Thursday, February 02, 2006

Too Many Twists and Asian Cinema…

Back from a two-and-a-half week hiatus… I’ve been busy working on my latest “opus.” My last post mentioned acts one and three were conquered territory... Well... speaking too soon is a character flaw of mine… as I have, now, jettisoned said acts and started anew. Gotta love rewrites, huh?

Ninety pages later (half of which will be tossed into the shredder) I’ve come to the realization that the third act is subdued by too many twists – or big reveals. At this point, the twists feel organic and appropriate for the flow of the story, yet...

Is it possible to put in too many twists into the final minutes/pages? I remember Saw had a few nice WHAMMIES, as did The Usual Suspects and Frailty. This is, of course, relative to each viewer’s movie-going experience, but does anybody have any examples of third act twists which made you feel as if you were being nailed over head with revelation after revelation?

If you haven’t caught onto the Asian film craze, you can start by Netflixing/buying either one, or both, of the following:


I purchased Oldboy on a whim and have enjoyed, at least, four repeat viewings. It follows a man who is locked in a hotel room for fifteen years, only to be released to seek out his captors. It's a dark action extravaganza in the vein of Sin City and the noir video game Max Payne. I hear Hollywood is making a remake, yet I’m not sure if American audiences will be prepared for, or able to digest, its (famous?) twist – which I hear will be kept in the remake.

A Tale Of Two Sisters

The act of jumping from fear while partaking a horror flick has been foreign to me only since Zelda cried out for Rachel in Stephen King’s Pet Semetary; I’ve been a jaded horror fan since. The “jump” returned to me while viewing certain scenes in A Tale Of Two Sisters -- the story of two sisters released from a mental institution, only to return home to a wicked stepmother and emotionally-deficient father.

Whether it be the slow-burn story-telling, great cinematography, or the fuck-with-your-brain phantasmagorical aesthetic of the third act, ATOTS is one for the Netflix queue.