), 2D Plane of Screen (5%), 3D Space of Action (4%)

In Finding Nemo, this first scene is about seeing Marlin happy with all he has, before seeing him lose everything apart from his unborn son. In-keeping with Murch’s ideas, the editing of this scene very clearly follows Marlin’s journey, and is heavily reflective of his emotional state – with which the audience is to empathise, according to director Andrew Stanton, in order to set-up Marlin as an overprotective character with whom the audience can still relate. Murch’s other criteria are also met by almost all of the cuts in the scene (though I will go on to discuss the exceptions later). Of particular interest is the use of rhythm in the scene, which features a dramatic pacing arc.


The editing of the scene is visually represented in the diagram above, and I have highlighted the main pace-changes using colours. Initially, the rate of cutting is quite slow (the blue area). This creates a relaxing and gentle introduction to the characters and world of the film, and reflects the mood of the protagonist, Marlin. As we build familiarity with the characters, we move to a faster pace of cutting (the green area). This, again, is representative of the emotions of the characters. However, it serves this purpose in two ways. The first part of this section is playful, but it suddenly turns into a sequence of tension. Whilst the pace here does not change, editing decisions such as shot-choice play a big part in creating this tension. The sequence changes from busy close-ups to motionless wideshots, as shown here:


The tension erupts into a ferocious attack (the red area), which is cut incredibly fast, before returning to a sedate pace – but now one of loss, not optimism. This change in mood is achieved using visual repetition, but first I will return to an earlier point, regarding the attack sequence.

As I discussed, not every cut in the scene keeps to Murch’s hierarchy of editing. On a live-action film, Murch says that the lesser rules should be sacrificed for the more important ones if necessary – but on an animated film such as Finding Nemo, the editor would have to meticulously and purposefully break continuity, and this is exactly what happens during the attack sequence. Here, when viewed at the proper frame-rate, the editing appears to be seamless. However, when you play it back slowly and look at the positions of the characters, there are clear errors in continuity, geography, and even the observance of 180° rule (or the “2D plane of screen” as Murch calls it). For instance, the following 12 frames are sequential in the scene – with the separation representing the cut.


Marlin is hit twice here, breaking the basic principle of continuity editing. To explain this, we return to Murch’s top priority in editing: emotion. Marlin is very disorientated and confused here, and in order to subliminally replicate this in the audience there has been a purposeful breaking of the very rules that are to prevent confusion and disorientation.

Sergei Eisenstein, one of the forefathers of editing, had theories which primarily related to the creation of ideas through editing. Whilst Eisenstien’s theories were originated with regards to montage editing, there are several instances in this scene where new ideas are generated. For instance, there is very clear visual repetition in the scene. Three particular camera angles that are used throughout the optimistic opening of the scene are repeated towards the end, as shown here.


The filmmakers are using what Eisenstein referred to as “intellectual” editing, in which shots can elicit an intellectual meaning to the audience. In this instance this is not created by use of montage, but by returning to a previously seen image. By having the audience associate strong positive emotions with the image the first time it is presented to them, this heightens the feeling of loss when we return to the images in the new context. Just as the collision of two images creates an idea, returning to a previous image in a different context creates an idea through juxtaposition. This elaborate effect has similarities to the Kuleshov experiment – regarded as one of the most important ideas in the history of film editing – which proved that an audience will find meaning in a shot based on its context within the scene.

In conclusion, in what some dismiss as just a film for kids, I have found the use of some very elaborate and sophisticated editing techniques. I truly respect this quality in Pixar, and I think that this is the sort of dedication that truly helps to create inspiring films. This scene is a perfect example of Murch’s editing principles in play, and also proves that it is okay to break rules if you do so with a purpose. In deconstructing this scene, I am able to better understand how my initial emotional response was triggered by the filmmakers, and I can now acknowledge the practical applications of theories from the very genesis of editing as an art form, such as those of Kuleshov and Eisenstein.



Word count: 1,094

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Appendix 1: Pixar's Editing Workflow

As the story-team develop ideas, they storyboard them to see if they work. At this early stage, the artists are not only deciding on the story, but they also decide what they cut to and when. The film goes through this process many times, until the team are satisfied with the story. As scenes get finalised, they move into the animation process. The editor is given a low-quality and very basic render, and they then edit the scene in accordance with the storyboards, finessing the edits. This then feeds back into the animation and original story development until everyone is satisfied.


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Bibliography

DVD

Finding Nemo 2 Disc Collector's Edition (2003)
- Original Feature Film
- Extended Commentary
- 'Making of…' Featurette

WALL-E 2 Disc Special Edition (2008)
- 'The Pixar Story' Feature-length Documentary


Books

'To Infinity and Beyond!: The Story of Pixar Animation Studios'
by Karen Paik

'Grammar of the Edit'
by Roy Thompson

'In the Blink of an Eye'
by Walter Murch

'The Film Sense'
by Sergei Eisenstein

'Film Form'
by Sergei Eisenstein


Websites

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finding_nemo

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0266543/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soviet_montage_theory

http://introtoediting.com/

http://www.pixarplanet.com/


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Macro-Reviews

Dear Blog, sorry I broke my promise to post more. Here's a massive set of mini-reviews to make up for it, starting with the academic screenings.

Rome, Open City - In my head I thought Rome, Open City was very similar to The Battle for Algiers. So much so that I'm having trouble differentiating between them now. However, I do remember that I saw something very unique in the film, and whilst I wasn't entirely captivated by the story or the filmmaking, I could see that there was just something "new" about it. Of course I can now say with confidence that I was seeing the genesis of Italian Neo-Realism. You could feel that what was being presented was more honest and real than the rose-tinted world seen in many films that had come before, and it was certainly a very important turning-point in film history.

The 400 Blows - I really liked The 400 Blows. Again there was clearly something different about it. Visually, the most notable difference was seeing handheld footage, something which made me truly believe I was watching a modern film graded to look old. This, along with some strong acting from the young Jean-Pierre Léaud, and several iconic images and themes, really clearly define this film as an important part of the French New Wave.

Saturday Night and Sunday Morning - Parts of this film were quite enjoyable, and other parts of it were very soap-like. I suppose this is appropriate, given that it is part of the rise of "kitchen-sink dramas," but I do think the story's inclusion of extra-marital affairs would have been rather shocking for the time and revolutionary in its own way.

This is England - You could definitely see the similarities to The 400 Blows, and the visual references were a nice touch. The young Thomas Turgoose was very impressive in the lead role, and - as much as I have hated every character he has ever played - I think Stephen Graham was very appropriate for his role. This film also has a particular resonance at the moment, with all this BNP nonsense going on. Hopefully, though, there's far less support for nationalism now than was depicted in this film. I would also like to point out that I found several similarities between This is England and Billy Elliot - both using youth culture to reflect on Thatcherism (possibly because the filmmakers were in their youth during this time, which is in-keeping with the generational theory).

The Lives of Others - I thoroughly enjoyed this, and I will admit this film had the additional challenge of involving me because it was subtitled. The main reason this is a hurdle for me is because films are all about escapism, involvement and suspending-disbelief. In theatre there are primarily two main approaches; the more Brechtian style, where you are reminded that you are in a theatre, watching an performance, and the more believable and real performances, such as Stanislavski's approach. In film, only the latter is ever seen (with perhaps the exception of Dogville), and if a film has subtitles I find it a constant reminder that I am watching a film. However, The Lives of Others was so engaging that it managed to make me forget, which is pretty powerful. I only pray that a Hollywood remake is not in the works. The film is an important reflection of German history, told by Germans. Let's not go all Kevin Spacey on it.

And now some brief reviews on my recent cinema escapades.

Avatar - I was worried that there was a whiff of "boy-who-cried-wolf" when it came to Avatar's advertising, and that the film they were billing intensely as the best movie of all time would be a major and disastrous flop. And whilst I would never call it the best film of all time, I did really enjoy Avatar. Very few films allow me to immerse myself entirely in their world, but Avatar is one of them. Pure escapism.

Where the Wild Things Are - It was wrong. A good film with a nice story, nice cinematography, and brilliant monster-puppety-things, but it was wrong. It was not a film for children, and it was not a film for adults. Frankly, I don't know who it was for. Possibly people who liked the books, but are now all growed-up. I thought it was going to be like the Neverending Story; made like a proper fantasy, enjoyable for children, but also terrifying. Nope. Again: it was not for children.

Me & Orson Welles - The trouble with this film is that the only potential audience it has are the sort of people who will get incredibly irritated that the title is grammatically incorrect. The only other audience it has are tweens who love Zac Efron, of whom there were a few in my screen (they got very bored, I hasten to add). I liked the story, and I loved Christian McKay's portrayal of Orson Welles, and I think Zac Efron and Claire Danes were very believable. I'm sure that all three have great potential careers ahead of them.

Sherlock Holmes - I thought they were gonna pull a Pirates-of-the-Caribbean with Sherlock Holmes, and I wasn't far off with that expectation. It was very much trying to be the same sort of period action/adventure, and it was rather enjoyable. London seemed rather CG in parts, which was a little disappointing, and I didn't like that the audience were allowed no clues to work out the plot for themselves. It's always fun trying to do that.

The Princess and the Frog - An enjoyable and well-balanced film. They have the classic style of animation, story and music, with a good blend of humour and a more diverse collection of characters. I particularly liked the inclusion of a couple of cutaway gags (as modern audiences have grown to understand from Malcolm in the Middle through to 30 Rock), and I think this could be a classic Disney film to the children of today.


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My Doctor

This is another post that I had started over the holidays. Expect a more topical post shortly...

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I don't think it would be right of me to allow the Tenth Doctor's regeneration to go past without acknowledgement. After all, Doctor Who is one of the main reasons I am so interested in this industry, and had it not come back in 2005 I'd probably be studying physics at some boring University. Warning - This post obviously contains some spoilers about Doctor Who. Don't read it if you're behind at all. I'm look at you, Forest.

I much remember the day that Doctor Who returned to our screens. I was watching the BBC Breakfast News whilst waiting in an airport, ready to fly off to Florida. They were talking about a new series of Doctor Who that was to launch in the UK that evening. They played a clip which didn't really impress me, and then we boarded the plane. 4247 miles away from home, I was probably gorging at an All-You-Can-Eat buffet when the new opening credits were broadcast for the first time. Two weeks later, I returned to find a few friends really enjoying the series, so I gave it a shot. I think I joined the show at episode four: Aliens of London. Now, even the most dedicated fans will admit that this two-parter is regarded as the weakest of the first series, and yet I still fell in love with the characters and the drama. The story of the episode, the monsters, the action - they didn't really matter! I loved the Doctor, I loved Rose, and I loved the show's ability to be anything it wanted to be.

The first time I realised I loved the show was five episodes later - Father's Day. It was such an engaging episode, with some really emotional scenes, and to me it was so much better than anything else on TV or in the cinema.

From that point on my love of the show has been growing exponentially. By Series 2, Saturdays were spent waiting for Doctor Who to come on, with friends joining me to watch. However, another holiday then got in my way at the end of the second series, and I missed the two-part finale. Having recorded it, I arrived back in the country and immediately set about watching it. Missing the publicity for it made it even better, as I had no idea what to expect. It was all new and surprising and exciting! And Rose left, and I was sad. And then Donna appeared in the Tardis, and I was happy! I had no idea who the character was, but I loved Catherine Tate, and I was just excited to see her in the show!

By Series 3 I was a serious addict. I irritated many friends and classmates by tapping out a certain drum-beat, which was particularly comical as this was during exam-time. I remember someone asking me if I had realised I was doing it during an exam, very quietly on the desk. I have no recollection of this, but it's fair enough to assume I was indeed tap-tap-tap-taping whilst solving some equation.

At my Series 4 launch party (yes, that's right) we had Doctor Who themed paper plates, cups, and a table-cloth. Everyone there remembers me literally screaming during a certain scene towards the end. And when I say screaming, I absolutely mean it. I had realised the importance of something before they had. And then, the woman turned around, and it was indeed - ROOOOOOSSSEEEEE!!!!!!!

Ahem.

But this moment was the moment I declared myself going spoiler-free. The excitement I felt in that moment, having no prior warning, was so unique that I dare not look at any set-reports or fan-forums any more. I still read Doctor Who Magazine, but they're great at keeping things a secret.

So, of course I was going to be all crazy-headed for David Tennant and Russell T Davies's final episodes, particularly going in spoiler-free. And personally, I loved them, and probably would have loved them no matter what. Whilst I am far from being objective, I will admit that the story of the final two-parter was a little underwhelming - but every scene between David Tennant and Bernard Cribbins forgives this, and the Tenth Doctor's final moments were perfect.

I think this is the first time I have tried to fully articulate my love for the show, even though most people are aware of it, but I still don't feel I've quite covered it - and I don't think I'll ever be quite able to explain why I love it so much. In honesty, I don't even know. But with a new series starting soon, it's only fair to warn you that I will be insanely excited and possibly a little manic. I don't fear the coming changes. I'm ready to embrace them, love them, and let my obsession grow!

Geronimo!


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Thoughts on Genre

Dear Blog, sorry I've neglected you recently. Various factors have prevented me from finding the time to finish a post. However, I have a selection of half-finished blogs that I will finish over the coming weeks. Hopefully this will make up for the weeks I missed last term. I started the following blog post on the 17th of November, but I only just finished it. I promise to take care of you from now on, and to remember that a blog is for life, not just for Christmas. Yours, Gavin

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Genre is the French word for category or type. It's also the Mayan word for the end of the world*. So this post is about the two, as I delve deeply into a rather shallow pool of destruction, presented in the shape of Roland Emmerich's new film, 2012.

We've had classes on genre in many different modules, and they each bring something new to the table. Andy's recent class on genre gave a very good overview of the "Repertoire of Elements" we expect; Characters, Narrative, Iconography, Style, Setting. It was fun after this class to think about writing in genres that I haven't previously. However, we recently had a class with Richard, in which we also spoke about genre extensively. We looked at the structures of different genres, and audience expectations. After this class I was a little more cynical. The audience expectations (which are made as soon as they know the genre) have to be met, or you risk angering or upsetting the audience - and that wouldn't make Mr Hollywood very happy. It's a little upsetting to think that creativity and originality come second, and your storytelling really can become "painting-by-numbers".

Some genres are more generic than others. Fantasy, sci-fi and social dramas are all quite free to do as they please, in my opinion - but action, romcoms, and horrors are bound by tight rules. Romcoms are particularly bad, and you'll be pleased to know that I'm incidentally working on a romcom for Richard. Arguably it's a romcom with a twist, and that twist thankfully allows me to escape the apparent tight restrictions of the genre, and perhaps give the audience something they don't quite expect. Plus, I can poke fun at the genre a little.

Another generic genre (or "genreic" for short) is the disaster film. I saw 2012 the day after Richard's genre class, and so genre structure was still floating around in my head. I already knew that 2012 was going to be similar to Emmerich's previous disaster film The Day After Tomorrow, but I didn't quite realise just how similar they would be. Allow me, if you will, to present the formula for a Roland Emmerich "the world's going to end, but not before I make them a happy-family again" film.

A black British scientist is in India doing some research about a geological anomaly. The scientist (or someone who works with him) tries to convince the US Government that their findings point to disaster on a global scale. The US Government have a good "lol" at the silly idea that the world could be ending. Only when the President gets involved do they accept the idea to be serious. Meanwhile, the main character is having family problems, which are just as important - if not more important - than preventing the imminent extinction of the human race. Finally the supposed end of the world comes, yet our protagonists somehow all manage to survive. This generally involves lots of near misses with massive tidal waves, fire falling from the sky, and absolute-zero temperatures... Oh - and the death of the President! There's then at least an hour's worth of boring stuff, since they've spent the entire effects-budget on the destructiony bit. During this part of the film, the main character has to travel a great distance by impossibly silly means, and then learns a great lesson, which somehow enables him to bring his family back together (even if that means having to let his ex-wife's new boyfriend perish). It ends showing that, despite all of the destruction, there is some hope for humanity. Frankly, this sort of storytelling makes me believe the opposite.

Ignoring the similarities, I did kind of enjoy 2012. I was in one of those "brainless movie" moods. Though I hope it's the last of it's kind. If I want to see this sort of story again, I'll just rewatch The Day After Tomorrow. At least the family-reunion in that wasn't appallingly sickening and completely unrelated to the events of the story.

Also, as a sidenote - it's actually a myth that the Mayans predict the end of the world on the 21st December 2012. Their calendar cycle ends on this date, but they in fact celebrate this, and start the cycle again. For a crazy amount of information on this whole thing, check out this link. It's a pretty useful read, particularly because I'm sure that we'll have to battle against stupidity and pseudoscience for the whole of 2012.


*Not really.

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There ya go, Bloggy. Much better!

Mini-Reviews

I've not been able to watch many films recently, but I've certainly been active in my TV watching. I will soon do a set of TV reviews, speaking about shows I like, and possibly looking at new shows in the US. But, for now, here are the films I've seen in the past while.

The Searchers - I'm still not a massive fan of Westerns (sorry, Andy!), but this was a pretty good film nonetheless. It was a little slow-moving for my liking, but the pace at least suited the film. Having been shown the first few minutes in a previous class, I was more than a little surprised to see the family killed off at the start. However, it is interesting that there is a whole family history that one can read from the scene that is not of massive importance to the rest of the story. Normally such a perfectly executed scene of subtle exposition would only be present when a necessity to the story. Whilst it wasn't, it gave the film's world a sense of history, and it gave us some indication to Ethan's past. One minor let-down was the strange conclusion when Ethan finds Debbie and has a sudden and unprompted change of heart about her.

Saw - Paul decided that he should introduce me to Saw, and so we sat and watched it the night before reshoots on The Golden Rule. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually a very watchable and enjoyable thriller; not a horror like I had presumed - and I don't think I can be blamed for that presumption! The psychological tomfoolery (if the term is not too tame) is really interesting, and the dilemmas and tricks were well-played. A part of me thinks that coincidence plays a big part, because if anything had played out differently in that room then perhaps the game would have been rather less interesting. But, to be honest, that was an afterthought, and it didn't intrude on my enjoyment of the film. So I now join Paul in recommending that you see Saw. And then try the slide. It's delightful.

Zombieland - My favourite zombie films are Shaun of the Dead and Dead Set (okay, not really a film). Both mock the zombie-genre, and both are very funny, but they do it in very different ways. In Zombieland, we find yet another unique zombie-comedy: a zom-com, I believe. Much less of the comedy comes from the zombies or the genre itself. A lot of the humour comes from the characters and the dialogue. I would lie if I said it was witty, but it was certainly funny and enjoyable. The characters were pretty expanded, which is always a plus, and I found that Jesse Eisenberg had one of the few characterisations of the awkward-teenager that I actually liked. Additionally, I really liked the road-trip structure of the film, and the device of the rules coming up on screen - which I don't think I would have normally liked.

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus - As I had expected, this was a curiously fun and strange film. Heath Ledger's performance was good, but it certainly wasn't the strongest part of the film. I was far more interested in the story, and I really wish we had found out more about the fantasy world. I'd like to highlight that I was quite impressed by the young'uns in the film. Both Lily Cole and Andrew Garfield really captivated me, and I found similarities in the latter's character to Tristan in Stardust (which is only a good thing). I really like this young, noble and British archetypal character that is developing in new fantasy films.

The Battle of Algiers - Whilst I did find myself getting into and enjoying The Battle of Algiers, I now find that I've forgotten almost everything about it. I'm quite surprised by this, and a little bemused too, particularly because it makes reflection on the film rather difficult. I can't quite explain or justify my lack of memory, though it could have been an overwhelming sense of excitement about an impending episode of Doctor Who which just made it all fall right out of my head, or possibly a lack of connection to the film itself. Either way, I enjoyed the film whilst it was on. I didn't quite buy into it being like a documentary (and Andy isn't the only source that I've heard the comparison from, either) but it did feel very realistic in its depiction of the circumstances and events of the time.

2012 - Fun Day-After-Tomorrow-like destruction, and in more ways than one. So much so that I'm actually saving my thoughts on the film for a post about the similarities between the two, and the defined structure used in all films of the disaster genre. I know; you just can't wait!

Visuals vs Dialogue

Still shiny? Good. Now, where was I? Ah yes, I was about to post about 12 Angry Men when I... well, didn't. Yes, extraciricular work has yet again prevented me from blogging like it's 2004. But fear not - I will make up for it with numerous extra posts. Like this one.

So, first on my agenda, I think I had better discuss my response to 12 Angry Men, which was a pretty unusual film. It was certainly well-directed, and the performances were far more intricate than those in most films of that time, but it did suffer from a looming sense that it was based on a stage-play. Nothing wrong with that, plays are good. But this brings up an interesting argument which I've been having with myself for a while. And, as most of you know, I can argue both sides of an argument pretty well. 'Tis a curse.

Does a film necessarily have to be led by visuals, or can the visuals supplement the dialogue-driven story? What I mean is, do films need to be told almost exclusively through visuals, as Richard pushes for? Often when I pitch ideas, they can be put to one side as either for theatre or radio. The trouble is I've no interest in writing for these platforms at the moment, so that ever-growing "stage pile" is just a nuisance. And, in fairness, I think a few of these ideas would make good short films. Okay, they require dialogue to be told, and some lack a strong visual drive, but that doesn't stop them from working as films. Very few films, and even fewer TV shows, take advantage of the visual medium in the same way that is expected of short films.

I would argue that films should use a healthy balance of visuals and dialogue (or sound, in general) to tell their story. Richard always says that if you can shut your eyes and still follow the story, then it isn't visual enough. I agree, but I also think that if you can cover your ears and still follow the story, then it's possibly too visual. Unlike radio, which is exclusively sound, film has both visuals and sound, and it should use both. And, unlike theatre, film and TV can reach much wider audiences, and are far more diverse in their ability to tell a story. That's why stage adaptations are okay - they may not be visually driven, but if it's a good story, told well, then the film will reach a much wider audience than the play could.

Since I'm more interested in writing for TV than film, this applies even more. A show like House is driven entirely by its dialogue. You'll have visual moments, but the show depends on the interaction of the characters, and the result of such interaction is dialogue. I'm currently looking forward to watching In Treatment after having it recommended by several different parties, and from what I've heard, this is even more like a play. One location, two characters, all dialogue. But that's okay. As I've said, TV can reach a much wider audience. And In Treatment seems to have been well received, proving that there is a place for such work.

To further my comparison of the two mediums, I'd add that both film and TV seem limited to Stanislavski's approach to theatre - realism. I don't think I've ever seen a film where it tries to remind you it's a work of fiction, or draw attention to the artifice, much like the theatre of Brecht. I've not seen it, but I think Dogville may be an example of this. But this approach doesn't seem to work in our industry. It can come across as cheap, and doesn't fit in with the escapism attached to film and TV.

Anyway, that was quite probably a long post which lost its way, but I hope some sense is presented. I may return to these thoughts to clarify them at some point, particularly because I don't want to be seen to oppose visual film-making. I'm merely trying to acknowledge that it's not actually as common in mainstream work as we may think.