by Blake Snyder
Midpoint: The “stakes are raised” and the Fun and Games end when we meet Andy Garcia and learn that casino owner Terry Benedict is robotic, ruthless, and feared by all. And if that weren’t enough, we now have the complication of … The Girl.
B Story: We thought up till now that this was only about money. Then Tess (Julia Roberts) walks in. And though Julia’s actual walk is a little clunky, her entrance raises the degree of difficulty of the heist. We learn Julia is dating Andy; she left George while he was in prison and found a new guy — this guy. When Brad discovers that Julia is involved, George admits there is more than money at stake. Now the real theme is revealed in a reprise of their earlier conversation; George admits why he’s doing this. “I lost something,” he tells Brad. Was it something shaped like a penis?! Well, yes, that too. But now they’re stealing gold and a girl. Which will George choose if forced?
Bad Guys Close In: Whether connected to Julia or not, “road apples” start popping up everywhere. The electric whammy that “Basher” (Don Cheadle) was planning to use is kaput. On top of that, because George can’t stop running into Julia at the casino buffet, the hotel has “red-flagged” him. Meanwhile, Carl is looking none too good. Is his heart scare linked to the scam? And is Andy the sucker, or are we?
All Is Lost: As the heist unfolds, there are more near misses. When Carl has an apparent heart attack, we think he’s dead. Good heist film that this is, the “whiff of death” is fake: Carl’s condition is part of the plan, as is George’s zooming Julia.
Dark Night of the Soul: Literally a dark night as all the lights go out in Las Vegas, thanks to Don — and not only is the town in the dark, so are we. What is going on?
Break into Three: When Brad calls Andy and lets him know the casino’s being robbed, we enter Act Three. Julia is now included in the plan. By going along, she guarantees the heist and lets us know she may be part of the prize. A and B stories cross nicely.
Finale: Under Andy’s watchful eye, the gang disguised as SWAT cops exits the vault with the loot. In a final irony, Andy chooses money over Julia. By picking gold, he loses both. George is arrested and the guys take a last look at the hotel they robbed: phallic imagery erect once more in the fountain of the Bellagio.
Final Image: Out of prison, George reunites with Julia. They now have two rings of gold — and George is a man once more.
MARIA FULL OF GRACE (2004)
Sometimes the journey is one the hero must take alone. In many biographical movies, such as Ray and Capote, and personal quests, like About Schmidt, Garden State, and Cast Away, he may have allies, and even find friends along the way, but at the heart of the trip is a lesson he can only learn by himself.
One of the better examples of the GF sub-genre called the “Solo Fleece” is writer-director Joshua Marston’s Maria Full of Grace. A foreign language Sundance winner, it is a textbook demonstration of the BS2 and of the importance of “primal.” It tells the story of a Colombian girl, pregnant and unemployed, who takes a job as a drug mule. Maria will leave her small town and dying hopes, and take a chance on escape by ingesting pellets of heroin and smuggling them on a treacherous journey to America.
When we talk about “primal,” this is one of the more practical demonstrations of why thinking stories through on this basic level is so vital: On a low budget like this — with no money for special effects, chase scenes, and big stars — what is most compelling is identifying with the immediate needs of a hero we can root for. It is a lesson the studios might take into account when running the numbers on the next Lara Croft sequel they’re considering. And as an example of a “Golden Fleece,” none is more riveting than this simple but highly charged indie.
GF Type: Solo Fleece
GF Cousins: Barry Lyndon, Coal Miner’s Daughter, About Schmidt, Capote, Garden State, Cast Away, Ray, Walk the Line, Vanity Fair, Cold Mountain
MARIA FULL OF GRACE
Written by Joshua Marston
Opening Image: Maria (Catalina Sandino Moreno) and her friend Blanca (Yenny Paola Vega) wait for the early bus to go to work. We’re in a small town in Colombia, but the routine of family and job is universally understood.
Theme Stated: After work, Maria makes out with her dullard boyfriend, Juan (Wilson Guerrero). Maria sees the roof of the building they’re kissing beneath and says she wants to go “up there.” “You can come down the way you went up,” Juan says. “Alone.” Maria yearns for more. Will she get it?
Set-Up: Maria works in a flower factory, stripping the thorns off long-stemmed roses. She and her friend Blanca survive by trading gossip about the cute boys who work there. We meet one of these, Felipe (Charles Albert Patiño), who will become important. At home, Maria’s sister is raising a baby alone, the father long gone. The family survives thanks to Maria’s contribution of her pay. How do you say “Save the Cat!” in Spanish? Maria’s common sense worldview, sacrificing for her family, and inner drive for more makes us root for her. When Maria gets sick at work, her boss yells at her; her family does too when she tells them she’s quitting. All around her, the future is clear and it’s a dead end. This is a definitive Stasis = Death moment in which we sense the hero must risk change — or “die.”
Catalyst: Maria goes to a party and sees Felipe. They dance in front of Juan. It’s clear there’s a problem with her low-wattage lover. The next day Maria breaks the news to him that she’s pregnant. Juan offers to marry her. She refuses.
Debate: What will she do? The fear of turning out like her sister, with an illegitimate baby and a stolid life, offers very little for Maria. And we know she wants better.
Break into Two: Felipe takes Maria on his motorcycle to the city Bogotá, where his Boss offers her a job as a drug mule. It’s illegal and dangerous. By taking the money the Boss offers, she accepts the mission and enters Act Two.
B Story: While waiting for the mission to begin, Maria meets Lucy (Guilied Lopez), another drug mule she saw when she met the Boss. Lucy is a pretty and sophisticated city girl. A classic B story character, she is the “funhouse-mirror” version of Maria’s own sister and her opposite in every way. Lucy will be Maria’s guide to this new world. This is also the “love story” where the theme of the movie will be discussed. Maria’s yearning for more will be raised to yet higher planes through Lucy.
Fun and Games: Maria’s training begins. Lucy coaches Maria on the art of swallowing grapes whole, a skill she will need to ingest the heroin pellets. Lucy has done this before and can show Maria many tricks. Maria can’t tell anyone. Then Blanca breaks the news she’s a mule, too. The day arrives when Maria must ingest the heroin pellets and be readied for her trip to the US. Maria hears a last warning from the Boss: If any of the pellets go missing, Maria’s family may be harmed. Maria gets on the plane. Not only are Lucy and Blanca onboard, but a fourth woman too. The flight is perilous; Lucy is ill, and Maria loses some of the pellets she must re-swallow. This is the crux of a movie about drug running: the fear, danger, and grim details of the journey.
Midpoint: The midpoint is a “false victory.” After being pulled aside by US customs agents, Maria is spared being x-rayed because she is pregnant, and thus can’t be exposed as a drug smuggler and arrested. Unlike the fourth woman, who is detained, Maria’s free to go. Now Maria, Blanca, and Lucy are met by their drug handlers. Lucy is very sick as both A and B stories’ “stakes are raised.”
Bad Guys Close In: With the drug run over, real problems start. Kept in a dive motel until they defecate the heroin pellets, the women are guarded by thugs. In the middle of the night, the men take Lucy away. Maria and Blanca find blood in the bathroom. Scared, they steal the drugs and run. Now real bad guys are pursuing the two women, who are out of their element in a foreign land. Maria takes refuge with Lucy’s sister, Carla (Patricia Rae). She will be Maria’s new mentor. Carla puts Maria up and introduces her to Don Fernando (Orlando Tobon), a stateside troubleshooter for illegal immigrants needing assistance.
All Is Lost: Don Fernando offers
to help Maria find work: Can she sew? Maria sees a man stripping roses on the street and realizes the US is just like Colombia: the problems of job, family, and paying rent are the same. And when Maria learns Lucy was murdered and the pellets cut out of her stomach, the “whiff of death” hits her.
Dark Night of the Soul: After seeing a sonogram of her baby, Maria talks with Carla about her life in America. Like Maria, Carla is pregnant, but she has a hardworking husband and dreams of a bright future. What will Maria do?
Break into Three: When Carla learns Lucy is dead, and Maria was involved, A and B stories cross as she kicks the girls out of her house. Maria and Blanca decide to confront the bad guys.
Finale: Maria and Blanca surrender the drug pellets to the thugs and Maria bravely insists they get their pay. Maria covers the cost of Lucy’s funeral, makes amends to Carla, and both she and Blanca go to the airport to get on a plane home.
Final Image: Blanca boards the plane, but Maria decides to take her chances in the US. She wants more for her child and will stay. A true Golden Fleece end, it isn’t the outcome Maria wanted, but it’s the one that changes her life. In a final image, a now proud and independent woman walks toward a new future. Synthesis! The hero has transformed her world.
Eddie Murphy realizes he’s had one too many Krispy Kremes in The Nutty Professor. His dream of being thin is nigh, as is the lesson of every “Out of the Bottle” tale: The real “magic” is being yourself.
Magic. That’s what movies are made of! And movies that specialize in magic are among the most popular of all time.
There is something dream-like about these tales that immediately resonates for us. Perhaps that’s why the genre I’ve named “Out of the Bottle” indulges our fantasies and offers the most delightful of escapes.
This grouping gets its moniker from the legend of Aladdin, in which a genie is summoned “out of the bottle” and all manner of wishes are granted with one fell poof! Stories using magic are found in every culture, across the ages. And whether they’re about flying carpets, magic beans, or witch’s spells, all share this recurring warning that is the real lesson:
Be careful what you wish for!
Deep in the human psyche is both the fantasy of being able to, say, fly — and the deeper-seated knowledge that we can’t. Not yet.
We long to be better than human to overcome what holds us back, but secretly know that being human is a pretty good thing.
Inevitably, in these films is an Act Three beat in which the hero rejects the magic that’s been loaned to him, and solves his problems without assistance — which gives us a clue why the OOTB genre resonates. Life is good, these stories tell us … the real magic comes from enjoying what is already ours.
The variety of “Bottles” — and the many kinds of magic that spill out from them — is amazing! Take a look at the “Body Switch Bottle,” stories where gender, age, or species are swapped to give each participant a lesson in gratitude — as seen in Big, 13 Going on 30, and The Shaggy Dog. Also note the “Thing Bottle” where elixirs, formulas, or totems bring about a desired transformation in one’s life, such as the wish to be attractive to the opposite sex (as in Love Potion #9), to be slim and sexy (The Nutty Professor), or to have a magic remote control that can speed up your life (Click).
In addition, the OOTB family includes the “Angel Bottle,” those tales of special beings that magically appear, such as Oh, God! and its twin Bruce Almighty, Cocoon, and The Love Bug series (for which I co-wrote, with partner Colby Carr, the first draft of the most recent Herbie incarnation). There is also the “Curse Bottle,” films such as What Women Want and Liar Liar, whereby the hero suddenly finds himself saddled with magic he may not have asked for, but that comes with a lesson he soon learns he needs. And finally we get the “Surreal Bottle,” films with those OOTB premisi that change the world by other kinds of magic like a time warp or pseudo-science, where the hero becomes part of a parallel universe — seen in films like Groundhog Day, Pleasantville, and The Butterfly Effect.
In all OOTB films, the “magic” is simply acquired and the “how” quickly forgotten. These include such magic-gaining faves as: knocks on the head (Peggy Sue Got Married), enchanted vending machines (Big), Nordic visors with Tex Avery-like powers (The Mask), and even requests by little boys so their fathers won’t fib anymore (Liar Liar). The audience excuses the simplicity of the way these powers are dished out because filmmakers suspend our disbelief once, and thereafter stick to the logic of how the magic is granted that — if we screenwriters make clear from the start — will let us get away with one “leap of faith” per movie.
All OOTB tales, as in the previous genres we’ve discussed, have three handy elements that put them in this category. These include: (1) a “wish,” (2) a “spell,” and (3) a “lesson.”
Shall we take a look at these?
Your wish is my command!
Making the hero deserve the magic that is bestowed on him is what makes the “wish” in any OOTB story more plausible. There is a school of thought that there are only two kinds of stories: an “empowerment tale” about an underdog who needs help, and a “comeuppance tale” about a bigshot who needs a lesson. Nowhere is this bifurcation (a $45 word) more clear. Whether the hero of an OOTB is a Cinderella type who makes the wish himself — as seen in movies like 13 Going on 30 and Big — or some un-evolved, smart-aleck deserving a lesson in humility who has the wish thrust upon him in a “comeuppance tale” (like Liar Liar, Shallow Hal, and What Women Want), the dynamics are the same: The hero dearly needs to be the recipient of whatever magic he will be granted.
The actual “spell” that’s cast — no matter how it’s bestowed — must be unique, offering a take on the OOTB we’ve never seen before, and also have limits. So when we screenwriters come up with magic, we need to create a set of boundaries called The Rules. Together, the magic and its limits are a one-two punch. In Bruce Almighty, Morgan Freeman says it right up front when he awards Jim Carrey his godly powers: “Let me explain the rules.”
Being careful with The Rules is a tough task — but great stuff happens when we stick to them. Look at Love Potion #9, where two scientists (one is Sandra Bullock) invent a formula that makes them catnip for the opposite sex. Not only is there a time limit for each dose of the potion, the dose-ee has to speak to the person he or she wants to enchant. Once set up, screenwriter-director Dale Launer holds to this rule, and gives us situations where it’s a handicap. To not take The Rules seriously is sloppy screenwriting. It lets studio executives get out their red pens and start making “notes.” So let’s not give ’em the chance, eh?
Making sure our audience buys into the magic is key. We’re asking them to trust the spell is possible, so if we break our contract with the audience by bending The Rules, we run the risk of losing them. This is a little menace I call Double Mumbo Jumbo, which piles one empowerment on top of another and makes the story fuzzy. 13 Going on 30 is an example of DMJ by using two bits of magic: (1) sending a 13-year-old into the future, and (2) turning that tween into a 30-year-old. Once done, the writers must deal with two sets of “jokes”: (1) 1980 person sent to 2004 jokes, and (2) 13-year-old in a 30-year-old body jokes. But piling on the magic does not make “Big with a girl” twice as good.
The most important part of this whole caboodle is the same as it is for any story that we tell: How is the hero transformed by this adventure? In the case of movies that use magic, the “lesson” the hero learns is the realization that what he had at the beginning of the story is what he’s wanted all along. Coming full circle is what most OOTB films are really about. Like existential homing pigeons, heroes of magic tales return to base with their eyes opened. But had it not been for this flight of fantasy, that life-affirming change would never have occurred.
A big part of learning the lesson, and one you will now see in every OOTB movie, is the Act Three beat where the hero learns to do it without the magic — a key phrase in my box of tools whenever I develop an OOTB. It�
�s Dumbo without the feather! In Bruce Almighty, it’s only after Jim Carrey (as weatherman Bruce Nolan) loses his girlfriend, gets his archrival fired, and quits his job at the end of Act Two that he becomes willing to change. The part of his godly powers he hasn’t picked up on yet is helping others without getting anything in return. When Jim finally understands that, he receives everything he always wanted — the same things he had all along!
Many Out-of-the-Bottle movies feature a character called the Confidant, an ally whom the hero can trust with his secret. There is a practical screenwriting reason for this: The hero has to tell someone — and us — what’s happening. Yet the Confidant can only watch the hero have fun, often held back by a lack of faith in the “magic.” He might even use his knowledge of it to gain an unfair advantage or harm the hero at a crucial moment. Those deserving of the benefits of the magic are the only ones who can learn from it and, in the end, that’s what all OOTB tales are about: the power of believing in yourself.
WHAT’S MAGIC ABOUT YOUR BOTTLE?
Whether your hero is a comeuppance character who needs a lesson, or a Cinderella type for whom magic is a blessing, the model OOTB film must have the following elements:
A “wish” asked for by the hero or granted by another, and the clearly seen need to be delivered from the ordinary.
