“JASMINE” – The Last 777,600 Seconds in HK

Hey, guys.  Long time, no blog.  I couldn’t tell you when I wrote my last blog, if it wasn’t for the time stamp on it.  Apparently, I wrote the last installment of the ongoing “Jasmine” saga on July 8th, 2007.  My 32nd birthday.  21 days ago.  The last few weeks have been quite a marathon, to say the least.  You see, I unofficially set July 31st as the deadline for the second draft of the scrīpt.  And, although that deadline seemed like a bit of a pipe dream a week ago, I’m now happy to report that, after settling into an unexpected, not to mention remarkable, groove over the past few days, I finished the draft on Saturday night around 7pm – three days ahead of schedule.  I could write an entire blog about the “post-partem depression”-like symptoms that I typically endure whenever I finish something and, you know what, I think I will.  But, that’ll come a little later.  For now, as promised, I’ll talk a little bit about my last week or so in Hong Kong – specifically, the outline for the second draft and my death-defying attempt to make up for lost time in the HK club scene with the usual suspects (a.k.a. Jason, Terence, Pat, Stephen, Boon, Raffi, etc.).  And so, at the end of the last blog, I mentioned how Jason and I completed the notes process and how I quickly embarked on my outline for the second draft.  Wait... Not so fast.  Before I go on, I should mention that people often ask me, “Do you outline?”  In fact, a good friend just asked me yesterday over dim sum.  And the answer is “yes.”  I do outline.  However, I think it’s important to note that, in my opinion, outlining is an animal unto itself… there are many different kinds of outlining… just because you can write a good outline doesn’t mean that you can write a good scrīpt… there are benefits to outlining… there are dangers to outlining… and I don’t necessarily recommend the process to everyone.  One must exercise caution.  In terms of the first draft of “Jasmine,” I more or less relied upon the “index card” approach.  Basically, what this means is: before you have begun writing the actual scrīpt, you take all of your ideas (for example: scenes, sequences, certain visuals you might want to include, etc.), you write a couple of words that best summarize the scene (or whatever) on an index card (for example -- SPOILER ALERT -- “ROCKY GETS IN SHAPE,” “LUKE BLOWS UP DEATHSTAR,” etc.), and you tack all of your index cards onto a bulletin board (or spread them out on a table) in chronological order.  This enables you to essentially take a step back and see your story as a whole.  Sometimes, this perspective may allow you to see plot holes or lead you to discover which scenes are missing.  It may also allow you to see which scenes are extraneous.  You don’t need to reach a set number of index cards before you can begin your scrīpt.  Some people use a few cards.  Some people use hundreds.  I think I read somewhere that Frank Pierson used only 8 total when he was writing “Dog Day Afternoon.”  Personally, I use several dozen.  As I said, everyone is different.  You also don’t necessarily need to have every single scene worked out before you begin writing.  In the first draft, in particular, you don’t want to outline your story to death.  After all, there is something to be said for allowing yourself the flexibility to make discoveries during the writing process itself.  In terms of the second draft of “Jasmine,” I decided to re-outline before embarking on it.  Why?  Well, there were a few reasons for this.  One, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to finish the second draft of the scrīpt before I left Hong Kong, but felt reasonably certain I could finish an outline for it.  It was important to me that Jason and I agreed on the precise direction of the second draft before I left and the new outline would make this possible.  It would also allow us to see how the story would be changed, following the integration of the notes we discussed after reading the first draft.  In short, it was crucial.  This time, however, I did not use the index card approach to the outline.  This time, I decided to go a slightly different route.  Having read and been inspired by Robert Towne’s “step sheet” for “Chinatown” and Paul Schrader’s “scene breakdown” for “Investigation,” copies of which are available on the internet by the way, I decided to use a hybrid of the two.  Basically, a “step sheet” and a “scene breakdown” are the same thing, but the format may vary somewhat.  Essentially, it’s like the index card approach, but it’s more detailed.  No index cards are used.  It’s an actual prose document.  As before, you write the ideas for the scenes down in chronological order.  However, after writing a scene heading, like “LUKE BLOWS UP THE DEATHSTAR,” you write a descrīption of what exactly happens in the scene/sequence.  Does this make sense?  Anyone still awake?  Bueller?  Bueller?  Bueller?  All right… fine… So, while my last days in HK were spent working on the step sheet, my last nights in HK were spent playing.  I should mention that I’ve heard the expression, “work hard, play hard,” before.  A lot of people say it.  Few people actually do it.  Even fewer people raise it to the level of an art form the way that the usual suspects do.  These.  Guys.  Know.  How.  To.  Have.  Fun.  The evening of Friday, June 8th, started innocently enough.  Pat and Stephen invited Jason and myself, along with maybe a half-dozen other people, over to their pad for a friendly game of poker.  A few weeks earlier, Jason talked me into going along with him to poker night, despite some major reservations on my part.  Why did I have reservations?  OK, to be honest, I was kind of embarrassed that, at the age of 31, I still didn’t know how to play and I certainly wasn’t about to admit this to anyone.  I was also frustrated because no one had ever managed to explain the game to me in a way that I could really understand it.  (Yes, I really am that retarded when it comes to certain things.)  Furthermore, I didn’t want to slow down the game for everybody else.  So, my plan was to lay low and drink a couple of beers in the background.  Pat had other ideas, though.  In fact, I realized as I was speaking the words, “You guys go ahead, I’m not a big poker player,” that there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to talk my way out of playing.  Interestingly enough, although Pat is quick to smile and has one of the most amiable personalities around, there is something about his eyes and the way they seem to look through you, which makes it fucking impossible to say no to him.  Don’t get me wrong, you can try to say no.  But the odds are that, if he wants you to play poker, then you’re going to be playing poker, even if you don’t know it yet.  (By the way, since this writing, I have come to the conclusion that Pat was using the Jedi “mind trick” on me.  I am now suing him for negligence, emotional distress, and for turning me into a degenerate gambler.)  Anyway, I quickly realized that the only way to get out of playing was to come clean and reveal the truth.  “I actually don’t know how to play poker,” I confessed.  “That’s OK, I’ll teach you really fast,” Pat-wan replied.  Now, believe me when I say that Pat was not the first person to say this to me.  In fact, I can distinctly recall a few different family reunions throughout my life when I’ve had my own relatives take it upon themselves to finally teach me poker and invite me to sit down at the men’s table.  Unfortunately, after about an hour, these same relatives always seemed to reach a point where they’d look at me, as if they couldn’t believe someone could actually be that retarded.  Typically, they would then mutter, “Ah, fuck it,” and tell me to go help the women in the kitchen.  (I think I was 29 the last time this happened.)  I was in no way interested in subjecting myself to such embarrassment again.  But, faster than an Imperial Stormtrooper could say, “We don’t need to see his identification.  These aren’t the droids we’re looking for,” I found myself standing at Pat’s side, watching and listening as he explained the game while everyone else let out a collective sigh and waited.  Clearly, everyone else could tell that Pat had a better chance of teaching a potted plant how to play poker than he did the caveman standing next to him.  Amazingly, within about three minutes, I was actually starting to wrap my mind around the game.  I guess the old adage is true… The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded.  Anyway, that was two Fridays and $300 (HKD) ago and, on the evening of June 8th, I was determined to play “tight.”  I noticed that Raffi always played tight and, if he didn’t win, he would almost always end up in the top three.  In the first game of the night, I ended up in the top three, too.  Not bad for my third game of poker ever.  In the second game of the night, however, I grew tired of playing tight.  I had drank a Heineken and eaten a slice of pizza and was starting to feel a little reckless… and, well, I was the first one out.  Altogether, I’d lost $200 (HKD), which, for a night out in HK, is nothing.  But the night wasn’t over yet.  In fact, although we finished playing around 1am, the night, I soon learned, was only just beginning… To be continued.