I find my galloping horse more entertaining, but not a shabby effort nonetheless. — Eadweard Muybridge

Videos, I like to make ‘em. For your intense enjoyment, here’s a couple I recently helped shoot and edit.

A production by the University of Waterloo Film Creators Club (UWFCC if you dig acronyms), this one’s an ongoing series. We shot the second episode recently, complete with ninjas and a mop brandishing janitor played by yours truly.

With more talent than chin hairs, it’s only a matter of time before S.T. Holmes becomes a household name alongside Judi Dench and Busta Rhymes.

As long as elephantine abdominal muscles are involved, I’m satisfied. — Pierre Fauchard

Crafting a compelling hero is a difficult task. At least, one assumes so given recent films featuring protagonists less exciting than Ferris Bueller’s economics prof. I’m looking at you Captain America — sure, his chiseled abs and patriotic (though inadvisable) colour choices distinguish him from his peers, but his unwavering good intentions make every decision predictable. He vanquishes evil as superheroes typically do, but we already know he’s going to do that. Pyrotechnics aside, the journey to his final confrontation with Agent Smith is ultimately forgettable. Not once during the film did I bust out my moral compass, and I left the theatre with an indifferent shrug.

Memorable heroes are those that not only triumph over the baddies, but also over their own internal struggles and deficiencies. Let us skip from Marvel’s universe over to DC and examine Nolan’s celebrated Dark Knight. At a superficial level, both Batman and Captain America slap the hooligans and prevent innocent lives from being mercilessly extinguished. The former, however, is a much more captivating character. Unlike Captain America, Bruce Wayne is imperfect. On screen is a man haunted by his past and tormented in the present by his inability to keep safe his loved ones. He makes difficult decisions, decisions which might be considered immoral, and not even his best buds dig them. The sweet ninja skills and totally rad tank car make for solid entertainment, but more than his physical feats it’s Batman’s grapples with ethics that make The Dark Knight a satisfying watch.

Each time the hero makes a decision, we ask ourselves (perhaps subconsciously) whether we’d act in the same manner. When the answer to every question is readily available, we have a dull hero on our hands. Moral ambiguity makes a character engaging; a lack of it, boring. Iron Man’s charisma only gets him so far — it’s when he questions the benefit of Stark Industries to the world that there is an interesting story to tell.

When a film hits its third act, there must always be the danger that the hero fails to overcome the villainy they face. This potential for defeat must come from within though. In parallel with the external threat there must exist the possibility that the hero themselves aren’t strong enough to rise to the challenge. Their weaknesses and character flaws must put into jeopardy their ability to karate chop Agent Smith. Otherwise the audience might as well leave their brains with the cute girl at the box office.

Before kicking ass and chewing bubblegum, the hero must first be brought down to the level of Joe Sixpack. Your audience lacks wizard robes and ambitious sidekicks. They have regrets, they make foolish judgements, and they occasionally stagger when tiptoeing the hastily sketched line between right and wrong. The protagonist must do likewise if the audience is to empathize with and relate to them. Viewers suspend their disbelief when a freight rig defies physics and flips over lengthwise, but once you throw Jesus in tights on screen to fight crime you’ve lost them. That’s not a real person, and nobody cares about the story if it’s not a real person experiencing it.

Compelling heroes are challenging to hash out. When writing the part of any protagonist though, whether they be wearing a cape or burnt-out bums hungry for some White Castle, enormous care must be taken to make them into someone the audience can get behind. A solid central character can make or break a film. A good guy who only does good things and thinks only good thoughts makes even the most explosion-filled production an exercise in tedium.

It’s hideous! It’s horrible! Such blasphemy, so deplorable. — Cold-hearted Intellectuals

Earlier I posted the script fashioned for my end-of-year motion picture at Vancouver Film School. The finished product has been in the can and uploaded to the world wide web for some time now, but I never bothered to spread the word. But now I’m bothering, and I invite you to enjoy my humble attempt at a musical.

Update: Switched to Vimeo’s sparkly new Universal Player. High five for HTML5.

I was once in a musical. I played every character, including the dog. — Philip Banks

For my final project at Vancouver Film School, I created a short comedic musical titled The Contrivance of Dr. Bromegrass. It tells the tale of a lovable mad scientist who has his medical license revoked after performing unorthodox experiments. He finds himself losing hope in his work until inspiration comes in the form of his idol, Thomas Edison. To gain back the respect of the scientific community, he seeks to come up with the Ultimate Scientific Creation. I went all experimental and included credits at the end. Nobody does that these days.

Now that I’ve ruined the plot, I figure releasing the script won’t cause any more damage. While the film can’t be shown just yet (doing so could make it ineligible for some festivals), I invite you to check out the text version of the movie [PDF].

In the future I reckon I’ll make a post about my experiences making a musical. It was certainly a challenge, but most definitely worth it. Every movie should be a musical.