Violating the aesthetic distance in the Australian blogosphere

This week has been one of drama in the local, vocal, and maybe even a little parochial, blogosphere. We've heard allegations of deceit and accusations of bad hairstyles. And we've witnessed a tearful plea from Zac Martin, defender of the digitally free and one Seth Godin.

This same week I happened to be re-reading David Mamet's book on the movie business Bambi vs Godzilla (I've written about it previously here). Specifically, I've been reading the chapter Aesthetic Distance.

In the context of film, aesthetic distance is "the name for that condition whose existence allows the audience to suspend its judgement (to in effect lower its guard) in return for receipt of a specialized experience."

It is in effect, the degree of our involvement in the story.

A "violation of the aesthetic distance" occurs when we are "yanked out of the drama"; when something ruptures our engagement with the story and in effect reminds us that this is a film, and they are actors. It's the point when we can no longer suspend our disbelief.

I think this week has seen both the creation and violation of aesthetic distance but I'm still looking forward to the next chapter in the Australian blogosphere.

The writing process and the art of the screenplay

I'm still a pretty green blogger and so every day is akin to peering under a rock in a forest and uncovering a whole new world of interesting thinkers and writers I didn't know existed. One of the things I'm enjoying is learning more about people's writing process (check out this great post from Laurel Papworth on how she typically attacks a blog post).

I'm also reading a great book at the moment by intellectual gymnast, acidic commentator and writer David Mamet. Bambi vs Godzilla is a series of tell-all-tales on the nature of Hollywood.  His blatant disregard for the titans of the movie business makes for some sharp and funny writing. In addition, Mamet provides some fascinating insights into the art of the screenplay - below are the questions he believes every scene in your film must answer:

1. Who wants what from whom
2. What happens if they don't get it
3. Why now

The simplicity of a great story.



This little film inspired the book's title. A classic animation from 1969.