Red Dwarf - Back to Earth pt I

New Red Dwarf. Finally a chance to give closure to the story, and a happily-ever-after for these beloved characters. A chance to atone for the weak and puerile Series VIII and finish on a high. I have greatly looked forward to this!

Having been a somewhat obsessive fan as a teenager, I grew out of it and hadn't (re-)watched an episode for about ten years until I saw a few recently. Happily, they stood up to the ravages of time, and more pertinently to the mature judgement of adulthood, and of an aspiring writer. Funny, sharp, inventive, showing a great rapport between the actors. Fully deserving of its exalted place in the sit-com pantheon. This was a happy nostalgia trip indeed.

There are two more new episodes to come, tonight and tomorrow, and I really want to like them. I really wanted to like last night's episode too, and I tried hard to view it with realistic expectations. Alas, it fell short even of these.

We weren't given an explanation of how the proir cliffhanger was resolved, why the crew have disappeared, where Kochanski is, or where Holly is. It's like a reset button was pressed and Series VIII didn't happen. Fine by me! No time wasted digging our way out of old holes. The "Nine Years Previously" caption (or whatever it was) hasn't yet been tied up - a whole episode of flashback? I'm sure all this will become clear soon, but why put the caption there at all? It seems a jarring loose end.

The opening scene of dialogue between Lister and Rimmer is a strong one, and a welcome reminder of the tenor of the early series. Sneeze-ironing made me laugh aloud - a promising start indeed. Rimmer, however, quickly became annoying, and acted throughout without realistic motivations - no longer a believable (if objectionable!) character - and he dangled dangerously above the tentacled monster of self-parody.

The plot felt like it was all happening purely to give them a magic bullet to return to Earth. The leviathan (opening scenes of Back to Reality with much less panache?) appeared out of nowhere, did nothing, and then vanished again. There was no narrative tension. Ms Hologram appeared out of nowhere, had a mishandled interaction with Rimmer and an cringingly unoriginal one-character-doesn't-know-another-one-is-listening scene, and hands them the magic bullet (surprised nobody tried to sleep with her - or is this still to come?). I don't mind necessary plot elements being introduced, but they need to stand up on their own - the strings were all too visible. The show depends on our seeing things through Lister's eyes, coloured by his surprisingly-perceptive and human take on events, but he vanished from the script the moment Ms arrives. Lonliness and the hope of a return to Earth have surely been the definitive underlying tensions of Red Dwarf ever since its inception - why do we not see this in Lister now the hopes look like being realised? His reaction is absolutely pivotal! Why do we not see the social impact of a new crew-member into a hugely insular group (this was handled better in Series VII with KK's arrival)? Maybe we will tonight, but even for the first part it was a golden opportunity missed.

Much of the show has a CGI background, and it isn't seamless. I've never liked CGI skutters, and the wrestle-with-tentacles scene was poor. Shoestring special effects are part of - and almost define - Red Dwarf, but shoestring CGI seems almost dishonest. Cunning model shots feel more real, provoke a far more sympathetic response, and have a certain charm which using computers utterly lacks. The Star Wars prequels suffered badly from this too, and their budget was rather larger! Given how the show was financed, this is all forgiveable, but it makes the suspension of disbelief that bit harder.

I know nothing of the practical constraints they may have had, but not filming in front of a live audience was a mistake (though I'm glad they omitted a taped laughter track). The performance as a whole lacked its once-effortless vibrance, and the characters didn't gel together as a 'posse' like they once did - there was no sense of a group of people who were very familiar with each other and had been through so much together. This, sadly, was once a central pillar of the show's deserved success, subtle and intangible though it may be. I can imagine it being very difficult resurrecting a twenty-year-old format and immediately recapturing the old magic, but the dynamic just isn't there. Would a studio audience have helped the actors?

Red Dwarf has never had bullet-proof writing, but the earlier work stood up far better than this. Almost anything can be forgiven if the result is funny, but the aforesaid laugh-out-loud was the only one so far, and this brings the other shortcomings of the scripts into sharper relief.

I've greatly enjoyed reading Robert Llewellyn's twitter feed during the production, and it seems that I am in a minority of those disappointed with the show. I sincerely hope that it is an outstanding critical and financial success, and wish all involved nothing but the best. Given my own total anonymity there is little chance of any of them, or indeed anybody at all, reading these thoughts, which is probably for the best. I also sincerely hope that the next two episodes are an improvement upon this one - I would very much like the Red Dwarf journey to end in a happy place.

This is a writing exercise: take something which I love to bits, and figure out why its good stuff is better than its less good stuff. I still have a lot to learn as a writer, and learning from others' mistakes is as important as learning from their triumphs.

Musing

Been a while since I posted. This blog has largely served its purpose, which frankly never involved any serious expectation of being read (which isn't to say that it being read isn't nice!). I have another idea for a blog which would, I think, have the potential to be properly popular, but I really don't have the time to develop it at present. Given the weight of things that I'm taking on, this isn't likely to happen soon.

Anyway, I heard today that a company is interested in reviving Guilds, the musical comedy I co-wrote for the Edinburgh Fringe '07. I have rather mixed feelings about this.

Reasons to go ahead:
- The show took a lot of hard work, and deserves to be seen/experienced by more people.
- We're very proud of it.
- It might cause, in a networky way, something else to happen by someone seeing it.
- Probable expectation of some nominal royalties.
- We are not famous or in-demand enough to afford pretentions like insisting that our work is performed in such a way as preserves the original intentions.
- Seeing a fresh take on the show might be very rewarding.
- Seeing it performed again might be very exciting. It was last time.
- Being among a company of people who like the show even half as much as the original cast would be tremendously rewarding.
- The central idea of the show is genuinely original and fresh, and has a lot more mileage left in it.
- Quite a nice ego-trip. Let's be honest here.
- A chance to address some of the less-than-perfect features of the show with the benefit of hindsight. New professional shows get loads of preview performances so the writers/directors can get it right before it opens. We had one chance. (Well two, actually, with the break in the middle of the Fringe run, and not all of the changes I/we made were improvements).

Reasons not to go ahead:
- It will never be as special as the first time, where the cast comprised many of my closest friends.
- The atmosphere around the original production was like nothing I've ever experienced, and any revival will never come close.
- Some of the jokes have aged and will need rewriting.
- One of the central themes was absolutely bang on the zeitgeist in summer '07. It is now way out of date, and the wrapping-up of the show will hugely suffer from it. It is too deeply woven into the plot to be replaced without a significant rewrite, and I doubt that an adequate replacement could be found.
- They won't do it "properly", no matter how good the company is (and I honestly have no idea whether or not they are). Seeing it done wrong will really annoy me. Even the original production, in which I had little direct influence, was not entirely "right" in my eyes, and that was with the composer MD'ing (with whom I shared a very close concept of the show) and a receptive director.
- What goes in the Fringe stays in the Fringe. Some shows only work there, and I think this is one of them. Would need to be a double-header at the very least.
- Seeing a new production may tarnish the memories of the original show, which are among my very happiest.

Basically, it comes down to this: is seeing a second production of the show worth the fact that it cannot possibly be as special as the first one?

I really don't know the answer to this.

Upbeat: I

Well, it's six months now since I started this blog. I still have a lot of novel still to write, but I feel that I'm settling nicely into the style, if not the routine of actually writing enough.

Ages of Man is dead, long live Upbeat. I still don't intend posting any more material that is destined for said book, but here I'm going to throw together a sketch to fill out back-story, and to try to develop a voice for Ellen. I recently wrote a scene from her perspective (probably the only one in the book), and realised that her character could do with a bit more development, as could my writing of her voice. This is a not-very-thought-out attempt at so doing.

---

Ellen heard the 'phone ring, and knew without looking who was calling. She didn't rush to answer it.
"Hello, mother, how lovely to - "
"Ellen, darling, how was last night? When do I get to meet him?"
"Mother! He only took me out for dinner!"
"Well I want to know everything about him. Gary, you said his name was?"
"Harry. He's a - "
"Prince Harry? Wouldn't it be wonderful if you married a Prince!"
"He's a history student, we met at - "
"Is he as handsome as Timmy was?"
"Mother!" The conversation was settling into a familiar pattern.
"I'm only asking."
"Well, yes as a matter of fact. He's quite tall, with curly blond hair. We met at a party, his flatmate is one of my old school friends. He's - "
"Good. I wish I still looked as stunning as you, then I'd find myself some dishy young man."
"Mother! Don't let daddy hear you say that, it's not nice!"
"Speaking of daddy, he's having a shoot next weekend, would Gary like to come? I'm just dying to meet him."
Conversation, such as it was, continued for a quarter of an hour. Ellen's normally endless patience generally wore thin during conversations with her mother, especially the ones about her love-life, which most of them were. To her mother it was absolutely imperative that she found a suitable match before she was too old (i.e. 22) and it was even more imperative that he be handsome, athletic, charming, and from "good stock". If Ellen actually liked him, then so much the better.

Half-formed idea

The musing following my previous post has lead me to think about why the setting is weak, and I've come to realise that this is due a lack of any narrative drive. It is simply there as a backdrop to the action.

It's occurred to me that an underlying assumption in the majority of amateur performance - be it theatre, orchestra, choir or whatever - is that people will go out of their way to see it. In reality, audiences are generally strongly biased towards friends/relatives of the performers, who will have been 'encouraged' to attend. There are exceptions of course, but if an amateur group suddenly ceased to exist, hardly anyone not involved would notice or care. This is in stark contrast to professional groups. Furthermore, the audience's appreciation is often insensitive to the quality of the performance. The performers tend to behave as if the performance were as important as for a professional group - understandable, as it is their pastime - even if the standard falls far short of that (talking the talk?). Would the performers actually like it if they got what they wished for? Would an audience of 3000 and a frank review in The Times really please an amateur group?

Bearing this in mind, I wonder if the orchestra storyline could be made to stand up on its own by turning this on its head - perhaps setting it in a world in which amateur performances share the same properties as professional ones (large audiences, reviews in major newspapers etc.), perhaps setting it in reality but having the (poor) orchestra suddenly become famous.

It's not quite right yet, but I think it's a thread worthy of more thought.

Why aren't I writing another show?

I've just listened to some recordings of Guilds, the musical I co-wrote (a working DVD, alas, hasn't yet reached me), and was at once reminded of several of the most satisfying aspects of writing a show. My writing, such as it is, came alive in a way that simply isn't possible with a book. I would send off fresh lyrics to the show's composer, and in return would receive a recording of a new song. The characters, previously existing only in our imaginations, took on a life of their own when the roles were filled by real actors, most of them close friends. Being among the cast/crew and seeing how much joy the show was obviously bringing them. Watching audiences being entertained, laughing (in most of the right places...) and applauding. None of these happens to an author, at least until he gets so famous that his work is adapted for the screen or stage - hardly something to assume will happen!

Why throw that away and write a book instead? Why confine myself into one of the most solitary processes possible? Several reasons. The first is purely pragmatic; when I'd decided to start writing again, my previous collaborator was not available, and I wasn't desirous of trying to find another and trying to develop a similar rapport. Second, I'd found that the plot and dialogue had come much more naturally to me than the lyrics, and while I believe that my lyrics show a strong degree of craftsmanship, they lack somewhat in emotional clout. I can do 'clever' a lot better than I can do 'sincere', and that is a limitation indeed for a lyricist. I want to try a different medium, and see if I am more suited to writing in it. I'm not a huge fan of straight theatre, so it was either through-composed opera (probably something like Britten) or a novel. Opera librettists are unquestionably second-class citizens, and I fancied finding an appropriate composer even less than for musicals. So a novel it is.

My writing style is increasingly turning out like early Pratchett, but without the fantasy. While pleasing, and a little unsurprsiing, this worries me, because early Pratchett used the fantasy to drive the plot and to provide interesting situations for his strong characters to deal with in a decidedly non-fantastic manner. His later work is more character-driven, but still retains the complexity of plot and setting afforded by his rich fantasy world. Guilds, if anything, fitted this mould better - it had real characters in a ridiculous setting that was self-consistent and fully real to its inhabitants, and a lot of the (plot-driven) show's freshness derived directly from its setting - this aspect of the show is one that I think we did very well indeed. Leaves of plausibility floating on a lake of silliness. Upbeat worries me because it is, if anything, too real - it is a very mundane setting and the plot is, frankly, uninspired. I think the characters are strong and the story a good one, and I think the book will be funny, but I'm worried that the plot and setting are insufficiently interesting to provide a good enough backdrop to a character-driven novel. Having realistic characters is essential for any writing, and the interest must ultimately derive from them. I worry that I'm turning away from the most successful aspect of my one previous project.

(On a side note, I find the Discworld novels are relying less and less on the fantasy, and there are times now when the fantasy actually gets in the way - pretty much all the fantasy (setting excpeted) in Making Money could be cut without harming the book, except for the Deus Ex Machina golden golems. Not his best.)

Perhaps the solution to this is to keep the characters and the basic story, but dump the orchestra tour and move the story somewhere more interesting. One of the strengths of the project so far is in making humour from the extremely mundane (the edited stuff does this better than the blog posts!), but this is possible in pretty much any setting.


Hmmm.

Insert Title Here

I have just got back from the first dissection meeting of a new and very promising writers' group, at which I got a lot of useful feedback. I am taking away the message that I am on the right track and am worrying about the right things, though I may need to be a little more careful about some of them.

I have a prospective title.

This was in no way discussed, but an idea has spontaneously occurred anyway. I very much admire the Woody Allen film Match Point, particularly the way that the title tied in not just with the setting, but with the structure as well. The film opens with a tennis player describing how a match can be won or lost if the ball hits the net cord, as it is little more than a coin toss which side of the net the ball will land, causing jubilation to one player and despair to the other. This theme is repeated later in the film, and how the film ends depends on a very similar event (which I won't spoil).

The ending of the novel is very clear to me. George will finish it single (again...), but very much changed for the experience, and he will set off to start university with a new, justified, sense of optimism (not revealing details!). Upbeat is a possible title. It means two things - optimistic in mood, and, musically, the unstressed beat preceding a (more 'interesting') bar/phrase/movement. Both of these fit the feeling with which the novel ends. A paragraph setting this up at the beginning, and another at the end would tie the plot, the setting and the title together nicely I think.

Update

Just a brief update on the situation of this hugely unpopular blog. I intend to discontinue posting new material on Ages of Man (or whatever it eventually gets called) as I believe the project is viable and do not want to have any more material in the public domain. I will continue using this blog to post about the process of writing itself. I will also use it for writing exercises - I have acquired books on good writing technique, and while I'm delighted that there were a number of chapters which taught me nothing new, there are areas which would benefit from working through given exercises, which I will do in due course. I intend to work on a detailed plot for the novel next.

I've also been pretty busy with Real Life lately and haven't had any time to write, but this will hopefully cease to be the case soon.