Tyler Weaver's Blog, page 68

@ScriptMag – More Than Storyboards

My first six-part series for SCRIPTMAG dot com, “More Than Storyboards” focuses on the storytelling potential of integrating comics and film. These six posts function as a deeper companion to both my book, COMICS FOR FILM, GAMES AND ANIMATION: USING COMICS TO CONSTRUCT YOUR TRANSMEDIA STORYWORLD and the book’s companion website, COMICSTORYWORLD.

The series ran from July through November of 2013.

 

More Than Storyboards #1: On Writing Comics (12 July 2013)

I’m going to start this series the same way I started my book:

Comic books are more than storyboards.

They are more than a stepping stone to a star-studded career as a screenwriter. They are more than research and development for franchises. They are more than tights and fights. Comics is (I treat the word “Comics” as a singular, as Scott McCloud does in his seminal Understanding Comics) NOT a genre. Let me repeat that.Comics is not a genre. Brad Bird, director of The Iron Giant, The Incredibles and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, said it best (of animation, a medium facing many of the same prejudices as comics): “… next time I hear, ‘What’s it like working in the animation genre?’ I’m going to punch someone!”

Keep reading… 

 

More Than Storyboards #2: Finding the Gutter (26 July 2013)

If you want to look at comics as the “back door” you’ve been waiting for to get your failed screenplay traction as an adaptation, turn away now. You’re more than welcome to be part of the denigration of one of the most vibrant art forms of modern times into a stepping stone, but my words won’t be the fuel for your fire. That said, if you’re interested in something a little different, like the integration of comics as part of a larger storyworld, read on (and welcome).

In my last article, I said that the magic of comics comes from the gutter, the space between panels, the space that has to be filled with your imagination to create the movement between iconic representations of moments and complete the story. Like comics, transmedia storytelling–the crafting of stories that unfold across multiple media platforms, in which each piece interacts with the others to deepen the whole, but is capable of standing on its own, giving the audience the choice as to how deep into the experience they go– also finds magic in the space between, in the gutter.  When you consider deepening your screenplay into a transmedia storyworld via comics (or any medium), you have to find that gutter. What did you have to leave out? What are alternative ways of viewing the events in your film? Other perspectives? Is there a character that turns from ally to opponent? What happened there? All of these considerations are ripe gutter pickings.

Keep reading… 

 

More Than Storyboards #3: Swords, Sandals and Comics (15 August 2013)

So far, we’ve looked at the differences between comics and film storytelling and we’ve taken your mind into the gutter. Now, thanks to reader @DailyGreenDiva’s suggestion, we’re going to conduct a little thought experiment (in my book, Comics for Film, Games and Animation, I added a comic book to American Beauty… see warning below), adding a comic book to a pre-existing film: Ridley Scott’s 2000 epic, Gladiator, the story of a general turned gladiator turned savior of Rome.

Before we go further, a word of warning: just because I say a comic could be added, it doesn’t mean that itshould be added. Most works that existing in a single medium (mono-media) are perfect just as they are; conversely, if they suck, you can add the greatest comic or great American novel to it and the final product will still suck. Transmedia deepening is not a cure for crap; it’s an option for exploration. With that in mind, a mono-media work, especially a film–a medium whose running times are controlled by number of theatrical showings, the bladder capacity of the audience and other extraneous concerns–will invariably have holes, stories that could–not should–be filled in.

So, Gladiator. Comics. Let’s go. First, let’s look at the easy answers. And what’s the easiest answer?

Keep reading… 

More Than Storyboards #4: Collaboration – The Smartest Person in the Room Isn’t You (12 September 2013)

We’ve already talked about writing; from the nine elements of comics storytelling to  finding the gutter to adding a comic to Gladiator. Now it’s time to talk about an integral–scratch that: the integral–element in comics creation: collaboration and the roles that make comics comics.

When you embark on any creative collaboration, you should seek to NOT be the smartest person in the room. The best collaborations are all about the end product, and making it the best it can be. Along the way, each person in the collaborative effort should learn something new, from technical issues to scripting issues to pacing to dealing with other people. Everyone teaches everyone else on the road to something awesome.

Keep reading… 

 

More Than Storyboards #5: Digital Comics Publishing (10 October 2013)

Since this series began, I haven’t been talking about comic books, the format, necessarily. I’ve been talking about comics, the medium. With the advent of digital publishing, the floodgates of the medium have been opened to near-limitless possibility.

In conversation with the great Will Eisner (The Spirit, A Contract with God, Into the Heart of the Storm), Frank Miller (Batman Year One, The Dark Knight Returns, 300, Sin City (we’ll forgive him his own abysmal film adaptation of Eisner’s The Spirit—for the moment)) remarked on the nature of creating comics in a collector’s world:

“Essentially, we are slaves to people’s Mylar plastic bags. And that’s insane!”

Keep reading… 

 

More Than Storyboards #6: Love It (05 November 2013)

So here we are: The final installment of “More Than Storyboards.” In this series, you’ve seen that comics are, hopefully, more than storyboards. You’ve seen examples of how to integrate them with the world of your own story (and in the world of Ridley Scott’s Gladiator), and we also looked at the opportunities for boundless storytelling offered by digital comics. I’d like to make this final installment a plea. Here are three key thoughts I hope you take with you into the wild blue yonder of telling great stories in the comics medium.

Keep reading… 

Coming to Quiet Country

On a frigid December morning in 1950, Cho Nae-Shin and her sister came home from church in Pyongyang. When they came through the door, their mother told them to pack their bags and go. They thought that they would get to come home in a few days.

From war-torn Pyongyang across the 38th Parallel to Seoul, to the refugee camp on Jeju Island and the Military Hospital in Busan, to Tokyo and finally to Holmes County, Ohio, COMING TO QUIET COUNTRY follows Nae-Shin and her family’s journey across a countryside ravaged by war and plagued by unthinkable danger to their freedom from an oppressive nightmare that millions still face.

COMING TO QUIET COUNTRY is a powerful true story of determination, of the tragedies and miracles that shape the bonds of family and the power of the simplest gesture of all: listening.

COMING TO QUIET COUNTRY is available on Kindle devices for $0.99. More formats are coming soon.

 

Stories I Love: TWIN PEAKS

I was nine and not quite eleven between TWIN PEAKS’ time on the air. Even though I was so young, I have vivid recollections of the show. I remember being fascinated by the odd characters that somehow reminded me of the town I was growing up in. I remember the opening with Badalamenti’s unforgettable theme, that Leland killed Laura, that there was damn fine coffee and cherry pie, that Audrey Horne was my first fictitious crush, that Andy and Lucy were a great couple, that the dwarf in the Black Lodge talked backwards and that Coop smashed his head into a mirror and that that was that.

As fascinated as I was by the series itself (and by its stealth exit), it was bearing witness to my mother and grandfather’s discussions and disseminations of the previous night’s episode over tea that fascinated me the most. It showed me the power of a world that broke age barriers, a world that could inspire such fervent discussion among adults as the Jim Aparo BATMAN comics could inspire among my friends and I (later, BATMAN: THE ANIMATED SERIES would give me a taste of discussion with my grandfather, as he became as engrossed with the series as I was).

When I revisited TWIN PEAKS on Netflix twenty-plus years later, in a binge-watch following my epic binge-watch of LOST, I saw the show through a whole new lens. I saw how the series had effected my own work and my own storytelling loves: the peeling back of the veneers of respectability and decorum of small-town life, the unsettling suspense that hides behind sardonic humor and the other-worldly surrealism of a world that is our own but isn’t.

Badalamenti’s theme was still a welcome, a melodious vacuum that sucked me into the world and threw me out the other side of each episode, hankering for more (thankfully, the bing-watching negated the agony of a week between episodes); Leland’s confession and realization that he, as BOB, was the one who murdered his daughter was one of the most heartbreaking scenes ever put to television, resting solely on the power of Ray Wise’s unforgettable performance, arguably one of the greatest in television (Wise remains, to this day, a vastly underrated actor); Audrey Horne still held–and holds–a special place in my heart; Andy and Lucy were still a wonderful couple, and I was still rooting for them (stupid Dick Tremayne); and the Black Lodge finale, with the dwarf and the final scene with Cooper smashing his face into a mirror, possessed by BOB, still hurt, knowing that there was no resolution in sight.

One has to wonder if there would have been a resolution had the series not stumbled so badly after the discovery of Laura Palmer’s killer? When TWIN PEAKS hit its high notes, it was unforgettable; when it staggered, it was painful. The transition between Laura Palmer and Wyndham Earle was, at best, shoddy. It was demonstrative of a show that had reached to far in the wrong direction: the emotional heft of the previous mystery was gone. Cooper worked best as the private eye archetype, the constant whose discoveries peeled back the layers of Twin Peaks, and while he had his own mysteries and tragic past, it didn’t work when that past followed him to Twin Peaks. It forced a mystery from within to become one without and the show suffered because of it.

With TWIN PEAKS, the cherry pie, like the coffee, is always damn fine, even if the last batch tried something new with the recipe that didn’t quite work; it’s still tastier than any of the numerous imitators that spring up every fall. Even though they try to recreate the surreal magic of the Laura Palmer aspects of the show, they often end up remaking the last batch of cherry pie, of season two, because they miss the true beating heart of the show: the characters. They become so fascinated by the labyrinthine twists and world-building that they forget that a twist only works and a world is only made vibrant by the characters–the people–that populate them and the stories that are told by storytellers with something to say at the top of their game.

Whiz!Bam!Pow! – The Adventures of the Sentinel

Episode One

Who is the Black Scarab? Has he returned to wreak havoc on the citizens of Metro City? Will the Sentinel be able to stop him? Find out on this new installment of THE ADVENTURES OF THE SENTINEL!

 

Episode Two

 

The Black Scarab’s Revenge continues!! Did Belmont and Walker survive their plunge into the river? Who is the Black Scarab? What nefarious plans does he have in store for Metro City? And what diabolical scheme could spell the end of The Sentinel?!

 

Episode Three

 

The Black Scarab’s Revenge comes to a screeching conclusion in this historic episode that made headlines all over the world!!  Will The Sentinel be unmasked? What or WHO can save him and Metro City from the nefarious evil of THE BLACK SCARAB?!

 

The Players
Paul Montgomery….. The Sentinel / Alan Walker / The Black Scarab

Kate Dawson ….. Margot Belmont

 

Justin W. Hedges …. Joey (Episode One)

Paul R. Klein …. Rico (Episode One) 

 

Josh Cline….. Car Theft Victim (Episode Two)

Wonder Russell …. “Oh My Stars” Lady (Episode Two)

MJ Slide…. The Bystander (Episode Two)

 

Tyler Weaver…. Announcer/Narrator 

 

Artwork by Blair Campbell
Written by Tyler Weaver and Paul Klein

 

 

Orson

He is my best friend. He is the light of my life. He is gone.

My anything-but-standard poodle, Orson, was put to sleep yesterday. He was exactly six and a half years old. It was stomach cancer, throughout 75% of his stomach, that did it. It was found during exploratory surgery after he stopped eating, had x-rays and barium test. I found out about the cancer at 3:39PM yesterday. I made the call to put him to sleep at 3:57PM. I didn’t want to be there for it. I couldn’t watch the light disappear. He knew I loved him dearly, that I love him with all of my heart.

Orson and I have been together since February, 2010. His previous owner was killed in a car crash. It’s very likely that Orson had cancer from the minute he entered my life, but you would have never known it. He was always a happy boy, special, to be sure. Special needs, one could say. The lights, with Orson, were always on, but, at least 85% of the time, nobody was home.

I now realize that my role in his life was to give him the best life I could with what little time he had to begin with. I didn’t always succeed, but I always made sure the car window was rolled down just enough so he could stick his head out and feel the breeze, so he could bite at oncoming trucks and receive a Chicken McNugget from the drive-thru girls at McDonald’s that loved him. He loved those McNuggets. He loved pizza. He loved beer. He was Daddy’s baby boy. He was my son. And now I have a fluffy white hole in my broken heart. I know it will heal over time, and I know he will always be with me.

His great grandma, who died in January, was buried with a picture of him. He was her special boy too. They always had secrets: ice cream, greasy bacon, pizza, creamed chicken, copious treats, big walks in the park. He gave her happiness in the last year of her life, and she gave him happiness in the last of his. I like to think that they’re taking walks in the park now, together, eating bacon and creamed chicken sandwiches, and that he’s doing the poodle twirl and running into furniture every time he sees her.

Orson, it has been the greatest joy in my life to have given you the best life I could. Daddy will always love you, and will always miss you. You were the best son I could have asked for.

Now, paw. [Gives paw.] Good boy. Here’s your treat. Go take a walk with your great-grandma, and don’t shit in my pergola. I love you buddy.

Breaking Late to BREAKING BAD

OK, OK. I’m one of THEM: the late-comers, the band-wagon jumpers-on, whatever name I must assume, as another bête noire of BREAKING BAD fandom. I started watching BREAKING BAD regularly with the start of the final season. I’ve seen an episode here and there (I fondly remember Gustavo Fring’s Harvey Dent impression) but I was not among the faithful week-in-week-out. I knew the jist of the story: high school teacher gets cancer, cooks blue meth, builds an empire, fucks over and up a LOT of people and is the one who knocks.

Even with only being a regular watcher for the past seven weeks, I can say without hesitation that BREAKING BAD is the best television series in the history of the medium. It is brutal, it is harsh and it is everything that the characters in Vince Gilligan’s masterpiece deserve. Every single iota of story pours from deeply-realized characters–people–and their selfish and self-preservational motivations that they masquerade as selflessness. BREAKING BAD is a wound rubbed raw; it is something sorely lacking in today’s storytelling: it is honest.

Each and every episode is accessible, adhering to the old adage that every (insert serialized medium here) is someone’s first – or their last. Each episode makes me want to do the two things that every installment of a serialized story should aspire to: keep watching and dig deeper into the story, to see what came before. BREAKING BAD’s continuity is irresistible, not expectant.

I know I’m not watching BREAKING BAD in the optimal manner; I did, after all, miss out on a large portion of the experience (one that, as Ray Bradbury said, truly, will never happen again): the anguish between episodes (I took it in a small dosage this season), the hellish existence between seasons.

It’s like going to a bookstore and reading the end of the book. The cover interested me and I happened upon a random page.

And I kept reading.

And reading.

And reading.

And before I knew it, I had finished the story. And then, the book was in my hands, out the door and ready to be ripped into from the beginning.

Now that the series is ending on Sunday, I will walk out of the bookstore with the book whose ending I will soon learn and go back to the first page and experience a different journey, the DVD-watching one, without commercials, in binges and bursts, the trade-paperback version of BREAKING BAD. For me, the journey is just beginning; I entered ever further than en media res. I know what happens, now I get to experience HOW it happens.

Picking Up Sticks

About a month ago, I picked up the drumsticks for the first time since I left music school in 2004. OK, it wasn’t the first first time; there was that one time in 2010, but the less said about that the better.

I’ve played drums since I was in fifth grade and got that 25-pound snare drum (that I still use). I can remember lugging the sonuvabitch in my miniscule fifth-grade arms and trying not to break things, like the door windows of Bus 10. I can remember not keeping my fours straight. I can remember brutal put-downs and soul-crushes. I can remember absolutely wonderful times and working with really cool people.

What I can’t remember is why I stopped playing in the first place. Probably because I took it too seriously and accepted the conservatory indoctrination-by-denigration as gospel, until I reacted against it, left, and went to Berklee (which was everything the conservatory wasn’t), where I made a point of NOT playing at all, focusing instead on composition. The click of drumsticks reminded me of everything I hated about the 1999-2000 year, the stuff-ass old-boy’s club of tuxedo-wearing bearded-penguins (without the charm of the animal), of noise that passed for music and Monday-night orchestra rehearsals that I dreaded like my dogs dread a bath and a day without a rousing game of “stick.”

So why, with all of that baggage, did I pick them up again?

In my more contemplative moments, I like to think that there’s a deeper reason. Maybe I put all the baggage in a box, poked holes in it and sent it to Cambodia, like Garfield and Odie. But who cares?

The best reason for doing anything, from cooking a meal to running a marathon to picking up drumsticks again is the same question:

WHY NOT?

All I know is that I’m having fun and driving the dogs nuts.

Stories I Love: THE MYSTERIOUS DR. SATAN

THE MYSTERIOUS DR. SATAN is the first movie serial I remember seeing and it’s still my favorite.

It was supposed to be the first SUPERMAN film, but DC backed out of the rights negotiations at the last minute, and the first on-screen Superman was replaced with The Copperhead, a guy in a business suit and a full-face Cobra-Commander-style copper mask and Batman’s last name, who (SPOILERS) gave up being the Copperhead at the end of his heroic adventures on celluloid before Bruce Wayne gave up being Batman by about 72 years.

The plot is simple: the eponymous Dr. Satan, as embodied by Eduardo Cianelli, is going to take over the world with his army of robots and amass untold wealth as soon as he gets the remote control device created by Professor Thomas Scott (played by the go-to good guy scientist actor with the awesome name, C. Montague Shaw) and guarded by the Copperhead and Professor Scott’s daughter, Lois (Republic had six weeks to change the script from Superman to the Copperhead and clearly didn’t care about names).

And why, one may ask, does Dr. Satan want to take over the world with an army of robots and amass untold wealth? Because why the hell not. Who needs to know motivation when ROBOTS? Okay, one robot: Republic’s special effects department didn’t have the money for an army of “hot water boiler” robots.

This begs a question: why does deeper meaning have to be found in everything these days, from comics to films to video games to books to a good meal? Have we forgotten how to have fun without irony or political correctness, without grandiose statements of the human condition, without nitpicking the tiniest of the tiny, or without masking our enjoyment in self-conscious bullshit masquerading as intelligence and opinion? What’s wrong with saying “it made me feel like a kid again” without the devil-tail of adult justification?

Oh, who cares. ROBOTS. Seriously. Pick it up, sit back and feel like a kid again. Enjoy yourself. You’re allowed.

 

Whiz!Bam!Pow!: The Adventures of the Sentinel Episode Two

 

The Black Scarab’s Revenge continues!! Did Belmont and Walker survive their plunge into the river? Who is the Black Scarab? What nefarious plans does he have in store for Metro City? And what diabolical scheme could spell the end of The Sentinel?!

The Players
Paul Montgomery….. The Sentinel / Alan Walker / The Black Scarab

Kate Dawson ….. Margot Belmont

Josh Cline….. Car Theft Victim 

Wonder Russell …. “Oh My Stars” Lady 

MJ Slide…. The Bystander 

Tyler Weaver…. Announcer/Narrator 
Artwork by Blair Campbell
Written by Tyler Weaver and Paul Klein

 

The story continues at WHIZBAMPOW.COM!

The Adventures of Crab-Maga #1