Friday, October 8, 2010

Top Ten

Oh, and since a whole movie season has past, I think it's safe to rank some of the movies I've seen this year.

  1. The Social Network, dir. David Fincher
  2. Toy Story 3, dir. Lee Unkrich
  3. The Tillman Story, dir. Amir Bar-Lev
  4. Splice, dir. Vincenzo Natali
  5. The Town, dir. Ben Affleck
  6. Inception, Christopher Nolan
  7. Shutter Island, dir. Martin Scorsese
  8. The Art of the Steal, dir. Don Argott
  9. Cyrus, dir. Jay & Mark Duplass
  10. Edge of Darkness, dir. Martin Campbell
I still need to see The Ghost Writer and The Expendables. All in all, only two "summer blockbusters" made my list:  Toy Story 3 and Inception. That's a good indicator to me that it's been an overall shitty year for mainstream flicks. Kind of like 2009. However, I couldn't be more excited for the Fall/Winter movie season. I'm mostly looking forward to seeing Darren Aronofsky's Black Swan.

Detours

I'm surprised by how long it's been since I wrote something. Six months? Really?

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When I last wrote I was dating Liz and we kind of lived life in a bubble it seems. In terms of progress, things were in suspended animation for a while. I suppose the one productive thing that happened over the summer was getting a half way decent job at Apple.

In August, Liz and I had a messy break-up. It was mutual, but I think I came out of it more hurt than she. Anyway, we've since exchanged belongings, and I don't think I'll be seeing her again. It was probably a love affair that lasted too long.

But a lot of progress has been made in the last month and a half. I've been skyping with buddies down in San Francisco about getting my movie made. I've done so much writing on it in the last 9 months, that it's turning into something I'm excited about. I'm in the highest level screenwriting course at my school, and my teacher is somewhat of a celebrity among the Motion Pictures & Television department. He wrote what was to be Brad Bird's live action debut, 1906. Anyway, he's been providing me feedback on my outlines and treatments that's been incredibly helpful. He also loves my concept which is encouraging. By November, I'll have my third draft. After that I'll receive feedback from a Hollywood script reader. By December, I should have a final draft that's registered with the WGA.

I'm looking to transfer my job to San Francisco in January, and from there Taylor and I will continue to produce this flick. I'm going to storyboard every shot of the movie in detail. I'm going to pass those on to Taylor who will storyboard coverage shots. He has proposed that we shoot in color 16mm and although I've been kind of hesitant about it--I'm setting out to make a no-budget flick--he's talked about taking out his 401k to finance it. That's kind of where storyboarding comes in. I want the movie pre-visualized completely and I want a month or two to rehearse the actors. When that happens, I'll select the final shots before we even begin filming, and I'll shoot little to no coverage to save on footage. Also, I want to put a lot of thought into the color psychology of the film. I want the palette to be deliberate in the emotions it tries to evoke, same goes for the shot compositions and the lighting. I want to make something that's unique, but I also think that if I go through the long, tedious process, I'll turn out something to be proud of.

It's looking like I'm closer to being back home. I was talking to a friend about what I'd think when I looked back on this detour in Washington state over the last year. It's kind of surreal: working on a movie, briefly moving to Los Angeles, a serious relationship, a new job, etc. But all in all, it'll still be a detour in my life. Kind of like how the year and a half between graduating high school and leaving for school in SF was a detour. I've come to realize that I hate the feeling of being tethered to anyone or anything. My experiences have really taught me what kind of filmmaker I don't want to be, and I've had the time to sort of re-evaluate the reasons for all my life's pursuits, whether it's school, my career, or getting laid. Sometimes detours can be a therapeutic excursion. I just hope they don't always have to happen in Washington.



Monday, April 26, 2010

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Getting Ready to Shoot

So I discussed with my collaborator Matt the idea of pushing our movie shoot until September because we'll have a lot more access to film equipment at that point. So it looks that's what's going to happen.

Although I'm still going to act as though we're shooting this summer, if we shoot in September it really gives me more leeway to storyboard. Right now I have to have a first draft on May 1st. Then Matt and I are going to make both our material coherent and consistent. I imagine I'll do a few subsequent rewrites, and then the real fun begins.

The movie is a straight up crime flick in the style of film noir. I'm going to storyboard using blacks and whites and my brush pen. The goal is not to half ass it. I want to make a storyboard where the artwork can stand on its own merits. Most would say not to go that far for a storyboard because they are not necessarily meant to look pretty. However, I plan on importing the storyboards on to Final Cut Pro, doing a script reading (preferably with the actors we cast), and pacing the audio from the script reading to the storyboard on FCP, making a pre-vis. If the pre-vis is good enough, I'll add that to my director's reel, which currently is pretty skimpy.

Once I have a pre-vis of the movie, actors in mind, etc., I might use the extra time to find additional financing. I figure the pre-vis will be a great tool for that. Second, with my mini-DV cam, I'm really going to push my desire to film one short film a week. Shoot it one day, edit it the second day and then show it to people for their reaction. That's Sam Raimi's advice. There couldn't be a greater way to warm up for a feature film shoot and to continue beefing up my reel by making ten shorts or more. On another note, Matt and I are looking for subjects for a documentary. We're not just going to make one feature, we're going to make two. Our follow-up to the film noir will be a documentary and it will happen before next summer. I'm quite excited by the prospect of that. I'm also excited to continue working with the Seattle film community whom I've met a lot of in the last few months.

Last night, Liz said it was sexy how ambitious I was, but I told her it's only out of fear and desperation. Even though I'm still attending my school, being in Washington makes me feel less active than when I'm in San Francisco and constantly working on something, be it a friend's project or my own. Too many people who want to be filmmakers have no drive. They figure they'll go to film school and when they get out, work will be waiting for them. The way I see it, I have no other option than to just fucking make a film. I don't want to pull cables on someone else's film set, and after the high of co-writing and producing The Penitent Man, I need need need to create some more. The best way to be a creative type is to simply do it using what resources you have. I have enough to continue my journey as a filmmaker, and therefore I have to.



Monday, April 5, 2010

New Poll: What Summer blockbuster are looking forward to most in 2010?

I added a poll thingy to the right of the page underneath the blog archive. I want to know what people are looking forward to seeing the most this summer when it comes to the "big" films.

As an unapologetic M. Night Shyamalan fan, my pick is easily The Last Airbender. That's followed very, very closely by Christopher Nolan's Inception.

THE LAST AIRBENDER





INCEPTION

Friday, April 2, 2010

Turbulent Times: Star Trek, The Outer Limits & the 1960s


I want to write about two major science fiction shows that grew to popularity at two different points in the 1960s—The Outer Limits (1963-1965) and Star Trek (1966-1969). Aside from both being science fiction programs, there seemingly is not much that links the two series in terms of tone and content. Instead, what is striking is how two different shows explored different themes involving everything from sexism and feminism, racism and race relations, and militarism and peace. All of the social commentary was very relevant to the issues in the latter half of the 1960s. Star Trek, in particular, is notable for being set in future yet reflecting contemporary problems, including the Cold War. Gene Roddenberry, Star Trek’s creator, himself said, “I have no belief that Star Trek depicts the actual future. It depicts us, now, things we need to understand about that.” It is worth comparing it to The Outer Limits  because of how tonally different the two were despite both being science fiction shows with a great deal of contemporary subtext.
If I'm going to compare the two shows, I think it's best to use one particular episode as an example. The Outer Limits and Star Trek both have episodes that are an adaptation of a short story titled "Arena" by Fredric Brown. The story is about a man and an alien who are coerced into fighting to the death by a superior, if not omnipotent, alien being. Whoever loses the duel will have their race annihilated by the superior alien. The Star Trek episode shares the name of the short story. The different approaches the respective writers took for both episodes define the differences between the two shows. In The Outer Limits episode, titled “Fun and Games,” good and bad are not clearly defined. Much of this is due to the series’ film noir influences. Many of the characters are shady, with a lot of inner conflict, and could have been straight out of a 1940s film noir. For example, in “Fun and Games,” the main protagonist is an ex-pug named Benson who’s on the run from the law for a crime he witnessed, but did not commit. Like most of the anthology’s protagonists, Benson's humanity is tested in a physical manifestation and external conflict with an alien being.  Having a character like that, and putting him in a position that decides the fate of humankind, significantly raises the stakes in a way that Star Trek was not necessarily able to. At the end of “Fun and Games,” Earth is ultimately saved, but is it truly a note of triumph? The main character goes back to his sad existence and all is as it was before—bleak.
In the Star Trek episode “Arena,” which aired a few years after “Fun and Games,” Captain James T. Kirk is put in the exact same position as Benson. He is summoned to a planet by a vastly superior being to fight another captain of a different species to determine the outcome of their race. Kirk is ever cunning, and his heroism keeps the feeling of imminent danger to a minimum. At the end, Kirk defeats his opponent but refuses to finish him off, thus filling the role of peace-maker. The being that summoned Kirk then appears, as a young, almost angelic figure. It is revealed that Kirk’s mercy was what passed the true test, proving that there is indeed hope for human beings. This is a clear message relating to The Cold War, which was causing escalating paranoia in the wake of the Vietnam War at the time. 
The Outer Limits and Star Trek have great differences, as exemplified by their contrasting handling of the same source material.  Aside from being an anthology show rather than a continual  episodic series, The Outer Limits, unlike both Star Trek and The Twilight Zone, is not at all overt in its social commentary. Its goal, first and foremost, was to entertain. Therefore, the writers focused more on the suspense and sci-fi aspects. The message was conveyed through the edgy nature of its characters, and the decisions they make when put in extreme scenarios. The tone of The Outer Limits was considerably darker, and its messages were often more ironic, as opposed to the sometimes didactic Star Trek. One interesting thing to note is that before Star Trek  was created, Gene Roddenberry was often present at The Outer Limits studio and even recruited some of its writing team for Star Trek.
Star Trek took a very progressive, very optimistic view of the future. Gene Roddenberry was a self-described humanist, who always held out hope for mankind. His vision of the 23rd century was a world in which war, religion, racism and sexism do not exist. Mr. Spock is often used as a figure that is discriminated and treated poorly, particularly by Dr. McCoy, for being a Vulcan. This is because, being an alien, he was a safe target to get the message across without much controversy. In addition, the creators of the show attempted to portray female characters as equals. However, studio executives put pressure on the creators to keep women dressed in skimp clothing and skirts. Nonetheless, the character Lt. Uhura is notable not only because she is a woman in a commanding position, but she is also a black character. The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise was deliberately mixed race, including a Japanese American character, Hikaru Sulu. Star Trek’s legacy as an innovative show is not solely because of its science fiction ideas, unlike The Outer Limits (the sci-fi content of which has inspired countless rip-offs and adaptations), and more with its social and political commentary, particularly when it comes to race relations. After all, the show was broadcast during the height of the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s. In the episode “Plato’s Stepchildren,” Star Trek made television history by showing the first interracial kiss between Captain Kirk and Lt. Uhura—a decision that was hard to make for the studio executives at NBC.     

Ultimately, Star Trek and The Outer Limits have secured their place in TV history for different reasons. Both are great displays of science fiction which has more to say about the times in which they were broadcast. The Outer Limits typically had contemporary settings with contemporary characters, in which an external science fiction element is introduced. It’s the ordinary meets the extraordinary, which is the basis for a lot of the show’s appeal. It is able to more effortlessly relate to the events of which it took place due to layered characters and modern setting. Star Trek, on the other hand, is set in the future but reflects an idealized version of the human race as envisioned in the 1960s. The two shows are worth comparing because they are both examples of hard science fiction. All true good science fiction, like westerns, are morality plays. They may have outlandish stories and settings, but they’re about us. It allows for subjective viewing—anyone can find themselves in these stories, and that makes them endure.

My New Girlfriend

Yes, I have a new girlfriend. It happened really suddenly. As dorky as it sounds, we met online--yeah, I know. But already it has totally paid off because this is the happiest I've been at the start of a relationship (we've only been dating a little over a week) in a long, long time.

She's quite rad, and I suspect she will appear in my blog in the future.

Oh, and her name is Liz. Learn it well.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Combating Laziness


So I officially have about four ideas that I’m developing for scripts—one of which started as a short that I now think might work better as a feature, and a one of which is something I want to shoot on no budget in a matter of months. I think I have the two upper-level screenwriting courses I have this semester to thank for the sudden abundance of ideas. My grade's on the line if I fail to produce any.
Unfortunately, between losing my phone, having to work, and my car overheating, I feel like I’ve lost precious time—about a week. Not much by most people’s standards, but if I’m to make feature this summer the distractions must stop. I’ve already gotten a little out of the groove thanks to my lost week and now I’m dealing with procrastination. It’s my own damn fault. So tomorrow I’m going to wake up and force myself to write for four hours before work. I’m going to do that every day Monday-Thursday. On the weekend I can find a couple hours to devote to side projects, going to the movies, reading, and smoking pot if I feel so inclined.
Sounds like good time management, no?

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

San Francisco's Calling Me

Ever since by very brief move back and forth from Los Angeles, I've been thinking more seriously about going back to San Francisco this Fall. I don't want to sit still in Seattle.

I think it might have something to do with being born in the Bay Area. It feels more like home. That, and I'm relatively stress free when I'm there thanks to not needing my car. Oddly, San Francisco seems more familiar after living there two years than Washington does after living here most of my life.

If I came back this Fall, not only would I be going back having co-written/produced a theatrically released feature film, but potentially having directed my first feature. I'm writing a no budget film noir currently and the plan is to film it this Summer.

Now I need to look into if the Academy of Art University would either point me in the direction of some scholarships, or cover some of my tuition.

Rod Serling on Injecting Philosophy Into His Work

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Salvador Dali and Walt Disney – Destino

From Artinthepicture.com:

Destino is a short animated cartoon released in 2003 by The Walt Disney Company. Destino is unique in that its production originally began in 1945, 58 years before its eventual completion. The project was a collaboration between American animator Walt Disney and Spanish painter Salvador DalĂ­, and features music written by Mexican songwriter Armando Dominguez. It seems an unlikely cooperation and/or friendship, but it happened nonetheless.

Destino from only one on Vimeo.

Rod Serling on Where Ideas Come From

On YouTube there's a great series of interview clips with Twilight Zone creator Rod Serling. I first saw these on Scott Myers' blog Go Into The Story where he's been posting one video a day. I shall try to do the same.

LOST: The Disappearing Distinction Between TV and Cinema


My all-time favorite television show, albeit only slightly above Ronald D. Moore’s brilliant Battlestar Galactica update, is LOST. I love it for the mystery, the ensemble cast, the emphasis on visual storytelling, the seamless blending of science fiction, the paranormal, and mundane human drama. This re-imagining of the common tale of castaways on an uninhabited island mixed, coupled with supernatural and sci-fi undertones reflects my favorite theme in fiction—the mundane versus the fantastic.

Although LOST, with its very high production value, feels very much like a movie to me. However, unlike Battlestar Galactica, which is filmed on digital, LOST is one of the most expensive shows on television—the two-part pilot being the most expensive ABC had ever produced. It was created when ABC wanted to make a television series that was a cross between William Golding’s novel Lord of the Flies, Robert Zemeckis’s Cast Away, Gilligan’s Island, while capitalizing on the success of the reality television program Survivor. Other inspirations were the work of Rod Serling, particularly the paranormal and suspense aspects of The Twilight Zone—another all-time favorite of mine, and the video game Myst. Jeffrey Lieber, who went on to write many episodes, initially wrote the pilot, title “Nowhere,” based on his pitch for the show. ABC was not satisfied with his teleplay so they contacted J.J. Abrams, essentially as a “fixer.” Abrams had been a revered icon within the television industry for creating and producing hit shows like Felicity and Alias. He began collaborating with fellow geek writer Damon Lindelof from Crossing Jordan. Abrams had one demand—that the show have a supernatural angle to it. The rest came together as the cast came together. Many of the characters were scrapped altogether to accommodate actors who may have been perfect for the show, despite not having a character in the initial draft that suited them.

The show is my favorite for infinite reasons. As a unapologetic fan of M. Night Shyamalan, I love the supernatural backdrop and emphasis on characters and their relationships to one another. I love the non-linear structure of episodes. In the first three seasons, every episode would take the point of view of one of the principle characters and intercut between their story on the island, and their story before the plane crash that marooned them there. Then, in a stroke of genius, they changed things up in the season three finale in an episode titled “Through the Looking Glass.” We assume we’re watching flashbacks of one of our lead characters (and would-be leader of the survivors), Jack Sheppard (Matthew Fox). However, his character is a drunk, scruffy, and suicidal, contradicting all of his previous flashbacks and what we know of his character at that point. Then, in the last minute of the show, he meets up with a fellow survivor, and we realize that what we’re watching is not a flashback, but a flash-forward! In the middle of its planned six seasons, it is revealed that many of them actually get off the island. The show’s title can then be thought of as a clear double meaning. The show is not about survivors lost on an untraceable island. It’s about people who are lost in their own lives.

My favorite episode is the season 4 episode, “The Constant.” It focuses on my favorite character, Desmond Hume (Henry Ian Cusick), a Scottish man who was stranded on the island before the survivors of the plane crash were. He, in a nod to Homer’s The Odyssey, is trying to get back to his love Penelope. In the episode, Desmond’s consciousness keeps going between the present (on the island) and the past (before the island). He is essentially being jolted back and forth through time, although nothing in his body is being physically moved. It is merely his consciousness going back, in a highly original take on a classic sci-fi trope, time travel. This was the beginning of the show’s delving into cerebral science fiction. The jolting back and forth in time will eventually cause a short circuiting in the brain that will kill Desmond if he doesn’t find his “constant. The constant that the title refers to is revealed to be Penelope, as she is the only figure present both in his past and present. By hanging on to her, his life is saved. As a reward, he makes contact with Penelope and her team of rescuers at the end of the episode in a very heartfelt moment. It is the juxtaposition of these elements, science fiction and humanity, that make this transcend typical television fare.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Batman: The Animated Series and Patronizing Children


The earliest favorite show I can remember is easily Batman: The Animated Series. It debuted in September of 1992, when I was four years old, and before Warner Bros. had its own television network devoted to younger programming. Today, the show is seen as an animation landmark. Following its debut, other shows began emulating its animation quality. The creators incorporated an Art Deco and 1940’s film noir atmosphere, even painting backgrounds on black paper. They were inspired by the Max Fleischer Superman cartoons of the 1940s, as well as the timeless stylization of Tim Burton’s films in which cars and fashion of the ‘40s blended with a modern world.

Although it aired on Saturday mornings, in which I first watched them, my fondest memories come from when it was on weekday afternoons. I remember watching it daily during my Summer vacations, and during the school year shortly after getting home from school. By this time, 1997, I was 9 years old. Batman: TAS was added to an anthology hour titled The New Batman/Superman Adventures, which included an update of Superman: The Animated Series, which had debuted in 1996 by the same creators of Batman: TAS, Bruce Timm and Eric Radomski. As a child, I also enjoyed Superman: The Animated Series, and as an adult (and avid comic fan) I revere the character of Superman slightly more than Batman. However, nothing from my childhood surpasses the thrills, the level of danger and suspense, the concepts,—many of the stories were adapted directly from classic mythos in comics—the humor and sheer of quality of Batman: The Animated Series.

It’s clear today, and I never would have perceived it as a child, that the commercials were being directly geared toward me and my demographic—boys. Commercials during this time were of fast food restaurants, action figures, play sets, family films, candy and video games. In retrospect, it amazes me how effective that television works as a commercial machine. Despite always being aggravated by commercials, and as much as passively watched them, most of my Christmas and birthday presents were comprised of things I asked for. I knew what I wanted because I had seen it on TV. It’s almost subliminal. It’s like brainwashing. For example, young children will want McDonald’s for dinner, because the TV tells them they want it for dinner—they even give you a toy!

Looking back on the programming of my childhood, and the advertising etched into my brain alongside Batman, it makes me all the more grateful to be living in the information age. It’s an age where I can download a show, such as Batman or any number of childhood favorites, and watch it without being asked to buy things. Although I certainly didn’t care about this when I was a child, I would rather enjoy a show on its own merits, without having to endure the advertisement. I can safely say, however, that I’ve never been captivated by commercials. Instead, they always impeded upon the show I was enjoying.

This is not to say that Batman: The Animated Series was some sort of punk rock show with an anti-capitalist message that I appreciated for its artistic merits. No, while viewing Batman and Robin squaring off with The Joker (played by Mark Hamill, who made a new career for himself), I was being sold to still. That show had me hooked. Therefore, I was going to want the merchandise. I had Batman bed sheets, an electric toothbrush, and several boxes full of Batman action figures. I had Batman video games and birthday party themes. And that was with the animated series alone! If you counted, all the movies, comics and merchandise from both, I’ve invested a lot into Warner Bros.’s franchise.

Although part of me wants to instantly object to the simple notion of advertising to kids due to how manipulative it is, I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much if their product satisfies, and Batman: The Animated Series certainly did.

Monday, February 22, 2010

In Defense of Television...


The advent of television was one of the greatest gifts to cinema. It diversified the medium, allowed for dense story arcs, larger casts of characters, live audiences, and TV challenged filmmakers to come up with smaller-scale storylines with creative restrictions. Television has grown into something much more than a commercial machine, but a form of cinema in its own right, particularly in the last ten years.
As a Lost fan, the greatest thing television provides is dense narratives. There’s a reason many thick novels, especially those by Stephen King, are adapted into television mini-series. They can cover more characters, more subplots, and more narrative arcs. Each season of Lost layers meaning and significance to events and characters in previous seasons, sometimes brilliantly so. Shows like Lost, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar: the Last Airbender, and The Sopranos, among others—all shows that aren’t just episodic, but each episode contains a piece to the whole, grander story. Shows like these are nearly impossible to adapt to film simply because there is too much integral information that would have to be chopped for the sake of a realistic runtime. These shows have drama, emotion, poignancy, relevance, and high entertainment value—everything and more we could hope from a great movie.
Not only did TV contribute to the storytelling meaning, but it made directors of both TV and feature films to adapt and grow as showmen. Cecil B. DeMille wrote epics filmed in scope to provide a cinema experience worth going out to the theaters for. Basically it’s about giving the audience its money’s worth. I would argue that without television, William Wyler might not have bothered to make a movie as ambitious as his Ben Hur remake in 1959. Perhaps David Lean would not have aspired as high in terms of the scale of his movies had TV not have been a competitor for the theater-going public.
In addition it taught filmmakers to pull the reins in. Stories had to be told with creative restrictions, of which many would actually criticize the nature of television for. But limitations and guidelines are from what creativity is born. For example, when George Lucas and Steven Spielberg (who, incidentally, started out directing television) began prepping Raiders of the Lost Ark, Lucas, with his producer hat on, noticed that Spielberg had been storyboarding the movie as if it were a David Lean epic. Lucas, who had only gotten a modest budget from Paramount, urged him to scale back. What he said to Spielberg was, “do it like a TV show”—as in down and dirty, cheap, real, and like an old fashioned serial. The minimalism paid off. One can see a huge difference between Raiders of the Lost Ark, and the most recent Indiana Jones movies, which had a considerably higher, “movie-sized” budget. Minimalist filmmaking has become an art thanks to television, one can point to Steven Spielberg’s first film as well, Duel. Duel was a movie made for television, and shot in twelve days. It was so good, it received a limited theatrical release, and a cult following. It is one of the most elemental stories ever—a giant fucking semi-truck tries to exact revenge on the tight-ass who cut him off. It’s brilliant, Hitchcockian, and completely small-scale and all the better for it. All thanks to the restrictions of filmmaking for television.
It’s clear that TV, while perhaps hard for Hollywood to adjust to and exploit its full potential, has over time become a great competitor for cinema-going. This will not change. Shows are already getting better in terms of production value and its ability to use the medium to its advantage in telling a large story. Teleplays have inspired the art of dialogue, and further linked cinema with the stage. Anthology shows have given ideas for filmmakers to flesh out for feature films (M. Night Shyamalan has professed his desire to make “feature length Twilight Zone episodes”).

Some of my favorite storytellers...

M. Night Shyamalan - I love the thematic links between his screenplays. His concepts couldn't be further apart from one another but they all bare his signature. He hasn't compromised his style or storytelling methods despite recent critical backlash. He defiantly chooses to write his own screenplays, turning down offers to direct other people's material. His screenplays also don't conform to traditional structure. His first three acts are typically half an hour long each, with a ten minute fourth act at the end serving as a falling action. By doing this, Shyamalan seems to be part art house/indie auteur, and part mainstream filmmaker. I aspire to that.

Agatha Christie - I love how she structures her mystery stories. Its very cinematic in how she withholds information, like Shyamalan, only to reveal it at the very end. It makes her novels really suspenseful, and satisfying reads.


Richard Matheson - First off, I love his Twilight Zone episodes and adaptations of his own short stories and novellas (Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, The Shrinking Man, etc.). But I love him mostly for the BIG IDEAS presented in his stories. For example, I Am Legend is a reversal of Dracula. Instead of the world being populated by humans with one vampire among us, the world is now populated by vampires with one human among us. He's the Dracula of the human race.

Jack Finney - Author of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Time and Again, From Time to Time, and numerous short stories. For anyone who loves The Twilight Zone, this guy does Rod Serling one better. His shorts often set in San Francisco, deal with time travel and they tend to incorporate a twist.
Stephen King - I think with Stephen King's It, he managed to do what no filmmaker has done in making something so overwhelmingly visceral and frightening, and yet very warm and emotional. I loved the empowering of children in it. The juxtaposition of the monster with the 1950s Norman Rockwell setting makes the horror that much more horrifying. It's kind of how Pan's Labyrinth functions. Stephen King has other books that do this too-The Shining and Bag of Bones, in my opinion.

Brian K. Vaughn - I love him for his work on Lost, but even more so for his comic series Y: The Last Man, about an aspiring escape artist and his pet monkey as they survive through a plague that instantly wipes out every living creature with a Y chromosome. So women have inherited the Earth. It's both funny and surprisingly believable.