In a script for The West Wing, Aaron Sorkin wrote the most insightful articulation of the source of the deep and seemingly unbridgeable division in this country, when he spoke, through one of his characters, about
“the hate the Right has for the Left, and the mountains of disrespect the Left has for the Right…”
Mel Brooks used to do a comedy bit where he’d rename words to make them sound more evocative of the objects they represent, but when he was asked to consider the word “banana”, he replied,
“’Banana’ is right.”
That Sorkin line is right. (And the root cause of our national difficulties.)
That’s why I like Sorkin. He says smart things in memorable ways. As a writer, it’s something to aspire to. Something to admire.
Sorkin comes to mind because I just saw the new movie he wrote, The Social Network. Twice. I don’t usually see movies twice. Not when I have to pay both times. I’ll watch them again on television. But that’s free.
Aaron Sorkin is the perfect writer for The Social Network. A smart writer writing smartly about smart people. And being a smart human being as well as a smart writer, Sorkin provides us with a “ring of truth” understanding of how smartness informs smart people’s characters, or at least the image they project of themselves – a combination of arrogance blended with a gnawing sense of personal unacceptability.
This isn’t a review of the movie. If you’re interested, go see The Social Network, and let me know what you think. I liked it a lot. Your opinion may differ.
When I see good writing, my natural impulse is to check under the hood, and see how it works. I can’t do that with machinery, because I don’t understand what I’m looking at. But I can do it with stories. It’s just the way it is.
I’m not shy about rewriting my heroes. When I was learning it on the piano, I (very slightly) changed the words to a Randy Newman song, and I think I made it better. With Aaron Sorkin, I haven’t considered exactly how I would change things. I’m only at the point where I’ve noticed a recurring, disconcerting element in his approach.
The element is “the bluff.” I’ve noticed that in a number of Sorkin-written movies, there comes a point where an essential component of the storytelling mechanism, upon further consideration, does not hold up.
I first came across this perturbing glitch amidst the winning characters and the smarter-than-the-average-bear snappy banter of A Few Good Men.
The movie, structured as a courtroom drama, centers on whether or not Colonel Jessep (Jack Nicholson) ordered the “Code Red”, an unauthorized punishment, meted out in secret to Marines whose performance is substandard. The “bluff” here is that, from the first time we meet Jessep in the movie, we know for a certainty that he did. The way the character is written and portrayed, there is no reason to believe otherwise.
Still, Sorkin structures his screenplay in the traditional courtroom drama manner, as if it’s building to a climactic revelation on the Witness Stand. Like we don’t already know what it is.
At some unidentified moment, the storyline subtly shifts to a matter of considerably less interest – whether Lieutenant Kaffee (Tom Cruise) will go the distance and get Jessep to acknowledge ordering the “Code Red” on the record, thus mitigating the punishment for his clients, but, more importantly, making Kaffee’s late brilliant attorney-father proud of him.
Sorkin seems to be hoping the audience will conflate the “courtroom fireworks” template with his “make Daddy proud” scenario, and remain spellbound by the proceedings.
It worked. Until later. When it suddenly came to me,
“That was a bluff.”
A second, less important bluff in A Few Good Men concerns the rationale for Jessep’s having ordered the “Code Red.” (Which, by the way, I don’t even know exists.) It’s the famous “You want us on that wall! You need us on that wall!” speech. The problem is, the movie was released late in 1992. By then, the “Cold War” being over, there wasn’t really much of a wall.
The rationale was a factual anachronism.
But a dramatic bluff.
Okay, so what? A couple of story elements in one movie that were less sturdy than I wish they’d been. “Give the guy a break.” “Okay, fine.”
But then I double-watche The Social Network, and darned if I don’t feel I’d been being bluffed again.
Billionaire and Facebook originator Mark Zuckerberg is being simultaneously sued by two separate plaintiffs, his former best friend and original Facebook CFO, claiming he has been aced out of his share of the company’s ownership, and twin brothers who contend that Zuckerberg stole the idea for Facebook from them.
The evidence is unbalanced in a direction indicating that Zuckerberg is either guilty, or can easily be proven to be guilty on both counts. Plus, near the end of the movie, a female character sympathetic to Zuckerberg reminds him that, being a billionaire, the amount of settlement money he will be required to pay is like “a speeding ticket.”
Once again, a taut, this time, pre-courtroom drama, with, when you examine it, no actual suspense. Plus, very little at stake.
And yet, it works.
Reviewing The Social Network, Manohla Dargis, the respected film critic for the New York Times writes:
“The movie is paced like a thriller.”
It is. But at its core, from a “thriller” standpoint, there is nothing thrilling going on.
It’s just another bluff.
Okay, wait. What if it’s just me? I’m misunderstanding. I’m overstating. I’m distorting. I’m misrepresenting. What if this “bluff” idea is simply in my head?
I have to consider this. What if I’m flat wrong about the whole thing?
The Short Version Of Why I Don’t Think I Am:
I worked on the show Lateline, co-created by and starring (now Senator) Al Franken. In one episode, entitled “The Seventh Plague”, Al’s character, Al Freundlich, a nerdy reporter of the utmost integrity, is cast as a “White House Reporter”, specifically to give a major big studio blockbuster “verisimilitude.”
A real reporter, playing a reporter in a summer “Disaster Picture.” Rob Reiner, playing the character “Rob Reiner”, is the disaster movie’s director.
At one point, Freundlich emphasizes the need for total accuracy by referring to a memorable, but to Freundlich, embarrassing moment in the Reiner-directed The American President.
Written by Aaron Sorkin.
The President (Michael Douglas) is about to deliver the State of the Union Address. Accompanying him to the chamber where the speech will be given, his new sweetheart (Annette Bening) asks him how he “manage[s] to give a woman flowers and be President at the same time?” To which, the President unforgettably replies,
“Well…it turns out I have a Rose Garden.”
Freundlich, reminding “Reiner” that the State of the Union Address in traditionally delivered in January, then drives home his point about verisimilitude:
“Roses in January? I don’t think so.”
This exchange was not written by me. It was written by Al Franken, who noticed something “off” about that moment, and included in our script. The “Reiner” character’s response to the criticism?
“It was the best line in the movie.”
It may well have been.
But it was a bluff.
So you see? It’s not just me.
Senator Al noticed too.
I have found, with Sorkin's work, it's like you're on a roller coaster of verbiage. Most of it is pretty intelligent, which can be seductive and exciting to anyone whose brains have not been totally lobotomized by the culture. You give him leeway because there are a lot of great exchanges. But after a while, I get worn out. Especially in movies, where you can 'show' rather than 'tell' much more effectively.
ReplyDeleteI ask myself, is it possible that everyone in a particular scene is so 'snappy'? All the time? I couldn't cope with 'Sports Night' or 'Studio 60' because of this unnatural pace. When all of the characters sound the same, when lines are interchangeable and no one takes a breath, I lose interest. (Woody Allen has the same problem. No differentiation in verbal style or content, not only from character to character, but from film to film).
I, too, liked 'The Social Network', but felt sold out at the end, like you. I felt like they were picking on Mark, needlessly. I know we're not supposed to feel sorry for someone who has so much money, but there you are!
I also hate it when 'real life' movies use that exhausted convention of conveying significant subsequent outcomes on titles after the film is over.
Except, maybe, in 'Animal House'.
I agree with comments. I am a very very big Sorkin fan...but I think he cops out and takes the easy route from time to time...He has characters say things that they wouldn't say for the killer next line. There are so many examples. One will make the point...from the pilot of The West Wing (which, btw, is my favorite show...even more than MASH, Barney Miller and Taxi...sorry).
ReplyDeleteDuring a meeting at the White House with the Christian right...Reverend Van Dyke is there and discussing, among other things, the commandments. The discussion gets heated:
VAN DYKE
The First Commandment says "Honor thy Father".
TOBY
No it doesn’t.
JOSH
Toby--
TOBY
It doesn’t.
JOSH
Listen--
TOBY
No, if I’m gonna make you sit through this preposterous exercise, we’re gonna get
the names of the damn commandments right.
MARY
Okay. Here we go.
TOBY
"Honor thy Father" is the Third Commandment.
VAN DYKE
Then what’s the First Commandment?
Which leads to us, for the first time, to see the President who says, as he walks in to the room with booming voice:
PRESIDENT JED BARTLET
"I am the Lord your God. Thou shalt worship no other God before me."
Boy, those were the days, huh?
Great moment...it really is. A brilliant introduction to the President...but...even though
the Reverend may not be our cup of tea, ...HE KNOWS THE COMMANDMENTS!
It's a cop out to get to the great line.
Having said that...it's still a great scene with great pacing and great dialogue. He still is my writing hero. So...I guess it doesn't bother me that much.
Like Matt, I'm a big fan of W. Wing. I, however, can easily buy into the aforementioned reverend confusing the commandments. I've reached that age where it's easy to confuse things, even such things that nobody would imagine I would confuse. Now, it's unlikely that all of the clergy in the room would have confused which commandment is first, but the verbal exchange was rapid and any interruption would have thrown off the pacing and diluted Bartlet's entrance. So I disagree, and agree, on the same point. My only problem with WW were the occasional "little" factual errors over the years - and there were way too few to list them - they just got my attention; I don't recall any that had any direct bearing on the storyline. As sure as the 2nd commandment allows me to keep and bear arms, Aaron Sorkin is the best screenwriter around.
ReplyDeleteA few notes on today's post.
ReplyDeleteAs for the WALL reference, you left out a telling portion of the speech.
Jessep: Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me there.
It had nothing to do w/the Berlin Wall. It had nothing to do with the fence separating Gitmo from Cuba. It's a simple metaphor.
As for the "bluff," it too deserves greater explanation. While there was no doubt that Jessep ordered the Code Red, there was no reason to believe he would admit it in court. Indeed, he was about to be promoted to a spot on the NSC. Admitting to ordering a Code Red that turned into murder would be foolish. Add to the fact that Kaffee was in a precarious position in that he would be held in contempt for accusing Jessop of any crime if he couldn't prove it, and he really had no proof. So when Jessep blurted out "You're goddamn right I did," (order the Code Red), it was a shock. Jessop's arrogance betrayed him.
What is a bit out off the path is that the two defendants were convicted of conduct unbecoming a US Marine...and there is no such thing.
The story is based on an actual event. Sorkin's sister was a Navy lawyer who told him about the event. Talk to any number of Marines and you'll get conflicting opinions as to whether Code Red really exists.
Haven't seen "The Social Network" yet, but I've seen Mr. Sorkin interviewed about it several times, most recently, on CNN's Howard Kurtz's program. He answers all your concerns.
As for the rose garden line in "The American President," the Senator is absolutely right. However, it should be noted, the President only implied that he got the roses from his Rose Garden. Throughout the movie, buying flowers for Sydney was a problem for the Pres. He had made at least 2, maybe 3 attempts to order flowers for her, but always failed. No credit card the first time (on the phone); the florist's employee passed out when the president showed up in the shop. There may have been a 3rd effort, I don't recall. But that's what made his line "well, it turns out I have a Rose Garden" so funny. Well, cute, anyway. The implication is that he got the roses there, but in Jan., we know he didn't.
I'm also a fan of Rod Serling's writings, and was a big fan of his screenplay of "Seven Days in May." I theorize that Mr. Sorkin is also a fan since the name Jordan Lyman - the Pres. in Serling's screenplay - turned up in West Wing as Josh Lyman, senior advisor to the Pres.
Yours//Jerry
A few notes on today's post.
ReplyDeleteAs for the WALL reference, you left out a telling portion of the speech.
Jessep: Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me there.
It had nothing to do w/the Berlin Wall. It had nothing to do with the fence separating Gitmo from Cuba. It's a simple metaphor.
As for the "bluff," it too deserves greater explanation. While there was no doubt that Jessep ordered the Code Red, there was no reason to believe he would admit it in court. Indeed, he was about to be promoted to a spot on the NSC. Admitting to ordering a Code Red that turned into murder would be foolish. Add to the fact that Kaffee was in a precarious position in that he would be held in contempt for accusing Jessop of any crime if he couldn't prove it, and he really had no proof. So when Jessep blurted out "You're goddamn right I did," (order the Code Red), it was a shock. Jessop's arrogance betrayed him.
What is a bit out off the path is that the two defendants were convicted of conduct unbecoming a US Marine...and there is no such thing.
The story is based on an actual event. Sorkin's sister was a Navy lawyer who told him about the event. Talk to any number of Marines and you'll get conflicting opinions as to whether Code Red really exists.
Haven't seen "The Social Network" yet, but I've seen Mr. Sorkin interviewed about it several times, most recently, on CNN's Howard Kurtz's program. He answers all your concerns.
As for the rose garden line in "The American President," the Senator is absolutely right. However, it should be noted, the President only implied that he got the roses from his Rose Garden. Throughout the movie, buying flowers for Sydney was a problem for the Pres. He had made at least 2, maybe 3 attempts to order flowers for her, but always failed. No credit card the first time (on the phone); the florist's employee passed out when the president showed up in the shop. There may have been a 3rd effort, I don't recall. But that's what made his line "well, it turns out I have a Rose Garden" so funny. Well, cute, anyway. The implication is that he got the roses there, but in Jan., we know he didn't.
I'm also a fan of Rod Serling's writings, and was a big fan of his screenplay of "Seven Days in May." I theorize that Mr. Sorkin is also a fan since the name Jordan Lyman - the Pres. in Serling's screenplay - turned up in West Wing as Josh Lyman, senior advisor to the Pres.
Yours//Jerry
i agree, there is a certain preposterousness to sorkin's dialogue - and it's interesting that sorkin fans have no problem admitting same. i think 'the bluff' is a weakness in his writing, and we're willing to overlook it in favour of the 'smart and funny' he brings.
ReplyDeletei also agree with the previous comment about all sorkin characters having the same/similar voice, like woody allen - or robertson davies for that matter. we love entering the world of the author - can you tell the difference between voices in shakespeare? i can't, but rely on actors to make it work. that's the way it goes when yr creating a world of words for performance.
i'd like to point out - the velocity of words coupled with the smart, funny, and harsh/compassionate in sorkin - it reminds me of an unfolded oscar wilde; instead of reversals and inversions that wrap around a theme, sorkin just blasts straight ahead with the assumption that he'll hit on what he needs, and often does. it's not supposed to be pretty, or admirable, and i think because of that it resonates with us in the real world.
thanks earl