Alex Gibney: A Year in Pictures

by Matt



In 2005, director Alex Gibney released what might be the best expose ever put to film. Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room tamed the convoluted technical data of the Enron collapse and painted a detailed portrait of corruption run rampant in a deregulated economy. It was nominated for an Oscar, is required viewing in most business schools, and is pretty much the only thing on CNBC anymore.¹ In 2008, he continued his legacy for political muckraking with the Oscar-winning Taxi to the Dark Side, which explored torture policies of POWs, and Gonzo, a biography of controversial writer Hunter Thompson. Gibney's films combine an investigative journalist's attention to detail with the frenetic energy and great storytelling sensibilities of someone like Martin Scorsese.

Flash forward another two years to the present day. 2010 is a year of severe political unrest in the United States. Citizens are furious to find themselves at the mercy of gamblers on Wall Street and twice as furious that politicians seek to put a stop to this. Campaign ads rule the airways, 3D rules the theaters, and Gibney returns to the screens with enough great films to populate the entire filmography of a great documentarian, all in the span of a few months.

Casino Jack & The United States of Money

------Original Message------
From: Jack Abramoff (Dir-DC-GOV)
Subject: re
...
Why would you want to make a documentary?
No one watches documentaries. You should make an action film!

These opening titles from Gibney's biography of the criminal lobbyist Jack Abramoff are not only wise words (are more people going to see Superman Returnsor Waiting for Superman?), but they tie together many themes and motifs in the film. Abramoff used to produce films to promote African rebel groups, starting with documentaries before abandoning them in favor of action-packed morality tales starring Dolph Lundgren. He incriminated himself with snarky emails about his exploitation of Indian reservations. Wearing a black trench coat and fedora to his indictment, he seemed to eagerly assume the role of villain in the ensuing media frenzy. The hearing was conducted by many of the legislators he'd personally gotten elected.

Casino Jack shines a powerful spotlight into the shadowy realities of so-called "free markets." Libertarian ideals are personified by the island commonwealth of Saipan, whose paper-thin economy Abramoff helped establish. As the film recounts the email exchanges between Abramoff and his associates, I couldn't help but think back to the traders' shocking candor about robbing elderly Californians in The Smartest Guys in the Room.

Casino Jack is equal parts political muckraking and character study, but Abramoff is only a part of that character. Gibney places the entire Reagan-era politic under scrutiny, considering its roots as a rebellion against rebellion following 1960s hippie counterculture. Gibney utilizes an upbeat soundtrack and old movie clips to build his trademark energy, which makes the film play like... well, an action movie.

My Trip to Al-Qaeda

They say hindsight is 20-20. It's easy to look back over the past decade and spot mistakes and warnings of government corruption, but I think journalist Lawrence Wright earned the right to shoot off his mouth. "It was all so predictable," he disdainfully remarks about American use of torture in the wake of terrorist attacks. He penned the 1998 Edward Zwick thriller The Siege, about American human rights violations in the wake of terrorist attacks.

With the possible exception of Robert MacNamera in The Fog of War, I don't think I've ever seen a more fascinating subject of a documentary. Rather than a standard interview format, Wright tells his story via a one-man show. He stands in a dark room, empty save for a cluttered office desk and video screen, which shows illustrative footage such as news clips and interviews. This format achieves an intimacy rare to film, as if we're watching the world from a Cartesian control room within his brain.

He talks about how The Siege sparked controversy in the Muslim world which led to the bombing of a Planet Hollywood in South Africa, and he talks about the book it inspired him to write. "I'm not responsible for the terror; I know that. But people perished who would be alive if I had not written that movie. A little girl would be skipping down the sidewalk in Kensington. That bomb in Cape Town was really aimed at me, at my imagination. And I needed to know why."

His research leads him to the Middle East, where he meets terrorists and befriends Osama bin Laden's brother-in-law. It pays off, winning him a Pulitzer Prize, but it puts him in an uneasy place, torn between ideals journalistic objectivity and his hatred for the jihadists. How would you act during an interview with bin Laden?

During his travels, though, an even more sinister tower looms. The hypothetical martial law policies of The Siege begin to come to fruition. Suspects are captured and tortured without trial. Wright himself becomes victim of an illegal wiretapping. And worst of all, this was exactly what Al-Qaeda had planned, to drive a wedge between Islam and the West and exploit it in a public relations war most Americans didn't even know was being waged.

Freakonomics: "Pure Corruption"

Freakonomics isn't a very good film. I'd probably describe it as the Four Rooms of non-fiction, but the typical problems with anthologies are actually severely aggravated here. The four films not only cover the an entire spectrum of quality, but there is absolutely no attempt to reconcile these diverse creative visions. Four Rooms was at least cohesive, and it built up momentum as it went along. Freakonomics, despite some good installments and interesting topics, feels haphazardly pasted together.

It's almost a shame that anthology films often house some of the best short films around, and this one is no exception. The cream of the crop, as you might have predicted, is Gibney's film "Pure Corruption," which offers a cursory study of cheaters at sumo wrestling.

It shouldn't happen. Sumo is a sacred ritual within the Shinto faith, a means to cleanse oneself of evil (or something like that; I said it was cursory), practiced in one of the least corrupt nations in the developed world, yet Gibney's film reveals some shocking info about what goes on behind the scenes, typifying a pattern of repression in many parts of Japanese society, leaving wounds to fester away at the inside. As always, incentives play an important role, and I find it somewhat gratuitous that Gibney felt the need to spell out its economic allegory.

But this isn't just a film about profit margins. It's big picture about big men in loincloths, both mentally and physically. The sumo footage used to highlight the talking heads brings a visceral quality to this tale of dishonesty and murder.

Client 9: The Rise of Eliot Spitzer

There seem to be two key virtues to most of Gibney's work. First, his ability to distill complex chains of causation (money-laundering, covert torture, or the birth of a social movement) to a simple essence, so that laymen like myself can actually make sense of them. Second, his Errol-Morris-esque combination of interviews, imagery, and music to create an intimate sense of his subject's worldview. These skill sets are perfectly suited to the story of Eliot Spitzer's fall from grace, which makes it all the more disappointing that Client 9 seems so uneven.

Maybe this is one case where reality is blander than fiction, but I still have no sense of why Spitzer - a vigilante attorney general and governor, notorious for his intolerance for corruption - would so betray his own virtues and destroy his political career for the sake of chasing tail. Despite his use of interrotron in the Spitzer interviews (a new technique for Gibney), the disgraced politician remains at a distance. Instead of a straightforward telling of his experiences, it becomes a convoluted web of prostitution business models and conspiracy theories.² When films like The Smartest Guys in the Room and Casino Jack balance the technical and personal elements with grace and ease, Client 9 seems much too grounded in hard data.

But don't get the wrong idea. This is still a worthy addition to any filmmaker's canon. Despite never really cracking Spitzer's surface, his interviews are weirdly fascinating. The interrotron offers a greater appreciation for his vulnerability speaking about his periods of weakness. He tries to frame his story as a Hollywood cliche and repeats the word "hubrus" like a broken record. He wants to be forthright, but he navigates the waters carefully. Can't say I blame him, after what he went through. When you can't even justify your actions to yourself, it's difficult to do so to strangers.

The supporting cast is another story entirely. Spitzer's enemies take great joy in sharing their deep-seeded hatred for him. Their rhetoric transcends exaggeration into downright eccentricity, not unlike the subject of a previous Gibney biography, Hunter S. Thompson. (A PR man hired to discredit Spitzer even invokes the "gonzo brand of journalism.") Spitzer apparently had his own brand of extreme rhetoric when speaking privately, recalling the aggressive banter of cowboy and cop movies.

His associates in the sex industry tell a different story, largely apathetic to his policies. (Perhaps they don't know about the prostitution rings he'd personally busted as attorney general.) His most frequent companion wished to remain anonymous. Rather than just place her in silhouette or blur out her face, Gibney transcribed her interview and hired an actress to recite it. It's an inspired gimmick, one of many touches that give the film a more playful quality, even as it weighs itself down by trying to about more than it is.

The Takeaway

Alex Gibney might be the first auteur of journalism. More than simple education, he's one of a few voices in modern non-fiction to see facts as a tool for deeper truths. Be it about economics, politics, crime, or all of the above, he trains his lens on individuals who define themselves and the world through the media's skewed reflection. It shapes nations and consumes those who gaze too hard.

As the polls close and the new generation of campaigns begin, you might find a little perspective from his films. A picture is worth a thousand words, and I can think of few greater authors on the subject. In a year when documentaries are flourishing in all the theaters no one attends, Gibney has shown himself a cut above most of the competition.


¹ It also was one of the principle sources in college paper which I wrote. The teacher noted that mine was the best in the class. My mother was so proud as, I'm sure, was Gibney's.

² I'm not disputing that there was a political element to the Spitzer investigation (the circumstantial evidence is persuasive, though not enough to draw any definite conclusions), but considering that Spitzer admits to everything, I think the film ascribes too much relevance to it.









Did I mention his films feature music from Tom Waits and Gorillaz?

a few brief notes, maybe more, and maybe SPOILERS, on CATFISH

Hey guys, Jack here.

Ok, so I just went through three days at Comic-Con, and I'm near ready to drop the noggin on the keyboard, but my mind keep racing around about something that I need to get out. Luckily my fingers type fast enough that I can keep going in time.

So what is this all about? Ah yes, one of the current talks of the (sorta) independent movie scene: the documentary(?) Catfish. Some of you may have heard of it, possibly from trailers shown at cineplexes. I mention the 'sorta' before as it's released by Universal pictures (albeit not yet really wide as one might think, and it hasn't made the extraordinary Paranormal Activity numbers as a micro-budgeted movie so go figure). And I add the question mark there as there is some question- not least of which by good friend and fellow Creatively Stumped podcaster Matt- that the whole thing was staged, everybody was actors, and that the website the directors have, which primarily focuses on commercials, indicates they have the technical know-how and efficiency to pull this off. This, though it should be noted, despite the fact that it's their first feature film (co-directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman, the former has some jazz piece done more recently than Catfish, the latter a comedy short), and that in interviews, such as the one HERE, they say It's All True, and weren't thinking about it while making it.

I should note up front that the film is enormously absorbing as a tale of human connectivity in the modern world. This, I should also add, reveals misdirection (intentional or not) on the end of the studio with its ads and approach hyping up the surprise reveal of the two directors and Schulman's brother, Yanev, the main "character", going up to the farm house that they've tracked down where Yanev's facebook girlfriend Meg is supposedly at.  I have to think this was purely marketing, or at the least that the filmmakers wanted to get the film sold best way they could even if that meant adding a "The Best Hitchcock Film Hitchcock Never Made" moniker on the front (and really, that's such an over-done kind of critical praise - and if they had to do that for any movie out now, why not Buried, another Sundance favorite?)

Perhaps there is something askew with my cognitive capabilities, or perhaps there is something about me that is easily deceivable if the material is emotionally resonant and true enough.  But the way the film is presented, along with the interviews with the directors, give me the impression that it did all happen the way it did.  There's the speculation (again, Matt) that it was acted and staged, and meant to look like a Doc.  Maybe he, like I, should know this well; the both of us have worked in various capacities as camera-people, crew, and directors on a feature film, Zack and Michael, and Lines of Glory, a short film, both toying with the idea of the actors as "actors" and not playing themselves.  What's tricky is how Catfish falls into another kind of category along the lines of the "fake"documentary that Joost refers to in the interview.  Catfish may, to the doubters, be more in line with other movies that have come out this year: Exit Through the Gift Shop, where one doubts if Thierry Guetta even exists as an artist and is a hoax by the graffiti maker and jolly prankster Banksy, and I'm Still Here, the volatile tome of celebrity gone awry by Joaqun Phoenix and Casey Affleck.

At time of this blog going live, Banksy hasn't revealed either way (I can only imagine Banksy, ala Machete, saying "Banksy don't interview" and leaving the mystery, if there even is a mystery, at that), and Phoenix and Affleck, perhaps too soon, have shown their hand, ironically after so much time where most of the people going into seeing the film already *knew* that it wasn't for real.  Maybe there's a whole new sub-category to be put in this year: the "Faux-Real" movie (to sort of borrow a movie title from a trailer done by my friend Fred Henry).  In these terms, I'm Still Here is the least of the lot, having some amazing moments but flailing as a satire as it's not very funny, more of a "performance art" piece.  Bansky's film is the most entertaining, maybe the one I look forward to most rewatching again and again on DVD, as it works as a kind of triumph-of-the-will (not to be confused with Hitler) story of art and ego and the process itself becoming a kind of too-good-to-not-be-true saga.  But Catfish is a little trickier.  So tricky that I have to go out on the limb I am going on and considering, if only on a first glance, that the only things "staged" are the graphics and some close-ups, which are done on most documentaries.

One could go on and on about what is actually "real" in any documentary really; certainly no two directors have challenged that methodology like Werner Herzog and Errol Morris, who take real people and situations and leap off into other plateaus.  With Catfish it's a tale of human beings caught up in the realm of technology.  As a personal aside I know this kind of thing first-hand as in the years, eons ago it seems before I met my wife, I had an internet-based relationship where I didn't even see a picture of my supposed girlfriend.  Finally meeting it was a disappointment, though we still went out for two more years until I fully realized the situation that we really had nothing in common and I wasn't attracted to her.  There wasn't a facade, except, perhaps, the one I put up for so long caring about this unnamed woman (perhaps if you are reading this you know who you are).  As I can also relate to a specific moment in the film, writing out something by hand- as I did, ultimately, as a break-up letter- takes on a whole new significance.

But where was I?  The film, right right.  These filmmakers start innocently enough charting what's going on with Schulman's almost-all-smiles brother 'Nev', who takes a picture of two dancers in a dramatic pose and then a painter does a recreation of it and mails it to Nev.  This strikes up a facebook friendship, and she seems amiable enough.  Then Nev 'friends' daughters Abby and Megan, the latter of which Nev becomes a little more closer with, both on facebook and on the phone.  They send message after message to one another, and Meg sends Nev some songs she sings.  Abby is the one, supposedly, doing these paintings, and is something of a child prodigy (maybe not My Kid Could Paint That, but close enough).  But then something strikes up Nev's curiosity - a song Megan sends, a cover of a 'horse' song Tennessee Stud, sounds a little too familiar.  Turns out it's really just a song she got off of youtube.  This after she received the compliments from him.

Something's not right in Denmark and, ultimately, after realizing so much adds up as bullshit (i.e. the gallery where Abby's paintings are being put up is really an empty warehouse, and Abby doesn't have any paintings online).  Finally the Schulman brothers and Joost go off to Michigan to find the real details - that it's really (spoiler) one woman behind the whole shebang, Abby isn't a painter, and the woman, Angela, admits with some embarassment that, yes, it was mostly all lies, and that the various facebook profiles of OTHER people that Nev saw corresponding as sort of side-friends were also made-up or make-ups of other people.  The pictures of Megan, as a kind of creative-artistic trick, are of a model from Vancouver.

Have I said too much?  Maybe.  And maybe not enough.  The big "secret" that the film has been hyped up to have is, in retrospect, only fitting if you're ignorant as to what the set-up entails.  It's current genre on IMDb is only that of a "thriller" (Ebert's review, on the other hand, says simply "a documentary"), but even if it is fake I don't see really where the thrills are.  Some suspense is to be had, to be certain, at what the guys will come across when they get to Michigan, as is the moment as they come up to Angela's house.  What it comes down to is being about the mystery of the human condition, to get all pretentious about it.  The film is intimate in scope, though complicated by how facebook and social networking mucks up common human interaction.  I was involved with the parts of uncracking the sort of web-of-lies made up around Angela, Megan and Abby and so on, some of this done in such a style as intricate though unassuming.  It also by the time it got to Angela made me wonder if she was like a Mark Whitacre ala The Informant! character, who makes up so many lies that it becomes the truth of the matter, or spoken so simply as if it is all true (i.e. "My parents died and I was raised an orphan, caught a big break").

But it didn't take long for me to be sucked in completely by just how painfully normal everything is about the family.  And this, coupled with Angela on screen, her actual talent as a painter on display and what her family life is really like, connected me ever so much more to the characters.  This is somewhat a tragedy, but I can't say quite if it is on either side.  No one gets into shouting matches, and no one ever raises their voices.  Both parties care too much about the other, even as so much un-truthiness floats in the air.  The human souls of Angela, and even Nev to a degree, are opened up bare and wide open by the last ten to fifteen minutes by what is said and by what is shown.  We, or at least I, more than understood what she did: this was her escapism, the cross between reality and fantasy by way of the distance and illusion capable by facebook and the like.  Maybe I was saddened by the awful side Facebook has done to this relationship.  On the other hand, they wouldn't have met in the manner they had- or gotten so intimate, maybe too much so- via the website that allows for friendships to be made and maintained and grow so easily.  There's even, just slightly, a small bit of paranoia one takes away from the film about how those of us who make friendships on such sites, the risk that is taken with really connecting.

But what is friendship anyway, on the human level?  Trust?  Respect?  Does Angela show these by film's end?  I'm not sure; in the final title card it's stated Nev and Angela are still 'facebook friends' (and certainly, if the film is all real, she gave her consent as the family did to be in it).  The layers of what it is to just live and be connected to one another or how to survive are really what's at stake here.  In those terms it may be just as or more important than Exit Through the Gift Shop, if one would try to compare.  But, again, at the moment I want to try to think in terms of the content of its people, the heart of the matter.

This, I should add, should go without saying how I've kind of skipped over the technical aspects (this, as Matt has pointed out, shouldn't be disregarded).  Why shoot on such a camera, for example, that Lynch didn't even use for Inland Empire?  The most sophisticated these guys get- and these dudes have professional equipment and have made commercials for people as high-up as NIKE- are wireless lav-mics used for when Nev and the other first go to Angela's house without the camera meant to be there.  As a stylistic choice, if it is staged, it is rather creative as a way to make it a "home-movie" in a full kind of way.  Though my instinct would tell me that this was more of a coincidence, that the film was shot the way it was as a kind of side-project, and by the time it picked up the urgency of the narrative they had been filming the way they had for so long as to not go any other way.  I've never felt closer to the rough format of a consumer-camera in a majorly released motion picture as I have here.


In short, Catfish carries a lot of weight, thematically, emotionally, as a punch to the gut and the intellect.  How did they pull it off?  I think they were just there.  Maybe I'm too trusting, or not skeptical enough.  I usually think I have a good handle on these things.  But at the least, in 80 minutes, I felt I got to know Nev, how he viewed the situation, and how Angela did as well.  No one's really a "bad" person, and at worst Angela is just a messed-up gal with too much time on Facebook when not in the dregs of her everyday life. Roger Ebert sums it up best: "Let's agree on this: We deserve to share happiness in this world, and if we supply it in the way it's sought and nobody gets hurt, is that a bad thing?"

If it is all staged, then, un-sarcastically, you guys are the "best writers in Hollywood."


PS: This is a perfect compendium, and maybe even more about Facebook, with The Social Network.

PPS: Being that it's Halloween season as well, here's a song from the Muppet Show that kind of sums up a lot of what I've been writing about.... Okay, not really, but it's a fun song anyway!

The Social Network Review

by Matt



There's a lot of ego floating around a film set. Let people work in collaboration on a creative venture and, sooner or later, sensibilities are going to clash. Discussions cross a blurry line into insults, you say things you later regret, and at some point, someone's vision gets left in the dust. I don't think I've ever been on a shoot where this wasn't the case (some more notably than others).

More than a thesis on new media culture, I feel this theme takes the forefront of The Social Network. I felt very personally connected to this film, because at some point I've been in the shoes of every character. I've been the impatient whiz kid, the arrogant voice of little experience, the associate who got less than he bargained for, or the close friend who has to say something painfully frank because it just has to be said. (That last one isn't related to creative ventures in my case or the film's.)

Of course, The Social Network isn't about a film set, but rather the creation of the internet giant Facebook. The film has been a jumping off point for many viewers to discuss Facebook's impact on culture and interpersonal communication at its most basic level. It's trailer features a montage of profile picture and status updates set to a melancholy choir-version of the song "Creep" and enjoys a huge renown by its own merits.



For a film that has so many people talking about the social media, the film itself shows very little interest. It could just as easily have been about a film production, a stage play, or a rock group. The only thing that really separates The Social Network from these examples is its lack of reverence, or even interest, in its characters' creation.

I've noticed a tendency for David Fincher to sidestep more conventional screenplays for ones which ignore catharsis in favor of more mundane, realistic through-lines. Whether it's Benjamin Button shrinking back into the womb or Robert Graysmith devoting 25 years (and nearly three hours of screen-time) to a still-unsolved murder mystery, his films are often about conflicts failing to resolve. The Social Network definitely fits this mold, but it sometimes clumsily draws too much attention to this. Eisenberg's Zuckerberg is most fascinating when seen from afar, successfully clashing wits from behind a face totally bankrupt of personality.

I'm being a little hard on this film, but it shouldn't deter you from seeing it. The dialog has the pace and wit of a 1940s screwball masterpiece, and the performances are so intense that you may find it difficult to keep up. If you're expecting a film about Facebook or the Internet or the Matrix, however, you won't find it here (but Catfish might be playing next door). I just want to make sure you get it down in writing before committing to it. If you know what to expect, you might save yourself a whole mess of stress down the line. ;)

Severed Thumbs: Let Me In

by: Jon

I'm drunk, let's do this. First, a quick back story. In 2004 a Swedish writer by the name of John Ajvide Lindqvist wrote a vampire novel called Låt den rätte komma in translated, Let the Right One In.

It was a new spin on the vampire genre that intertwined several separate stories but focused on a boy named Oskar who is regularly bullied at school and a "girl" named Eli, the vampire who befriends him. It was dark, it was sweet, it made me say "what the fuck?" a couple times, and, in 2008, it was made into a Swedish movie of the same name.

When the movie premiered stateside it received a lot of acclaim from genre fans, movie buffs, and critics alike. It was still in a niche though, not that many people saw it. So, as is the increasingly common case, in 2010 there was an American remake made called Let Me In

directed by Matt Reeves and staring Chloe Moretz (Kick-Ass) as "Abby" and some kid I know I've seen him in stuff but can't seem to put my finger on as "Owen" (obviously, just like on Ellis Island names have to be Americanized too). Oh, and it also stars Casey Jones. With a relatively weak opening weekend this film probably isn't going to be around much longer so I saw it today. Now, this review is difficult. Because it is a remake, I naturally have to try to break it up into two reviews. One as a stand alone film, the other as what it is, a remake.

First up, let's get all biases out of the way and review it as a remake. This is difficult because, to paraphrase a friend, it's like reviewing Jesus's son, no matter how good the kid is, his father is fucking Jesus. Though not as terrible as I expected there was a lot lacking. The pacing was completely off, the extra graphics were wanton, and it was noticeably dumbed down. My friend and I kept on joking that there should be a pop up video version of it. In the original story, Eli writes Oskar a note which simply is a Romeo and Juliet reference "I must be gone and live, or stay and die.". It's used in the movie, but not before the repetitive showing of Romeo and Juliet cramming down the viewers' collective throats and identifying that that is a reference to Romeo and Juliet. My other complaints are there was no real showing of the relationship of Abby (Eli) and "The Father" (Hakan). The side characters are also glanced over such as Eli's one victim Virginia who becomes a vampire herself. In the original it's very touching to see her realize what she has become and, knowing it's going to incinerate her, telling the nurse to open the curtains to her hospital room. My final complaint is "The Father" (played by Richard Jenkins) is the most bumbling serial killer ever. His first scene killing someone shows him stepping through ice and spilling a jug of blood. He had about as much screen time in the original Swedish film but the viewer was able to sympathize with him more because one could tell he has been doing this for a while, and when he finally gets caught it's one simple mistake that does him in. He was thrown into this relationship and role and is just starting to get tired and sloppy. The Americanized version uses him as comic relief, not as a character one can get behind and feel sorry for. I understand what they were doing and I'm all for being the first person to say "most Americans are dumb" but that doesn't mean you need to rip out the soul of a picture to make it more palatable. The movie was so stripped down for American audiences that it turned into Cliff Notes. Complaints aside, they still managed to keep at least some semblance of the relationship between Eli and Oskar, for the most part, in tact. Despite the computer generated effects, they also were able to show the dichotomy of Abby and what she really is.

as a remake 2 out of 6


Now that my ranting is done and over with, as a stand alone piece, it really wasn't that bad. There were a couple shots in the movie that really stood out. The first that comes to mind is when "The Father" is trying to speed away after killing his last victim. Most of the shot is from his point of view and you really get the feeling of anxiety as he's trying to pull this off. Yes, it is a Charlie Brown act because everything goes comically wrong (nothing goes together quite like homicide and slapstick kids) but the scene is intense. It's confusing, it's dizzying, it made my heart beat a bit faster. Another scene I utterly love besides the car accident is when Casey Jones/Elias Koteas/The Police Officer, is killed by Abby and he is reaching out to Owen to help him. That was a much appreciated addition because you really saw the horror of this beast and Owen just closes the door on this dying man. You could tell at this moment he not only accepts what kind of animal Abby is but what humanity he has to sacrifice to be with her.
On that note I mentioned in the previous section the relationship between Abby and Owen is, while not as deep as it was in the original, very much real. These were two star crossed lovers who relied on one another for comfort. The addition of the drunk, Jesus freak mother was also a nice touch and the pacing, while not nearly as fantastic as the original, was still slow enough to actually build to something.

Stand Alone movie 3 out of 6

My screenplay "The Men and the Damnation" is now on Moviehatch!

Hey everyone, Jack here.  I need your help if you're reading this.

This is moviehatch.com - this is a competition where the screenwriters get a chance to have their feature script see the light of day with producers and people who can get shit made.  There's are a bunch of entries in their contest section where people can vote on projects- some have "fake" trailers, and some only have posters.




My entry for my crime-drama script, The Men and the Damnation, is up on the site now, and if you have literally two seconds to spare, come over and vote for it and maybe something will happen.  You can just click RIGHT HERE and vote today!  If you vote a 1, I know where you live....