The Defaulty Towel

Last august, when the Screenwriting course tutor asked me, in our phone interview, in which direction I'd like to go with my writing, I told him I was quite determined to write for the web. I'm a fan of web-sitcoms (or webcoms). Their length is most appropriate for our fast times. You need a good laugh, but can't really waste precious minutes with a 30-minute episode of a sitcom? Open your browser and watch a 5-minute episode of a webcom, then go about your business.

Eight months, two terms, and one Interactive Media module later, I must confess I'm not sure that's still my stance.

I still “had it” in the first term. Wrote a market analysis on webcoms, for the Business module, and even thought about assembling a team of writers to create a webcom in the second term. I was quite sure the IM module would enlighten some ways in which to actually create it (not write it, but... you know... the whole thing).

Now, it would be tremendously easy to blame the IM classes and the almost exclusive focus on videogames for my loss of appetite for web series. But it wouldn't be fair.

The reason I didn't write a web series was having discovered how it is to write for long-form “filmic products”, so to speak. Two TV pilots, one which I'm most proud of, took up most of my writing time this term.

Not being into videogames was just an excuse.

So, I wouldn't have to reflect for ages to realize that no, the IM module didn't do much for me.

I came to understand (and appreciate) many forms of interactivity, but games just don't work, in my case.

To quote Chance the Gardener in Being There, I like to watch. And comment, and like or dislike, and suggest, and share. But above all – to watch. (Which gives me something to ponder on: as someone who likes to watch, why do I actually write because I'd like to be watched? How does this mechanism work? What does it say about human nature?).

I did feel a certain (peer?) pressure into writing something highly interactive (videogame, ARG etc.), but I just couldn't do it. So I turned to what I felt was, to me, the closest to this: transmedia. Which included, but did not limit to, a webcom element. With more interactive features than the “usual” webcoms. Or, at least, than those I like. To watch.

And it did enlighten me, in a way. Conceiving it, and writing it, I realized there are many ways of watching, and that the “traditional” watching – that defined by dictionaries – is not enough to extend to my concept of watching. That's because I don't just watch. I watch and react. I watch and give you the link. I watch and re-tell, or re-do, or re-live.

That's interactive. And I probably wouldn't have come to this realization if it weren't for the IM and the project proposal.

Eh... who knows... I might give that webcom a shot one of these days.

That's “intertainment”!

Alright, after much tormenting I decided to not focus on the erotic videochat idea for the Interactive Media proposal, and the reasons ranged from "would I risk having a sex-obsessed audience?" to "why wouldn't I watch real porn instead?". So... no.

Instead, I expanded the idea, both in what the platform is concerned (now it's basically a TV comedy series, with a powerful online presence), and the plot and characters. Besides sex, now there's food and relationships and money. Some call this life, I called it...

...Venture Joints. I'm sure you all get the wordplay (I'm not going to even pretend it's smart!), especially when I tell you it's about three (oh, magic!) irreparably bound friends, former business students, trying to set up their own ventures.

One is the inventor of a not-so-revolutionary social network, called FaceGame. High concept: Facebook meets Second Life.

Another is a food therapist, promoting herself through short inspirational cooking videos on her own website.

The other is (back to basics!) an erotic videochat performer.

Other than the six episodes "projected" for broadcasting, this series is supposed to benefit of several webisodes, each focusing on a specific character. Again, other than the fact that webisodes would be easily viewable not only on computers/laptops, but mobile phones as well, this is not the most "interactive" element of the project (but don't expect anything too original, OK?). The interactivity comes from the project's openness to viewer interaction: I, as a viewer, can try and predict what will happen next and if I get it right I might get a shot at co-writing a TV episode; online, I can suggest and support my own ideas of further developments in the series; I can be banned from further comments if the other users' majority votes as such; I can "be" my own character, with my own story, real or fictional, and I can ask for (and participate in) a virtual erotic session, a cooking therapy session, or be an avatar in FaceGame.

Essentially, I tried juggling with interactivity both in the form and in the content of the series (say what you will, but I for one would watch the misadventures of a few representatives of the 2.0 youth - I don't think 'The Social Network' is enough to paint the portrait of a generation).

Long time, no blog, but other stuff, like writing the first draft of a sitcom pilot, a sketch, two drafts of another 30' pilot, a 20' short film and looking for a job. I'd better not say anything about the pay-offs.

I should get serious and say a couple of things about my, well, Interactive Media project.

Not a videogame, nor an ARG - I still didn't get the hang of those.

A web series (I'd say web sitcom, but there's no guarantee as to how funny it would be).

Based on the two most iconic social behaviours nowadays: sex and Internet.

A web series called 'Passion Roulette'.

Very little scripted, but, well, fictional. More like an improv web series.

Two actors, one guy, one girl, playing a couple doing videochat for a living. Doing their best to keep the user satisfied.

I said improv, because the two characters will need to react to the input of the "supporting character(s)": the user(s) who visit(s) their website. The real user(s) who visit(s) their fictional website.

They're the stars, but anyone can be a guest star.

So it would be actually based on a third iconic social behaviour of the day: exhibitionism.

Who wouldn't want to be a web sensation without doing much? Who wouldn't want to brag about being in an episode of 'Passion Roulette'?

UGC, baby. UGC.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, hands-free technology gave birth to an interesting behavioural "deviation": people "talking to themselves" while walking on the street - that is, looking like talking to themselves. But their less tech-literate folks soon got accustomed to this sight and stopped thinking of those having conversations in tiny mics and headphones as modern-era village idiots.

A few days ago, I saw a pre-teen doing some strange moves and gestures facing the window of a shop. Village idiot, you may think - only he wasn't. It was just a boy "bowling" on the Kinect that was exhibited in the window of the Edinburgh CEX store on Rose Street.

The sight was, to me at least, less disturbing than when I first saw a person using hands-free in public - and, for the first time, it made me think of how videogames really can change human behaviour (therefore, the individual, therefore, the society).

The first thing that games can change is the body. With technologies like Kinect or Wii Fit, I think we can prepare to say goodbye to the image of fat-ass slimy geeks, stuck in their armchairs for days, in front of their computer, typing like crazy or handling joysticks and controllers, waiting for the carpal tunnel syndrome to kick in, while ordering stacks of pizzas and burgers and chips to be delivered to them at home, to add even more fat around their belly. The game-geeks of the (near) future can be more, well, fit, with less health problems and a more ventilated environment and brain ("Mens sana in corpore sano", as the Romans put it - Google Romans or Latin if you're confused).

Healthier geeks may then become even good-looking geeks and more self-confident geeks. The world will be saved - cause progress starts with the belief you can change the order of things ("Yes, we can!", as Barrack Obama put it - again, Google. While you're there, try searching for Mubarak and read about some interesting things happening around the world).

To that, add the happiness and the will to commit gained from applying self-confidence in personal life (leading to girlfriends, leading to meaningful relationships - on Facebook at first, but who's to say that's a bad thing?), and you'll really be optimistic about the future world.

It's true, it does sound like the Biblical promise of Paradise, i.e., boring - but then again, those who won't like it will probably be able to move to another planet anytime and build the primitive world from scratch (fun!).

Or have a bowling night, out or in, depending on the mood.

"Storytelling never left, we're just not very good at it."

Yesterday, WIRED, my favourite tech magazine (that's because so far it's been the only one I've been reading constantly), published an article about a very interesting and on-the-spot series of videos on "game theory", in which Scott Steinberg tries to cast light on the ever-changing interactive environment.

I confess, I haven't watched all the episodes (yet), but the one on storytelling sets a lot of thought-provoking frames in which to read, interpret, and analyze the ways in which game stories can be told. Well, not told - and not shown, either. In game developer Steve Meretzky's words, game writers are to "tell the story through playing". That's right, Mr. Meretzky reinvents the (in)famous storytelling rule "Show, Don't Tell", replacing it with "Don't Show, Play" when it comes to videogames.

Other people interviewed in Episode 3 of Game Theory say that developers have not yet mastered true storytelling, referring to the entire gaming experience and engaging emotions, not just to dialogue or cut-scenes. And, while an LA Times reporter states that emphasis on storytelling, for developers, goes back and forth in popularity, but a developer contradicts her by admitting that "storytelling never left, we're just not very good at it". As to what a possible reason for "not being good at it" might be, the issue of player expectations versus character limitations is also tackled in this video.

Long story short, writers are to set "Don't Show, Play" as their personal goal, they're not very good at writing, and players are dissatisfied they cannot really do what they want whenever they want it.

So, my question is: will gamers ever be able to do what they want regardless of any character limitations? This idea of having full control on something designed/written by somebody else sounds as tragic as that of trying to control, well, I don't know, your own body, maybe. As hard as you try, you can't stop aging, for instance. Or fight a genetic disorder. And so on.

On the other hand, is "playing" really detachable from "showing" or "telling"? Aren't film audiences also playing with the images/sounds/words that they are shown/told on screen - each in a different manner, dependant on own experiences, intelligence, emotional life? It is different from "playing" a video game, but isn't that still some kind of playing?

OK, I've set up this new blog just in time for my laptop battery to be pronounced dead.

The power cable's not doing great either. Therefore, two options: buy a new battery or play the Lazarus thing with the freezer.