The words that make me as giddy as a little kid are: “your work was selected to be included in the festival.” Yesterday, I was so pumped up that I forgot about all the terrible things going on in our country. I instantly became childlike and danced one of those weird, awkward dances in the living room. Why? Because my screenplay STELLE BLUE: The Forgotten Crime was selected as an official entry for an action film festival.

Festivals have various benefits like having your work reviewed by Hollywood producers, agents, managers, etc. Other festivals pull out wads of cash prizes. Some festivals lead to option agreements and production contracts. A few festival winners even qualify for submission into the Oscars.

I wrote the first draft of Steele Blue a long time ago. It was a good action/buddy cop story with several really cool scenes. Years later, I tried my hand at writing the novel. This was a rich experience that helped me realize how different the skills are for writing books and scripts.

After getting my MFA in Creative Writing, I decided to pull the STEELE BLUE screenplay off of the shelf and do a complete rewrite based on my new knowledge and increased skills. While much of what I learned came from classes and peer reviews, I had also been connected with a top Hollywood writer that spent his career writing top television cop shows and TV movies for the major networks. It was a privilege to learn techniques and industry secrets from him.

Once COVID-19 hit, I converted the entire book to screenplay for my first draft. It turned out to be three hours long and I needed to cut 70 pages. The first set of cuts were easy, as I took out everything that wouldn’t work on screen. I then determined what the key plot drivers were and established the beats necessary for a great visual action film.

The next step was determining what subplots to keep. The book had plenty of room for numerous plot points, but great films are limited. I almost shed a few tears as I cut out some really great scenes. But scenes that didn’t move the action plotline forward had to go. All the fat and extra nuances in the story were sliced out.

I eventually got the story down to two hours. In doing so, it became really clear what scenes worked and what scenes needed to be reworked. It was rewrite time. Thanks to my newly developed skills, I crafted the story with focus and a great emotional tone that would satisfy the action genre fan and his or her date/spouse.

The next step was to enter a handful of festivals and see how my writing compared to others. I entered both niche focused and highly respected festivals. The festivals announce their selections at various times and the first announcement included my screenplay as an official selection—a good sign for other festivals.

The good news continued with the festival requesting information for networking introductions with industry leaders to include my needs for budget, funding, and distribution. This request made me feel like my story had value and I’m looking forward to every door the festival opens for me. And, who knows, I might even win a festival or two.

Copyright © 2020 by CJ Powers

The need to communicate is a part of the human condition. The recent stay-at-home programs helped launch Zoom from a small business tool into a common household name. But today, Zoom is becoming less appealing due to screen fatigue.

Social distancing forced many companies to use video conferencing and webinars for multiple daily meetings. Add to this phenomenon the staggering growth of virtual social gatherings and you find most working adults in front of a screen well beyond what their bodies can handle.

Screen fatigue overcame the fresh, exciting moments that new media brought to social communication.

Our desire to communicate with others has increased during our seclusion. Our appetite for connection was never satisfied by meeting on screen. We as a people group needed to get outside and connect in person to feel any level of fulfillment. Long periods of isolation didn’t even feel good to many introverts. Cabin fever set in and screen fatigue made everyone more susceptible.

We as humans need physical touch for our sanity and to feel connected. This is due to what psychologists refer to as phycological hungers. One of the phycological hungers that Dr. Eric Berne noted in Transactional Analysis was Contact Hunger. His work states that physical touch develops comfort and identity. The moment of touch also causes a visceral sense of connectedness and a healthy separateness.

Physical touch develops comfort and identity.

In societies that have looked down on forms of interactive touch like hugs, handshakes, and kisses, the individuals are more susceptible to being emotionally unhealthy and filled with distress. Those societies move into a progression of dysfunction, more so than that of a society that accepts touch and has to deal with some issues of abuse.

The extended COVID-19 isolation has starved many people from human touch, which has driven a need for more personal interaction. Screen fatigue has added to this problem and has driven people to seek outdoor gatherings. Since most are spaced six feet apart, the growing hunger will not be satisfied.

Kory Floyd Ph.D., recently published an article on “Skin Hunger” in Psychology Today. He pointed out that the starvation of physical touch is no less detrimental than water or food starvation. In a recent study, he found that adults deprived of human touch showed a great increase in depression, stress and loneliness. He also noted that they were less happy and they saw a major drop-off of their immune system leading to significant health risks.

Both noted experts helped me understand that our skin hunger will drive us to any oasis of human touch that is available. And, just as our bodies can’t go without food for more than 40 days, our skin can’t go without human touch. The phycological factors of blocking physical touch lead to dysfunctional problems that our society is not prepared to handle. The isolation of the healthy will drive people to hunger for what their bodies need in order to survive.

The next time you find yourself feeling empty while on a social video conference call, remember that those virtual relationships will always lack the touch that your skin needs to survive. We are a physical people that must interact to feel fulfilled and to solidify our identity. The next chance you have to extend your human touch, remember that doing so will feed person’s skin and bring health to their soul.

Copyright © 2020 by CJ Powers

While I was on my way to an Oscar® party last Sunday, a friend reminded me that it was “my night” and wished me well. The comment acknowledged my love for the cinema, which I started to develop at age ten. During my freshman year at university, I attended so many movies that I developed personal friendships with most of the theater managers in town, giving me free access to all the movies I attended for four years.

During my tenure as a cinephile, I came to appreciate American movies above all others. I understood the uniqueness of American movies and could easily spot and separate those nuances from foreign films. I also knew the key elements that turned the films into iconic American treasures. On a few occasions, I was even known to win a short-clip film contest where you had to guess a film’s country of origin in a matter of seconds.

This background churned my stomach when a foreign film won Best “American” Picture, revealing that the Oscars® are no longer about America’s best. But what really bothered me was that 1917 did not win Best Picture.

I watch about 100 films a year in the theaters. When comparing 1917 to other films over the past ten years, I can clearly say that it could easily win the best picture of the decade award. Why? Because it was masterfully crafted, pulled the audience into the war with all of its emotional charge, and took us on a journey that changed our perception of war within two hours.

This year’s winner, Parasite, a Korean film, was nothing more than a screwball comedy. The story was crafted like a movie-of-the-week Rom-Com. The film had technical and artistic problems and did not represent the type of film where all departments demonstrated mastery of their craft. I saw way too many flaws on the screen and couldn’t understand how it got nominated.

I was recently asked a couple of important questions. Since America is a diversified country with Korean-Americans, why don’t I consider Parasite an American film? How many Americans need to be involved in a picture for it to be American?

The answer is not as complex as the questions might lead us to believe. The producers admitted it was an international picture when they entered it into the International Film category and won another Oscar® in that category. They knew it was not an American film. In fact, they were quoted numerous times calling it a Korean film.

A few years back, the Academy opened its doors, in the name of diversity, with the hopes that it could change the direction of the American film industry by diversifying the culture. Having raised my family in a diverse culture, I had no problem with the concept. However, the execution was terrible because instead of only letting people into the Academy who had mastered their craft, they let people in solely because of their nationality to quickly balance the number of voters by race.

The end result was a group of individuals in the industry voting for the best picture that hadn’t yet mastered their craft. Instead of the Oscar® being given to the best of the best, the trajectory appears to have awarded politics over excellence.

I believe people are tired of the politics surrounding the awards. In fact, this year’s broadcast saw a hefty group of 5 million viewers drop off from last year. Fans want to learn more about their favorite celebrities and films, not someone’s political opinion who gets a bigger paycheck by aligning their comments to a popular cause.

Fans also want to find out what American films are worth their time. Yes, American films. While there are a few of us that watch international films regularly, most people have a limited amount of time to watch films in the theater and would prefer to watch a well-crafted American film over an international film with subtitles.

If the Academy is transitioning to be a global “best of” organization and is no longer charged with the American film industry, then I’d like to know who is going to step up and help viewers learn about the best America has to offer the cinema. Maybe there needs to be a new organization that is willing to fight to keep the American film culture alive.

Or, if our global film community is strong enough to compete internationally, then a new organization that represents the global best should rise up, rather than converting our American film Academy into a global one.

Copyright © 2020 by CJ Powers