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We wish life imitated art.
Let's face it - there is NOTHING like a good "root for the underdog" movie. We want to see the sweet, quirky guy get the pretty girl. We want to see the modern-day hero (cop, fireman, marine) take on - and defeat - the baddest baddie, or the costumed hero take down the super-powered menace to the planet. We want to see the struggling athlete or team of misfits (some of them so desperate that they've recruited animals or let Whoopi coach them) win the big game when no one thought they should even be playing. We want to see the historic legend make our world a better place.
And, of course, there's nothing like a fabulous finish. When the chips are down and it looks like we were wrong all along to believe in this person, the rally cry comes, the adrenaline gives one last pump and triumph is imminent. The winning touchdown; the shot at the buzzer; the final swing of the sword; the last two teenage campers dealing the death blow to the maniac who chopped up all their friends; the golden retriever kicking the winning soccer goal. All that's left is the victory dance.
Hollywood loves these movies. Audiences love these movies. I can remember reading a production company's criteria for what they were looking for, and the quote was "We want someone the audience can root for."
How difficult is it to write a movie like that? I would think any real writer could write one in a week. Stallone wrote Rocky in one night, and it is the ULTIMATE root for someone movie. Why was it so easy? Because it was Stallone's life. It's all of our lives. We are living a potential victory, struggling to overcome our shortcomings and one day bask in the glory of triumph. We've all practiced our Oscar speech, sung into our hairbrushes and/or answered questions from the fictitious interviewer like the kid in The Commitments. It's a good thing we live in L.A. and the people in the next cars are so engrossed in their own insanities that they pay no attention to us.
Unfortunately, life doesn't imitate art unless we make it so. Art, it turns out, imitates life. Life was here first. My god - they're even making movies about reality shows. That's art imitating life while it imitates life imitating art! It's a 110 minutes of the proverbial snake swallowing its own tail.
We who live in the land of dreams know all about wishes for life to imitate art. Actually, I'm willing to bet that just about everybody does. Housewives wish they were soap opera characters, and 9-to-5'ers wish they were Hugh Hefner or Speed Racer. Little girls want to be fairies and princesses, and little boys ride their bicycles with fury and pretend they're racing BMX or NASCAR.
But, life kicks us in the ass to wake us up. James Cameron can build a machine that travels through time and kills people, but the Mars rover that NASA built barely moves (rolls) 30 yards a day. The Battlebots built from old lawnmower parts move better! By the way, if you're ever in the Houston area, stop by and visit NASA. It's located in a residential neighborhood, and, truly, nothing says "white trash" like having a bunch of busted up rockets on your front lawn.
Since our art imitates our lives, I've realized that no characters I've ever created have been smokers. It's just not a part of my world. I realized this recently because one of the characters in my new script is quitting smoking. In every script I've ever written, I could see that one of the characters was clearly ME, and it wasn't always the best character. In the real world, I definitely hope to triumph over the evil Pile of Bills, get past the Temporary Setback that reared its ugly head in the form of Unexpected Car Repair, and finally adapt to my new life by mastering Fear of Success and Crazy Kitten.
Such is life.
By the way, if anyone knows where I can find a working kitten brain, please e-mail me, because apparently the kitten I got didn't come with one. I haven't actually opened up her furry little head (yet), but I'm assuming that any creature with a brain would know not to stand in a tub of butter.
I smell an animated feature...
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