My housemate received a similar e-mail several weeks ago, but mine just came yesterday: Netflix is reducing the price of the service I have through them.  This is the same company that recently activated monthly hours of free online movie watching.

Sure, I get that their motivation is all about competing with Blockbuster, even if it risks their stock price.  But from my corner of the world, it comes down to a company I already loved giving me more stuff and charging me less for it.  At this point, I’m not sure my brand loyalty could be harmed by anything short of learning they use Eskimo slave labor to process the DVDs, in a factory that runs on kitten grease.

Tonight I caught Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, a do-over from attempting to see it on Friday, which outing was ruined by a melted IMAX film. I’m so glad I saw this movie. Enough people have accused me of being unable to suspend disbelief recently, as I’ve vocally expressed my distaste for Transformers. A small corner of my mind was afraid maybe I had, in fact, lost touch with the common audience member. Perhaps I don’t know how to appreciate spectacle, and let myself go, be swallowed up in a movie.

Nope.

It’s just that Transformers sucks. That’s all.  Plenty of stuff blew up in HP5. There was much spectacle to be had (especially for those of us who saw it on the huge screen, with the third reel in 3-D…) And not once did the visual splendor come at the price of sacrificed plot.

[…teeny-tiny spoiler warning…] If you wish to know nothing, turn away now.

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For some reason, my My Name Is Earl spec has been giving me all kinds of problems.  It’s been the top priority for me, writing-wise, for weeks now, and I’m nowhere.  Haven’t been able to break the story.  This normally doesn’t happen to me.  Normally I get an idea, then I watch the show over and over (and over) and some day in the shower inspiration will hit.  This time around I had an idea, I’ve watched every episode at least three times, but no breakthroughs, though I am showering regularly.

It’s getting to be a problem, since I’m not reading Harry Potter 7 until I’m done, and all around me people seem to want to talk about the new book.  Today in a Jamba Juice, a couple came in, each with a copy in hand.  He had the dust-jacket marking his place several hundred pages in, and she was starting the first chapter as she waited for her smoothie.  People looking at me must have thought me a bit off, but when she turned to him and said, “You know, Harry seems to–” I had my fingers in my ears chanting “la la la” so fast…  Thank goodness for all the blender noise.

I’m not having problems with writing in general.  After Friday’s meeting of the comedy group’s writer core, from which we left with the homework to write a two-page sketch in the next week, I had my script written less than an hour after everyone left.  And a couple of weeks ago, a new collaborator friend up in the Bay Area (who I know subscribes to this blog via e-mail… Hi, Peggy!) asked for some spec commercial scripts I was able to knock out three decent ideas in one sitting.

It’s just Earl.

A smart man would go work on another project.  I have a smart romantic comedy feature with a high-concept pitch that a writing partner and I seem to keep as our perennial second priority.  Plus there’s a half-written feature that representation-types have said they want to see when it’s done.  But I want to write television, and I feel guilty when I spend time on features.  (Although I was thinking of going to Comic-Con this weekend to do research for the second one, but couldn’t work out the logistics until Saturday was already sold out.  If anyone has leads on tickets…)

A smart man might also pick a different show to spec.  Plus, I’m trying something with a high degree of difficulty.  A smart man might rethink his premise.

I, it would seem, am not a smart man.  Off to go “work” on my script some more.

I had Harry Potter tickets for last night, and was really looking forward to seeing film number five. Leading up to the release of a Harry Potter book, it has always been my tradition to re-read the preceding books, or at least the preceding several. This time around I opted to watch all the movies, and then I’ll read #6 and eventually #7 (but only after I finish my Earl spec…) It’s getting harder and harder to avoid Harry Potter headlines. I want to know NOTHING! I just logged out of my personalized google homepage, because every other entertainment news headline seems to want to spoil the ending for me. I guess I’ll spend the next month ignorant of happenings in the world. So be it.

Anyway, the tickets for last night were for the last IMAX screening of the evening. Huge screen, fewer kids. But when we got there, “technical difficulties” meant they had to refund everyone’s money. Sigh. One of the theater workers told us that the film was ruined. Like, I guess it all melted. On the plus side, my housemate and I got our money back plus free tickets to see it again later. And after all, I’m supposed to be writing, anyway.

In other news, things are moving along with the comedy group. Yesterday was the first meeting of the writing staff, and I’m pretty pleased. I spent a long, long time hand-picking a combination of people I thought would resonate together creatively, and it seems like that worked nicely. Any evening that includes comparisons of different Cohen Brothers movies and analysis of U.S. vs. U.K. versions of The Office tells me that I’m in the right room.

So I’m one step closer to global domination. Through comedy. Now I just need a name for the damned thing.

There’s a rule of thumb in which I’ve always believed:  if you are writing a story in which a protagonist is an artist (of any kind,) you should never ever show the artwork your character is making.  Maybe, if the artist is supposed to be bad, you show a sample of his work, probably as a joke.  Maybe you show tiny pieces of a good artist’s work, but not the complete artwork.  The moment we see that charcoal sketch our artist has been creating (on which the artist no doubt is sketching a few last lines, without making any marks) the illusion is over.  But if the story calls for an artist’s work to be genuinely good, the characters will say so, and our imaginations will do a better job of filling in the blanks than showing us could have done.

It’s the one thing in a script you talk about, instead of showing.

So when the last episode of Entourage included a trailer for the fake Medellin movie, my instincts screamed, “bad idea!”  This was especially so given that this season’s story promises that the trailer is good enough to sell the movie, all by itself.  Heck, they already broke their illusion for me a little bit by showing Vinnie Chase acting.  When everyone SAID he was a great star, I believed it.  When Adrien Grenier assumed the role of Pablo Escobar, my belief was hurt a bit.

In the end though, it was a great trailer.  It actually made me want to see the movie.  I guess every rule is meant to be broken.

Also, bonus points to the show’s creatives for naming the site medellinthefilm, as opposed to medllinthemovie