Welcome to “Adventures of a Film Scholar” video interview series.

AFS is a discourse on independent filmmaking and film education. In each episode, Seth Jaret will have an international Skype chat with writer/director/film scholar, Darren Paul Fisher.

Darren is an independent filmmaker (OXV: THe Manual, Popcorn, The Inbetweeners) and senior teaching fellow at Bond University, one of the premiere film programs in the world. Darren is also in post-production on his third feature.

Join them as they discuss writing, directing, editing and the creative process of filmmaking balanced with a scholarly approach and educational perspective on various facets of the medium.

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OK, so OXV: The Manual.

This is a project that I’ll be talking a lot about in future posts. It’s an independent feature that I like to refer to not so much as a “vanity” project as a “sanity” project. (And I’m being deliberately obscure as to what OXV means).

Those who know me know that I’ve made no secret of the fact that for various reasons I’ve been unhappy with my first two features. I make no excuses. The mistakes were mine to make – and I made them – but neither Inbetweeners nor Popcorn are films I wish to be remembered by.

The idea behind OXV: The Manual was to make a film which, successful or not, went some way to redress this shortfall. And therefore keep me sane. If it makes huge money, great. If it is a critical success, great. But ultimately, the goal was pure creative expression… with no compromise. Well, as little compromise as possible.

The great thing about independent film, if you set up the production in the right way, is that you get to make a film that can take risks. If I were to point to one consistent error in my work it’s that I have not been brave enough nor bold enough. So, no more. Meet OXV: The Manual – the world’s first scientific-philosophical romance.

No film ever has enough money or time. No film has a director who makes all the right choices. Of course, the film inevitably will be a somewhat compromised piece, but with this project I wanted to make sure the compromises were the right ones (yes, there is a difference). I’m a great believer in the positive effect of the tension between art and commerce, but there IS a tipping point: a difference between creative compromise and creative fire-fighting. One is about nuance, the other is about forced compromises that mean the film does not work.

The anatomy of OXV: The Manual was thus: I wrote a spec script using the age-old method of writing a film I wanted to see. I like to think of it as the uniquely self-indulgent method (where the unique part is the part that might make it sell): I like plot, I like science, I like romance and I like philosophy, so I mixed them all together. (I also like complex structure, so they’re very mixed up).

I did not write a treatment, a synopsis nor an outline. Well, not for anyone else to read. The pitch was a non-pitch. Potential investors/producers were told: “It’s called The Manual [note, no OXV yet]. In terms of story and audience its somewhere between Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Primer and (500) Days of Summer, a left-field romance set in a not-quite-here-and-now-world...”

And that was it. If they were interested, they could read the full script. That was not me being especially contrary, the script was just not the kind of story that worked well as a “25 words or less” summary. Ultimately, I got lucky: a producer I’d worked with before backed the project and off we went…

And now we’ve nearly arrived. The film will be finished in the middle of the year. And if you’re interested, yes, compromises were made, but they feel like the right compromises (although, as of this writing, the compromises are not over and there may yet be a sting in the tail). Very soon we will see whether the film is unique or simply self-indulgent… but either way, at least it’s my film (as risky and brave as I could make it) and I still have my sanity. For the moment.

*In future posts, I’ll discuss the evolution of the project through the shoot and post production as the shooting method was unconventional and the project has evolved much further as a creative enterprise than initially planned. At some point, I’ll also get to what “OXV” means.

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So what’s it about?

This is a question that I pose to my students. A very short, but – in my opinion – the ultimate make-or-break question as to whether a script (or the resulting film) will actually work. I don’t mean make money, I don’t mean be a critical success (both of those outcomes have many other contributing factors), I mean work on the raw, unadulterated, nuts-and-bolts STORYTELLING level.

Most of what I do in academia is to flag this to students and help them find their voice. I have taught at many places across the globe and no matter how old the students are or where they are from, “What’s it about?” is always the question that causes the most problems. What’s it about means “What’s it really about?” When you’re starting out it’s not even so much about solving the question, it’s understanding (and feeling) why the question should be asked in the first place.

Let’s clarify. In the professional world, I find it a kind of coded question. Anyone with any experience as a writer or director should know what is being asked. Not plot – not “it’s about a fighter pilot who gets up in the morning and then…” but the underlying creative voice of the piece. My preferred way of expressing it is theme and point-of-view. This column is my soap box, so let’s nail my opinions to the mast big-time. Should films have a message? Not particularly. Should they have a cohesive and detectable point-of-view? Absolutely.

If a professional writer or director interprets the question as one about plot – let’s just say, ALARM BELLS RING. Now it could be a breakdown in communication, but usually it means they do not understand the basic building blocks of film storytelling – what makes a film a FILM, and not just a series of events one after the other. And thus, the film is doomed.*

The terminology is problematic here, as when you use words like ‘theme’ it makes you sound like films should all be lofty and worthy. Far from it. American Pie has a cohesive theme and point of view – it’s what gives it heart. If I can for one moment use the metaphor of a house, theme and point-of-view are the cement. No one ever buys a building because the bricks are held together in an elegant fashion (“Man, those breeze blocks are stuck together so well, I must have that duplex!”) but without it, the house falls down.

Different writers, teachers, script-gurus all refer to theme and point-of-view in different ways: “controlling idea,” “throughline,” “creative voice.” To put my scholar’s hat on for a moment, ultimately it all goes back to Lajos Egri’s “The Art of Dramatic Writing,” where you distill your idea into one sentence. But what that sentence must contain is theme and point-of-view. There is something about making that sentence work grammatically that forces you to face the core of your story – or lack of one.

So yes, the “What’s it about?” question can take a very long time to answer. But I make this promise to everyone: once you do find an answer, it will tell you EVERYTHING. And I mean everything. What to write. How to cast. Where to put the camera.

Unfortunately what it won’t do is guarantee you a good film. That takes the usual annoying mix of talent and luck. It will just give you the chance to make the best film that you can: one that works as a story.

*As a story, but not necessarily at the box-office – that’s where genre and stars come in handy.

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I’m currently sinking in a sea of paper and ideas. Not for the next screenplay, but for my PhD. Not that I have yet started or been accepted to a PhD program… there is so much to do before we get to that stage.

Depending how you look at it, I am a filmmaker who is also an academic or an academic who is also a filmmaker. Part of the reality of existing in two worlds is that you must keep developing in those two worlds. To become the best academic I can be, a PhD is the natural path, but as with making a feature, it is not a straightforward, well-signposted path. Like a screenplay, there is much agonizing, research and conceptual fine-tuning to be done before embarking on the actual typing.

So what precisely is a PhD? For those of you not in academia, a PhD is the course of study that results in the graduate being called a “Doctor.” It stands for Doctor of Philosophy, but unless someone shouts “Is there a Doctor in the house?” and they’re in desperate need of an academic consultation, it’s probably still best to keep quiet. A PhD is essentially a research project which culminates in an 80,000-100,000 word thesis which – and here’s the fun part – “adds to the general knowledge bank of the world.” So no pressure.

What often happens is that the writer then becomes THE authority on their particular subject. Many PhD dissertations end up being printed as bona fide buy-at-Amazon books. So your subject area has to be very specific: you must either uncover an area that has not yet been examined or you must explore a well-examined area in a new way.

You do not simply sign up to start a PhD. Before you start, you must, in this order: (1) Research and pick a topic. (2) Research and find a suitable Supervisor. (3) Get the Supervisor to agree to be your Supervisor. (4) Apply to the PhD program at the Supervisor’s university. (5) Get accepted.

I am currently at (1). It is likely that I won’t get to (2) for three more months. And I currently have 27 possible topics.

You have to be very careful when you pick a topic – a PhD takes anywhere between three to ten years to complete. Yes, a potential DECADE of study. So I need to pick a topic that I can imagine doing (and still find interesting) in 2020. A lot of my topics involve (a) storytelling in the transmedia age or (b) non-linear narration (think Pulp Fiction or Memento). The problem with (a) is that it’s such a quick-changing landscape that trying to complete such a long project leaves you open to the “building-a-house-on-shifting-sand” scenario. The problem with (b) is that my mind keeps going back to (a).

Once I have eventually narrowed down my topic, I can research and find a supervisor who is right for that topic, e.g. a specialist in transmedia or narration. No institution has the same set of specialists so this will have a huge impact on where I study. The supervisor is a key player in your PhD. They will be your mentor, and not in a casual “they will mentor you through the process” sense, but in the mythic Obi-Wan/Gandalf sense: they are your Mentor – your guide through often treacherous waters and their decisions and skill (or lack thereof) will have a significant impact on your life.

Once you have found this elusive and well-chosen individual they have to be (i) available to supervise you, (ii) willing to supervise you and (iii) their university has to allow them to supervise you (they can’t be too busy with other responsibilities). Once you’ve nailed all that down… THEN YOU APPLY.

If you have the necessary qualifications (typically a four year Bachelors degree, upper-second class minimum or a Masters), you MIGHT be accepted. Then the actual work begins. Three years full-time or five to seven years part-time. If not, go back to (2) and start again.

Plenty of time to keep you posted…

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