EOC 003: Interview with Shenita Moore, actress

actress headshot

Shenita’s headshot

In this episode of the podcast, I speak with actress Shenita Moore, who I met back in 2010 on the set of a short film that Shenita produced titled Queen Victoria’s Wedding. With over 15 years of experience in the industry, Shenita is a working actress with tons of invaluable insight. In this the take, we discuss:

  • How moving from city to city helped Shenita developed interpersonal skills that make her a better performer.
  • The difference between an agent and a manager.
  • Why moving to Los Angeles with like-minded people with similar goals is a great idea.
  • How little money you can make as an extra.
  • How a gig can pay your bills for five years!
  • Marilyn Monroe’s quote: “Hollywood is a place where they will pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss, and fifty cents for your soul.
  • Dorothy Parker’s quote: “Hollywood is the only place where you can die from encouragement.”

Check out the episode here:

 

Here’s Shenita’s acting reel:

 

Show Notes

Highlights

One of the most insightful things I heard from Shenita was about the circumstances under which she moved from Albuquerque to Los Angeles. I liked the story she shared because many of us are riddled with that dilemma: when should I move to Hollywood? For those who live outside of California or outside of the United States, moving to Hollywood is a big step, and one that deserves preparation. Quite often, that step comes with doubt and second guessing. Well, what Shenita did seems like sound strategy: she moved to Los Angeles with other actors and her manager.

Now, this may not always be possible for everyone, but it’s a worth a shot. Whether you want to be an actor, director, writer, producer, etc. who’s planning to move here, why not group up with others who have a similar goal. Your “team” can move together and try to break in the business together. You guys can watch each other’s back and help one another. I wish I had done that! I moved to Hollywood in 2008 all by myself and the process was painstaking. I definitely could have used some help. And now, more than the ever, the internet can really help you find people in your own state and country. Communities like Stage 32 and Facebook can connect you to other entertainment people. If you are moving here soon, give it a try!

Shenita Recommends

The must-read book Shenita recommended for us today was Self-Management for Actors: Getting Down to (Show) Business by casting director Bonnie Gillespie. Filled with tips and strategies to help actors succeed, this book has appeared in many lists as of one of the best books on acting ever. By the way, Bonnie is a guest of this show in the upcoming Take 6. Stay tuned to hear from Bonnie herself!

Let’s Talk About Marilyn

I looked up the quote by Marilyn Monroe: “Hollywood is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul.” It first appeared in Marilyn’s autobiography My Story. However, the book was published in 1974, 12 years after Marilyn’s tragic death. The website QuoteInvestigator deems the quote controversial due that fact that the book is a posthumous work. Here’s the longer context in which the quote appeared in the book:

In Hollywood a girl’s virtue is much less important than her hair-do. You’re judged by how you look, not by what you are. Hollywood’s a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss, and fifty cents for your soul. I know, because I turned down the first offer often enough and held out for the fifty cents.

 QuoteInvestigator concludes saying that the quote is probably not a complete fabrication, but a ghostwriter may have helped shape it.

In any event, the quote is still relevant and powerful. I stand by my interpretation: Hollywood is a place where your persona and the products you can offer are more valuable than you as a human. Read the fine print!

Agree, disagree? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Editing Basics

Editing is part of the post-production of a film. Usually, it begins immediately after principal photography, when all the shots are recorded. The resulting footage is given to the editor and his team. By then, the director’s favorite takes would be circled in the camera report, a document also given to the editor to help him choose the best takes.

Editing is the art of  assembling shots together to tell the visual story that is films. An editor is an important crew member in any film because he will give final shape to the project. They are called the third storytellers of a movie because, after the writer and director, the editor will construct (or de-construct) the narrative and truly define the story that audience will see.

Here is how Alfred Hitchcock explains some of the fundamentals of editing:

 

14535 Minutes of Footage

The job of an editor is much more than cutting and splicing footage. Walter Murch, the acclaimed Academy-Award winning editor and sound designer, whose body of work includes The English Patient (1996) and The Godfather (1972), opens his book In The Blink of An Eye by sharing his nightmarish experience while editing Apocalypse Now (1979).

In that picture, Murch faced an intimidating 95:1 ratio, meaning that for every minute of footage used in the final cut of the movie, there were 95 minutes not used.

Therefore, considering that Apocalypse Now’s theatrical release runs for 153 minutes, this means that the total footage was about 14535 minutes or 242 hours long! With that abnormally extravagant quantity of footage, Murch’s primary task of scrutinizing the footage to determine what worked and what didn’t was exponentially bigger. All editors go through this same process, but usually in a minor scale.

The Film Historian’s Insight

At the end of the 19th century, during cinema’s infancy, films had no cuts or editing whatsoever. The camera ran for as long as the film reel was. During screening, the 1-reel footage was shown in its entirety to a paying audience. Soon, viewers got bored. The static image was tedious.

Editing was the solution. Edgar S. Porter, an early film pioneer, experimented heavily on the two main principles of editing: ellipsis and cross cutting. Both techniques contributed for his achievements with the movies Life of an American Fireman (1903), The Great Train Robbery (1903) and Dream of the Rarebit Fiend (1906).

 Each frame counts. The addition or removal of one frame may break or make a scene, by supporting or shattering the illusion intended. Therefore, editors work diligently to maintain the viewers’ suspension of disbelief.

Quentin Tarantino on film editing:

“For a writer, it’s a word. For a composer or a musician, it’s a note. For an editor and a filmmaker, it’s the frames. The one frame off, or two frames added, or two frames less… it’s the difference between a sour note and a sweet note. It’s the difference between a clunky clumsy crap and orgasmic rhythm.”

Film editing determines pace and structure; it is a vital component to tell stories well.

What To Do To Be a Film Editor?

An editor has to have a good instinct for the length of each shot. As Tarantino mentioned, a few frames off can make a difference.

A great way to be aware of the length of shots is to watch a film you like on mute. Without sound and music to hide the cuts, you will get to experience each and every cut in a way you hadn’t before. And that’s important because cuts is what editors do. Also ask yourself why did the editor made a cut when he did it. What was he trying to convey or provoke? You will soon notice that a horror scene is cut differently from a humorous scene.

And remember: making the cut is easy. The hard part is knowing where the cut goes.

Because the editor is dealing with images and selecting the strongest footage, he also has to understand the basics of cinematography,  specifically shot sizes. Reaction shots, for instance, can make a scene stand out like it’s nobody’s business. It’s your job to know where to insert them, and for how long.

Additionally, an editor has to be computer savvy and incredibly organized. The computer is your primary editing tool, and you will be playing with programs, codecs, file formats, and plugins to obtain your desired effects.

Two books I would recommend for you are: In the Blink of An Eye and Some Cutting Remarks. Both are from professional editors who have worked in the golden years of Hollywood. But Murch’s is my favorite because his essays on why cuts work and other topics are still relevant today.

The Cutting Edge

Here’s a great documentary about film editing. It’s over an hour long, but it’s quite insightful:

One of my favorite takeaways from the film is when Steven Spielberg explains the disagreements he had with his editor, Verna Fields, during the post-production of Jaws. While Spielberg wanted to extended shots with the shark, Fields was in favor of shortening anything with the beast. Ultimately, Spielberg agreed that Fields was right. The point here is how directors can have their minds clouded by working on the set. Spielberg had invested so much time and effort on the shark that he wanted more screen time for it. But for the editor, none of that matters. What matters is the end product because that’s what the audience will see.

THEME: What Ties it All Together

If plot is what’s on the surface of a film, easily visible to the audience, then the theme is what’s under the surface… kinda hidden like a secret gem, waiting to be uncovered. Themes are sometimes called a life lesson or a message, and the best ones are always subtle.

Some authors claim that themes are one word long:


“The theme of a story is the aspect of the ‘human dilemma’ that it will explore. Betrayal, loyalty, self-worth, ambition, jealousy, hypocrisy, obsession, alienation — these are all valid themes that could explore. Note that there are no verbs involved, no value judgements inherent in potential themes. Something like “love conquers all” or “jealousy destroys from the inside” is a value-charged thesis rather than a theme.” – David Howard, author of How to Build a Great Screenplay: A Master Class in Storytelling for Film

While other authors argue that themes could be a sentence long:

“WITNESS has a point of view. Love cannot bridge the gap of two different worlds. In THE AFRICAN QUEEN, the opposite is true. Love can bridge the gap of two different worlds. […]  The message in CHINATOWN is this: You can get away with murder if you have enough money.”- David Trottier, author of The Screenwriter’s Bible: A Complete Guide to Writing, Formatting, and Selling Your Script.

Though these two writers define theme differently, their interpretations are still pretty similar. Notice how Trottier’s examples still have  thematic words like “love” and “money” that  define what the movie is about. And regardless of what you call it, your film will always have a moral and a message. The important thing is that you know what you are trying to convey with your film, so that you can be consistent and effective.

However,  Trottier urges your caution: “This moral is not a sermon and it is not preached. Often, you don’t know that this moral or message is when you start scripting your story. Not to worry – you’ll know before you’re through. Just keep writing. CAUTION: There is a danger in focusing on the movie message. You run the risk of writing a preachy script.”

And on this  point both writers agree. Howard calls it a “thesis” and you don’t wanna bang your audience’s head too much with it. They paid $20 for entertainment, not a sermon.

Theme is NOT the Same as Conflict!

I wanted to make a special mention of this because I have seen many professors and publications make this error. If you ask someone for an example of a theme, they might answer: “Man vs. Nature” or “Man vs. Himself.” In my opinion, these are not themes but types of conflict. Types of conflict are the framework for any plot, but they are different from the theme. Below are the four most famous types of conflict:

  • Man vs. Man (Dirty Harry, The Terminator, Witness)
  • Man vs. Himself. (Finding Forrester, The Truman Show)
  • Man vs. Nature (Dante’s Peak, Noah)
  • Man vs. Society (High Noon, Milk)

Some of these overlap. High Noon, for instance, is both a Man vs. Society and a Man vs. Man kind of plot.

Theme as Unity

Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window (1954) tells the story of a handicap photographer (James Stewart) who suspects a murder has happened in his apartment complex after noticing abnormal events unfold from his living room window. This is the forefront of the movie; its plot. Nobody gets out of the theater not knowing that.

The theme, however, is subtle. Most people that have watched Rear Window may or may not have grasped what its theme is. Since themes are delicate and subjective, scholars and critics may occasionally debate. But I think that in Rear Window, the prominent theme is relationship. Even more so than romance because romance implies good moments. But relationship also contains the nitty-gritty stuff: arguments, despair, and solitude.

In Rear Window, the apparently disjointed string of events is held together through this theme, which furnishes it with unity.

The romance between Jeff and Lisa (Grace Kelly) is too obvious an example, but even a superficial analysis of some of the neighbors is enough to elaborate the underlying relationship theme:

  • In the beginning of the movie, a newlywed couple moves into an apartment. All joy. Blinds drawn implies a honeymoon in progress. But as the story unfolds, their marriage deteriorates.
  • Miss Torso, a lovely ballet dancer, is often “doing a woman’s hardest job: juggling wolves.” With so many suitors, her options are plenty, though she often dismisses them all.
  • Mrs. Lonelyhearts is an old, single woman who seemingly failed to attract a man into wedlock during her prime years. Clearly disturbed, she hosts dinners for two even though no one joins her. Alone, she addresses an invisible man, product of her imagination, with whom she dines.

Clearly all these side characters and sub-plots were created to develop the theme. Furthermore, the heart of the plot – the murder – also draws a parallel to it, as one of the possible causes for the assassination was the bitter relationship in which the murderer and his victim lived in.

Theme as a Lesson

Besides providing unity and tying the story together, theme can also exist to send a message or teach a lesson to the audience. In the 2009 movie (500) Days of Summer, one of the lessons expressed is: if someone wants love, then they need to take action and chase it.

500-days-of-summer

Like in Rear Window, one of the themes in (500) Days of Summer is relationship.

From the beginning, the movie builds this lesson until it’s clearly stated in the ending: “Love doesn’t just happen.” This concept also illustrates the main character’s arc. At the movie’s beginning, Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is the type of guy who waits for love instead of making it happen. At the end, Tom finally takes action and is rewarded.

A Little Trivia

“If you have a message, call Western Union” is a famous sentence sometimes quoted by producers to express their disdain for  themes or messages or lessons in the movies. Some producers simply don’t like to talk about it because it’s too brainy.

The quote is often misattributed to the famous producer Samuel Goldwyn (The Best Years of Our Lives, Guys and Dolls), but there’s no consensus as to who said it first.

I wish I would know how most producers, directors, and writers approach the idea of theme. Is that a priority in their movies? Or do they just allow a theme to emerge as the story progresses?

Do you agree with the themes and lessons above? Or could (500) Days of Summer be about something else? What about Rear Window? As I mentioned, themes are subjective and open for interpretation. I would love to hear your thoughts below.

 

The Three-Act Structure

steve spielberg quote

The 3-act structure is an old principle widely adhered to in storytelling today. It can be found in plays, poetry, novels, comic books, short stories, video games, and the movies. It was present in the novels of Conan Doyle, the plays of Shakespeare, the fables of Aesop, the poetry of Aristotle, and the films of Hitchcock. It’s older than Greek dramaturgy. Hollywood and Broadway use it well. It’s irrefutable and bullet-proof, so to speak.

Though quite simple, the 3-act structure has proven to be a valuable weapon in the arsenal of any screenwriter. Yes, there are alternatives to telling a story. But the 3-act structure is a highly accepted and greatly successful method.

In a nutshell, the 3 acts are labeled as:

Act I: Setup

Act II: Confrontation

Act III: Resolution

Some people like to call them beginning, middle, and end, which is not inaccurate. The point of the acts is to make sure that the story evolves and the stakes get higher.

3 act structure

All acts have their own sets of guidelines and rules that make the foundation of story development. The next sections will go over the differences of one act and the other, plus the obvious and the obscure dos and don’ts of the craft.

Spoiler Alert: The following sections contain story spoilers, used here to illustrate the concept at hand.

Act I: The Setup

The first act is where all the major characters of the story are introduced, plus the world where they live in, and the conflict that will move the story forward. In Act I, the writer has the freedom to create any setting and reality that he so wishes. It’s in the first pages of the script that he defines the reasoning and logic of the story. This early in the script, anything is possible.

The story may happen in the distant future or long time ago in a galaxy far far away. It may take place in downtown New York or in an African jungle. The first act also establishes genre. It may be a drama about a widow that struggles to re-encounter love, or a suspense about a young trainee summoned out of the FBI academy in a special assignment to interview a dangerous psychopath.

The writer may even distort reality or create his own. Toy Story (1995) opens with a young boy, Andy, playing with his toys. As soon as Andy exits the bedroom, leaving the place unsupervised, his toys promptly gain life. Yet we don’t frown or disapprove of it. At the movie’s very beginning, the audience has their mind open for practically anything. As the movie progresses, the viewer unconsciously forms a frame for the story, and their suspension of disbelief narrows, limiting what they will accept as plausible and congruent.

Ideally, your main character can never be lucky further down in the script. But while the story is introduced, this gimmick is acceptable if done right. In Three Days of the Condor (1975), CIA employee Joseph Turner (Robert Redford) survives a massacre that kills all of his colleagues while he steps out of the office to get lunch. In Dances With Wolves (1991), Lieutenant John J. Dunbar (Kevin Costner), learning that he must have his injured leg amputated, decides to commit suicide. He steals a cavalry horse and runs it into the infantry of the Confederate army. In doing so, he incites his fellow Union soldiers to rally, which leads to an unexpected victory. His plan to die fails, but he becomes a hero.

Act I must also present a strong hook – an exciting scene early in the script that grabs the audience’s interest and hooks them. Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) starts with an action-packed, attention-grabbing sequence that introduces Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) performing acrobatic stunts while penetrating a cave and lost temples to find a valuable artifact.

Part of that hook is the inciting incident that takes place somewhere in the beginning of Act I. This inciting incident often provokes a change in the protagonist’s routine – something new they experience that could either challenge or encourage them. In The Silence of the Lambs (1991), FBI trainee Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) meets with Dr. Hannibal “the Cannibal” Lecter (Anthony Hopkins). The confrontation of both parties is nerve-wracking.

Act I ends with the first plot point of the movie. In Thelma & Louise (1991), Plot Point I happens when Louise shoots dead a man who was on the verge of raping Thelma. This action completely changes the course of the story . Thelma and Louise were up until now just trying to have some off-time away from their tedious lives. But when Thelma kills that guy, they become criminals. Quickly, the police are brought into the picture.

Act II: Confrontation

The second act is by far the longest, encompassing half of the movie and taking place between the first and third acts. For some screenwriters, Act II is the hardest one to squeeze out. This happens because after the initial boost of a new story, the writer is left without plot elements to introduce. The story, its characters and conflict are all established. At this point, the writer has created a solid frame for his narrative. Yet he’s still roughly sixty pages away from the ending.

With so many blank pages remaining, the writer faces the challenge of keeping the story moving forward and not boring the audience. One device to accomplish this feat is the creation of subplot. The subplot is a minor story layered under the main narrative. It often adds a three-dimensionality aspect to the characters by allowing them to engage in a behavior that is not necessarily connected to the main plot, but still relevant in the overall narrative and often linked to a central theme.

In Peter Weir’s Witness (1985), the main storyline follows Philadelphia policeman John Book (Harrison Ford), as he investigates the assassination of a fellow police officer. His only witness is an Amish boy (Lukas Haas), who saw the murder happen at a train station restroom in the big city. When Officer Book discovers that someone from his own precinct ordered the killing, his life is in danger, and, after being shot, he runs away to the Amish countryside of Lancaster. During the second act of Witness, John Book and Amish widow Rachel Lapp (Kelly McGillis) engage in a brief courtship that fails to evolve into an affair. Also during Act II, Book befriends many members of the Amish community – an event that foreshadows the resolution in Act III, when the community comes to Book’s rescue .

As epitomized in Witness, the second act may be a moment in which the hero leaves his comfort zone, which fuels the writer with another set of possibilities. In The Lion King (1994), after Mufasa dies, Simba runs away. Timon and Pumbaa save him from the desert, and Simba has to live in the Jungle, eating bugs and beetles! During Act II in Toy Story, while Andy’s mom’s fills up her vehicle, Woody leaps out of the car in order to rescue Buzz. But before Woody can convince Buzz to climb back in the car, Andy and his mom take off, leaving Buzz and Woody stranded in the gas station. Before the movie’s resolution, the two toys find themselves into an even worse setting – Sid’s creepy bedroom.

In the second act, the stakes escalate. If the hero is “on the fence” or confused about what he should do, then something must happen by the midpoint of the script to make his goal clear. In Thelma & Louise, the two protagonists realize that, with the police on their tail, they cannot return home and live a normal life. They have to keep driving towards Mexico.

A pivotal element of this escalation inherent to Act II is Plot Point II, which catapults the story into the third and final act. Much like Plot Point I, Plot Point II also affects the main character by changing the direction he’s headed. The difference is that the stakes are much higher. This is often a moment of crisis, in which all hope seems lost.

       

Act III: Resolution

The last act, Act III presents the final confrontation of the movie, followed by the denouement. This act is usually the shortest in length because quickly after the second turning point of the script, the main character is face to face with the villain or just about. Showdown ensues and then conclusion.

In The Silence of the Lambs, the third act kicks off when Agent Starling enters the house of Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine), the criminal who she’s been trying to find. This moment is tension-packed because little does Starling know the identity of the man that’s welcoming her. When Starling finally finds out, she’s inside the serial killer’s domain and unable to call for back-up.

As illustrated by The Silence of the Lambs, Act III contains a moment often labeled as mandatory – the confrontation between hero and villain, the clash between good and evil, a duel. In the moment that Clarice Starling walks into Buffalo Bill’s house, the writer fulfills a promise made by him in the first act, when he set up those two opposing forces.

The spectators are smart, so don’t underestimate them. Whenever the writer establishes a prince, a princess, and a dragon, the audience will urge for a confrontation in which the prince slays the dragon to rescue the princess (like in Sleeping Beauty). You can always tweak the formula (like in Enchanted), but if the dragon is not dead by the end of the film, your audience will walk out dissatisfied, even if they can’t pinpoint the reason.

The third act is also when the writer ties up any loose ends and offers a resolution to the subplots. In Witness, the third act takes off when the corrupt cops find John Book hidden in the Amish community. The mandatory confrontation between the opposing forces takes place, and then Book and Rachel meet. Both have to make a choice. Either Book stays to be with Rachel or Rachel leaves to be with Book.

In the final moments of Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane, the audience learns what “rosebud” means – a questions asked in the first act.

The resolution can also give extra information for a more elaborate character arc. In Titanic (1997), after revealing what happened to the Heart of the Ocean, we cut to Old Rose’ bedroom. The movement of the camera shows her nightstand with photos of adventures she did when young – promises kept to Jack.

Although I consider the three acts to be an essential element to many films, there are many professionals out there who disagree. I share some of my reservations about the three-act structure on this post:
In it I mention a few pitfalls that writers make and how to avoid them, so if you are serious about being a screenwriter, I highly recommend you give it a read.

 

Screenwriting Basics

Humans have an almost unreasonable and insatiable craving for stories. They surround us night and day, every day of the week. The stories. At home, work, school, parties, malls, diners… People are always narrating and listening to anecdotes and chronicles. It may be something as notorious as the Madoff scandal or as trivial as a mean cab driver who refused to give the right change. Regardless of their nature, relevance, or truthfulness, stories have permeated society. And we love them. Movies tell stories, so we love them as well.

In filmmaking, the story is first developed in the screenplay. Every movie, short or feature, starts with a script – the blueprint for the construction of the motion picture. The screenplay furnishes the framework for every movie production; it is the basis for the decisions made from the early stages of pre-production to the final phase of post-production.

The Process

Writing a screenplay is no easy task, especially features. Those blank sheets of paper are intimidating. Characters, locations, plot, genres… The variables are one too many.

Attempting to follow a current trend is usually a big mistake and a waste of time. Today’s gold is tomorrow’s trash. Plus, after you take the time to write and sell it, the producers will take from several months to a few years to actually finish the movie. By then, there will be another demand in town.

If you have an original story that is remarkably executed, buyers will come sooner or later. Rule #1 is to be true to yourself. Don’t write a screenplay because you think it will sell, and you need money. Write it because you love the story and characters. Write it because you want to entertain or instruct or move an audience.

The Rules

Screenwriting has no hard and fast rules, not even the one mentioned above, so ignore it if you want. Writing for the screen is a subjective craft in which anything might work, but probably nothing will. William Goldman said: “Nobody knows anything.” That is the greatest truth in the business.

However, in the absence of rules, we’re left with the norm – a set of guidelines that has proved valuable and efficient throughout the years of filmmaking. The main concepts to fathom are: the 3-act structure and character arc. Those two are standard in the industry, followed practically by every movie, both commercial and independent. Another nugget of knowledge is high-concept, though those are much rarer to find.

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