Like the Oasis song ponders, you know that feeling you get? That you’ve seen it all before…well, deja vu is about the recognition of having experienced a situation in the past, while lacking a memory–real or imagined–to support that feeling. Most people know the sensation, and no one has satisfactorily explained its cause. At least not yet.
Deja Vu does not explain the mystery either, but the movie does entertain; it is very watchable. An ATF agent, played by Denzel Washington, uncovers a link between a homicide and a terrorist attack. With help from some cutting edge technology, he visualizes events leading up to the murder, and butts against an interesting paradox: If they can prevent disaster by changing the past, even at the expense of creating a different future other should they try? Audience says yes.

What works about this movie:

1) Cast. The right mix of known and unknowns. The right blend of faces and personalities.

2) Eye candy. And lots of it. Convincing explosions and disaster footage.

3) Execution of concept. Appropriates an old theme and makes it seem new.

4) Engaging. The audience wants to follow the characters along to the end.

Possible enhancements:

1) Less metaphysics. In a movie like this, one grounded in entertainment rather than science, the fact that someone can move through time and space, even at great personal risk, is far more interesting than the mechanics and theory behind the leaps they take. Not to say the movie dwells on technical matters, but a few of the imagine-if-time-was-like-a-line-on-a-paper dialog tracts jarred me loose of the story briefly.

2) Tighter editing. A few scenes could have been cut.

Verdict: A decent flick, it’s worth a DVD rental, or afternoon matinee–for the very motivated.

Shifted through the idea hopper of possible projects tabled while working on the novel and surprised myself. The first unexpected realization: the sheer number of text files loaded with ideas, which I welcomed. The wrinkle was the second surprise. Recording the ideas in a collection of separate files had understated the true count. Initially believed total landed near the dozen mark; it was eighteen.

To organize them, I copied one sentence blurbs about each into a spreadsheet, then sorted the ideas by format. Or what I thought would be its logical format, that was. In other words, based on the situation which approach–novel, screenplay, or short story–would make the most effective backdrop to develop the story arc. At least based on what I think I know about the story so far, anyway. This also takes into account a self-assessment of my skills. Perhaps a project could work as a short story or a screenplay, but in my hands, I only see a screenplay. Another writer could forecast the opposite, or maybe both.

With an idea of what type of an investment each idea implied–novels take a lot longer than screenplay or short stories–I ranked them based on my interest level. That eliminated half the contenders. Five others were set aside because although the drive might exist, I had trouble visualizing a story based on the situation synopsis. Cast two more to the curb because their subjects demanded a serious time investment, more so than I wanted to make at this point.

Which left two strong candidates.

It was a tough call. One project I began last year during a lull, and only because I wanted to, but stopped after thirty-five pages. Yet the situation was in the pocket. Still is. Something about it got me interested last January, and I could be very interested again. Another case for that project was that I dislike collecting undone manuscripts. I’m too old for sure-I’ll-get-back-to-that-one-someday rationalization. Better to finish following a vision and fail, than to never let it breathe. And even reaching for the wrong idea might just reveal insight necessary to execute on the right one.

Yet the last idea definitely tugged the strings of imagination. Most intriguing about the last contender to me was that I could see the idea working in all three formats, and that I could develop the idea regardless of the chosen form. A few scenes played in my mind, which I also interpreted as an encouraging sign, since it typically happens when I’m knee deep in a manuscript, and not before I commit to paper.

But in the end, I elected to do both. For the time being, I’ll run with the new idea one week, then visit the unfinished one for another. If I can’t make up my mind by Christmas Break, I’ll continue working on both, alternating projects by weeks. Still, I bet one idea wins out.

The challenge will be letting the process happen until it does.

After finishing the draft and passing it off to the Final Three, I granted myself a two week writing vacation; it ends Friday. Until then, only blogging and reading–no new material or revisiting older manuscripts. My self imposed exile has a precedent.
A few years ago I finished a draft of one novel and immediately dove face first into another. Maybe it was more like fist first into face. Two months into the new manuscript I became so frustrated, I almost stopped writing for good. Not sure if I would have stayed that course forever–likely not, I think–but the thought of quitting was very tempting and seemed absolutely reasonable in the moment. My mind wanted to wander a little bit, explore other areas, tackle issues beside those conflicts my characters devised. Racing ahead without pause proved a disaster, though this presumptive crusade served up a great lesson: Let the batteries discharge completely before fueling them back up for another big project. The manuscript that I almost quit writing over due to frustration, by the way, is the very one in the hands of the Final Three. Lesson learned.
Still, the respite begs the question: what’s next? Well, something different, thanks to the idea hopper. A focusing technique, the hopper a mechanism for capturing the spirit of ideas as they arrive without derailing a project in hand. Each time an interesting–and oh so unrelated–seed takes root, intriguing enough that it threatens to divert my attention away from the story in progress, I draft a synopsis and save it for later reference. Right now there’s twelve ideas in the idea hopper.

Now I just need to pick one.

Rupert Murdoch made a bold and, what some consider, sensitive decision to drop the OJ Simpson book and interview special. Bowing to public uproar and complaints, he reaffirmed the precedent of media treatment towards Mr. Simpson in place since the globally televised verdict. Book the Juice and then back away when the lightning bolt shorts out the switchboards. Right now, the OJ walked story in first person is not safe, or even feasible, prime-time subject matter. True, OJ is free to live his life, sign autographs, spend his protected retirement money, but the public does not stomach his face on a big screen–even after eleven years of quiet time.
And sentiment might not shift quickly. Or ever.
If he did it, maybe being the most infamous man in the world who can’t get an interview is part of his punishment. That the people on the other side of that big glowing box don’t want him inside their living room, laptop or iPod, just might be the image haunting him most of all.

There’s a few tweaks left to do, but I’m happy with the look and feel of the new site. With all this network admin business at my job, I forgot I like coding, and did quite a lot of it the last few days. Feedback and comments are welcome, so feel free to chime in.
Although the Final Three are working hard on their suggestions–well, two of them anyway, the third won’t get their packet until Wednesday–I’m off for the rest of the weekend.

Now that the novel is en route to the Final Three for feedback and comments, a few stats caught my attention.

Writing time: 25 months
Pages: 340
Drafts: 4
Word count: 88,880 << eights are good luck, eh?

The site overhaul continues, and is happening in the background as I write this entry. Hopefully by Friday I’ll cut over to the new design.

Gritty. Real. Masterful. Violent. The Departed is a great classic to be, with a fine script, a skilled director and a dead on cast. Literally a trifecta for the audience, this film delivers what the ads and reviews promise–a great story.

The Departed burrows into the Boston underworld where criminals and cops intersect–and sometimes collaborate–and it does so convincingly. Matt Damon plays the understudy to crime boss Jack Nicholson, and as an adult becomes a state trooper who serves both the state and the mob with equal zeal. Leo DiCaprio is a fresh cadet from a connected family who accepts the challenge of a deep cover assignment with one purpose: infiltrate the lair of the very criminal Matt Damon protects.

Chock full of memorable lines and visual imagery, the story ramps up early and and flies through the gates fast. Each scene does what it needs to and plays well. And Jack Nicholson still has the chops, and alone justifies the ticket price.

What works about The Departed:

1) Direction. Can’t say this enough. A director can take a good story and make it great, which is what Scorsese has done here.

2) Script. Tight and well planned.

3) Actors. Expertly cast and all believable.

4) Soundtrack. Usually I don’t notice the soundtracks, but this one is unusual. The Rolling Stone’s Gimme Shelter appears twice, piecemeal style. That’s rare in movies today, where studios cram as many titles as possible to keep the royalty gravy flowing.

What needs improvement:

Not out on DVD yet.

Verdict: Theater full price and DVD purchase.