Save the Cat Goes to the Movies (31 page)

The rules of this story are constants, so if you rigidly adhere to my doctrine you’ll see how all sagas of the “I” kind have: (1) a “group,” (2) a “choice,” and (3) a “sacrifice.”

There’s also a moral to most of these: Look before you join!

The number one indicator of an Institutionalized tale is: It’s about the many. Anytime words like “ensemble,” “group,” or “multiple stories” show up on your yellow pad, you know what genre you’re in. Often these concern work situations or closed societies with their own rules, ethics, and bonds of loyalty. I love learning about unique jobs, and movies like
Pushing Tin
(about air traffic controllers),
Tin Men
(about aluminum-siding salesmen), and
Boogie Nights
(about ’70s-era adult film stars) give us an up-close look at the inner workings of these occupations.

There are a variety of characters that appear in tales of the “I” kind. One is the
Brando
, who stands opposed to the system by his very nature and reveals its flaws. Named for Marlon Brando in
The Wild One
(who, when asked what he is rebelling against, says: “Whaddya got?”), anti-heroes like Donald Sutherland in
M*A*S*H
, Jack Nicholson in
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
, and Kevin Spacey in
American Beauty
exist solely to reveal the system’s flaws. In many an
“I” tale there is also a
Na’if
who may be the hero — eventually! He is the character the audience identifies with most — he’s us — for we know nothing of the rules, like Jane Fonda in
9 to 5
, Tom Hulce in
Animal House
, and even Al Pacino in
The Godfather
, who is on the fringes and still a “virgin” until he is drawn into the group.

The “choice” for either or both these characters is the ongoing dramatic conflict in these tales. “Will he stick with the group or quit?” we ask of “
Naif
Ray Liotta in
Goodfellas
, as the pros and cons of being “one of the guys” are shown to us. Through Ray, we must ask if we would be able to join in the tribal ceremonies that accompany his rise in the family — from “busting his cherry,” when Ray is first arrested as a teen, to the dangers of going against the boss by running drugs, to the ultimate act of either betrayal or sanity (depending on your point of view) when Ray decides to turn state’s evidence and rat out the men who were his brothers. Many times as the story progresses, the choice becomes harder, more difficult to understand, and the rules of the group — especially in regard to loyalty — more difficult to adhere to. The ongoing “choice” tells us what we know about groups: Either the rules are crazy, or we are for questioning them!

Another “I” character is the
Company Man
, an automaton entrenched in the system. Oddly, many of these characters suffer from sexual dysfunction … and insanity: Robert Duvall in
M*A*S*H
, Denzel Washington in
Training Day
, Humphrey Bogart in
The Caine Mutiny
, Jack Nicholson in
A Few Good Men
, and Louise Fletcher in
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
, display conformity that is sterility.

Finally, a decision must be made in an Institutionalized story, and it always comes down to: them or me? This is the “sacrifice,” the act of surrendering our individuality to the group or destroying the institution when it proves to be less than advertised. You can see the result pretty clearly in the ending of
Goodfellas
— and even in comedies like
Animal House
with its final “Eat Me!” conflagration at the parade, or the inferno that ends
Office Space
literally burning down corporate headquarters! Often it is the sacrifice of the individual that is the finale of many such tales, and the cautionary
end point to what we know about joining. Look at the endings of
Godfather 2, American Beauty
, and
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
, as these heroes’ almost identical blank expressions tell us that their “sacrifice” has been … suicide.

The real lesson, and what these tales teach, is the peril of not paying attention to that voice inside. Like all good stories, this genre offers a deeper message: Our orders come from a higher source! Not tradition, not our parents, not the caveman in charge of the group. We who listen to our inner spirit are propelled by a power that can overcome all.

Tales of the many, of group dynamics, and stories about trusting the system — or overthrowing it — are some of the most primal ones we tell. Whenever a writer pitches me a story about a group, I always ask: “What would you do in this circumstance?” How long can you, the individual, believe in or trust others to have your best interests at heart?

If we look at our own experience, we can see how often in life the individual gets thrown overboard. These stories are our way of fighting back, and giving those who believe in the rights of the one as much as the rights of the many, a template for action. If you have a story that defies the rules, write it! Even if the rules you defy are found in this very book! “All screenwriters are bullheads,” said a famous author we all know and love.

And aren’t we glad they are!

Are you convinced of your loyalty to the tenets of this cautionary tale? Then join us by knowing all its dictates:

1. Every story in this category is about a “group” — a family, an organization, or a business that is unique.
   
2. The story is a “choice,” the ongoing conflict pitting a “Brando” or a “Naif” vs. the system’s “Company Man.”
   
3. Finally, a “sacrifice” must be made, leading to one of three endings: Join, burn it down … or commit “suicide.”
   

If you want to write anything about the many, take a look at these tales of the “I” kind.

The good news is: You win the Oscar
^®
for Best Screenplay. The bad news is: The movie your script is based on so veers from what you wrote, it is unrecognizable. Sound impossible? Nope. It’s what happened to Ring Lardner, Jr. for
M*A*S*H.
And yet in the hands of director Robert Altman, who hijacked both Lardner’s script and the production of the film, a work of genius — not to mention a huge TV franchise — was born.

For our purposes, it is a great example of the “Military Institution” tale about “regular Army clowns” trying to quash the individual. At first, finding its structure seems a fool’s errand. Altman’s improv style and the episodic nature of his films so go against the rules of structure, they seem not to have any!

But look again.

Altman uses the same storytelling tools we all do, and the familiar landmarks of Midpoint, Break into Two and Three, and Finale are here — just deconstructed as a jazz musician might a popular tune. Held together by the camp’s PA announcements (a device Altman found in editing), the film is the story of a MASH-unit surgeon, Donald Sutherland, who challenges a series of “Company Men” such as Robert Duvall and Sally Kellerman. The former is sent to the loony bin, the latter brought over to “our” side in perfect Act Three Synthesis.

I Type: Military Institution

I Cousins:
Breaker Morant, Gallipoli, Paths of Glory, Platoon, A Few Good Men, Taps, The Caine Mutiny, Top Gun, Full Metal Jacket, We Were Soldiers

M*A*S*H

Screenplay by
Ring Lardner, Jr.
From the novel by
Richard Hooker

Opening Image:
The movie’s theme song, “Suicide Is Painless,” is heard as a military helicopter, with a wounded soldier strapped to a stretcher alongside, floats through the air. It lands at a war zone hospital that will be our setting. “Suicide” is the decision of those who surrender by choosing “the group.”

Theme Stated:
Meet Hawkeye Pierce (Donald Southerland). Waiting for a ride to a MASH (Mobile Army Surgical Hospital) unit, he’s told by an official: “Just because you’re a captain, don’t think you run the joint.” Who runs the joint? That’s our theme. Hawkeye’s iconoclast whistle tells us he’s like his namesake, hero of James Fenimore Cooper’s
The Deerslayer.

Set-Up:
“And then there was Korea …” To a war movie march, a
crawl
sets up the fact it’s the Korean War, a tipping point in America’s response to war generally. In charge of the MASH unit, Colonel Blake (Roger Bowen) and Radar (Gary Burghoff) wait for the new doctor, not realizing the “enlisted man” in their Mess Tent is Donald, who has removed his Captain’s bars. At Minute 7, he meets Duke (Tom Skerritt), a fellow surgeon, and makes a beeline for the nurses. Everything is Army: silverware, regulations, even sex play is all according to rules. But not for long.

Catalyst:
At Minute 12, Donald and Tom are ushered to their quarters and meet Major Frank Burns (Robert Duvall), teaching a Korean boy to read the Bible. In any other movie, this character would be applauded, but being a typical Brando, Donald suspects Robert from the jump. At Minute 17, Donald requests a roommate change and a new doctor: “We need a chest cutter.” He is promised Robert will be out of “his” tent in 24 hours.

Debate:
Will Donald get his way? And will the MASH get a better surgeon? It’s the Army after all, and the conditions are hellish.

Break into Two:
At Minute 20, Donald is pulled from a married nurse to meet his new roommate and fellow surgeon. “Trapper” John McIntyre (Elliott Gould) doesn’t speak — until Donald offers him a martini and Elliott whips out his own jar of olives! A match made in heaven. At Minute 25, Donald finally recognizes Elliott. They have a shared past as both played football in college (a foreshadowing of the film’s finale) and now have a shared future as well — and plans to get rid of incompetent doctors like Robert.

B Story:
At Minute 27, Major Margaret O’Houlihan (Sally Kellerman) arrives. She is “regular Army” and immediately hates Donald and he her. It is their battle through which we will discuss the theme. Sally will have the biggest arc and be the way we chart how Donald is doing in his quest to de-Army the Army.

Fun and Games (Part I):
In a movie with mostly trailer moments, this first batch begins as camp cut-ups Donald and Elliott grab martinis and nurses in an effort to stave off the inhumanity of their blood-spurting surgical sessions. When Robert makes a kid (that’s Bud Cort!) think he killed a patient, Elliott decks the talentless doctor. At Minute 37, Elliott is elected Chief Surgeon, and at Minute 38, Sally and Robert write a complaint letter. Now the two camps are formed … and one draws closer as Robert and Sally negotiate sex. During this session, “Hot Lips” is born when a PA microphone catches the couple in the throes of passion. Next day, by egging on the Bible-thumping doctor, Donald causes Robert to go nuts and get hauled away in a strait jacket.

Midpoint:
With Robert banished, a new problem arises … or doesn’t. The camp dentist has sex trouble when he fails to perform. Thinking he’s homosexual, a badge of shame in 1952, “Painless” (John Schuck) decides to kill himself. Assisted by the gang, complete with a match shot of “The Last Supper,” he is cured in a “false
victory” over death when he sleeps with a departing nurse at 1 Hour 5 Minutes.

Bad Guys Close In:
Now in charge, the boys expand their good deeds and face more criticism. They operate on a prisoner of war and take blood from a sleeping Colonel Blake. And in a B Story “false victory,” they strip Hot Lips of her last bit of dignity when they expose Sally in the showers. “This is an insane asylum!” she yells. Later in Fun and Games (Part 2), Donald and Elliott go to Tokyo and take their golf clubs, intent on getting in some R&R between operations. Joking they are the “Pros from Dover,” they best another Army “clown” — an officer who doesn’t think their act is funny — to save a US soldier’s illegitimate baby.

All Is Lost:
Returning from Tokyo, the boys find Tom and Sally together — she’s coming around. But in a false “All Is Lost,” news comes that a higher-up is visiting in response to Sally’s complaint letter. In another movie, this would signal the potential “death” of Donald’s anti-military run.

Break into Three:
Instead, at 1 Hour 33 Minutes, the General challenges the MASH to a football game. As Sally organizes the nurses into cheerleaders, A and B stories cross, and Donald concocts a plan: They will get a “ringer.”

Finale
: There is no reason why this football game finale should or can work, but it does. Somehow, the MASH unit’s anti-establishment team vs. the General’s Patton-style team finalizes the conflict brewing all along. The MASH squad, with a “Booster Rocket” (Fred Williamson as “Spearchucker” Jones), represents the underdogs — and when they win, as Sally cheers, we win. All celebrate back in camp.

Final Image:
Donald is called home, and as he breaks the news to Tom in surgery, we realize he hasn’t changed a thing. His “sacrifice” is he did nothing. “They” won. The madness of war goes on. He is just no longer part of it.

Torn between wanting to belong and the need to “do the right thing,” what is a more apt description of any dilemma of the “I” type than that found at the heart of writer/director Spike Lee’s critic’s fave. Featuring an all-star cast including such “unknowns” (at the time) as Martin Lawrence and Rosie Perez, and standout performances from veteran actors Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, the film’s about the pull of the group versus listening to the “little voice” inside us all.

At the center of the debate is Mookie (Spike Lee), poised between boyhood and manhood, old family and new family, peace (symbolized by Martin Luther King) and war (as represented by Malcolm X). He has loyalty to his proud boss and mentor Sal (Danny Aiello), but fears Sal’s sons and an uncertain future.

On the hottest day of the year, a Bed-Stuy block will erupt in racial hatred. Despite the calming voices of Da Mayor (Davis) and Mother Sister (Dee), the friction creates sparks and finally fire. Setting it into motion are radical views represented by Buggin’ Out and Radio Raheem. Told to “do the right thing,” it will be loyalty to himself that changes Mookie’s life.