It made me think of a scenario in The Sopranos where Christopher Moltisanti is trying to write a screenplay.
"Been workin' my ass off on this movie script. You know how many pages I got? Nineteen."
Paulie:
That a lot? Or a little?
Christopher:
Books say a movie's supposed to be about a hundred and twenty pages.
(Paulie does that whistle - "Whew!" [So many pages, right?])
Christopher:
Got this fuckin' computer, I thought it would do a lot of it...
Paulie:
Dat writah - with the bullfights? Blew his own fuckin' head off.
Christopher:
I bought a scriptwritin' program and everything...
Paulie suggests that Christopher put away the writing, and the two of them go and visit a house of prostitution (in different wording).
Christopher:
You ever feel like nuttin' good was evah going to happen to You?
Paulie:
Yeah. And nuttin' did. So what? I'm alive. I'm survivin'...
Christopher:
That's it. I don't wanna just survive. Says in these movie-writing books that every character has an arc. Ya understand?
(Paulie shakes his head "no.")
Christopher:
Like everybody starts out somewheres. Then they do something - or somethin' gets done to them, changes their life. That's called their arc. Where's my arc?
----------------------------------------------------
The conversation goes on....
Chris's thinking is all over the place, here. He's trying to write a movie script, in which he thinks there should be "an arc." Then he's worrying aloud that he himself, in real life, has no arc.
He's ticked that even though he committed a murder for the Mafia, he isn't being promoted fast enough.
He thought if he bought the computer and the software program, the computer would "do a lot of it" - write the script for him.
He is consumed with impatience. His percolating frustration and anger sort of drives away his sense.
The scene is so evocative of a personality, and the guy's pain - it's alive.
It's tragic and funny at the same time.
For me, that's part of what makes good storytelling.
-30-
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