Section 1.1: The Influence of Craig Mazin

Craig Mazin stands out as one of my favorite screenwriters. On his podcast, he often shares insights into his journey as a writer. Contrary to what some might think, his success didn’t stem from attending prestigious institutions or moving to Los Angeles to network. Instead, it originated from a unique practice he embraced independently—revisiting his favorite films repeatedly.

Mazin would watch these films with a pen and paper handy, rewinding scenes to dissect their conflicts and resolutions. He took notes on how these elements intertwined, ultimately leading to larger conflicts in subsequent scenes. He even dedicated an entire podcast episode to discussing his note-taking methodology, introducing the concept he termed the "Hegelian dialectic" of cinema. In another episode, he and his co-host John August meticulously analyzed their beloved film, The Princess Bride. Mazin equated his early film analysis to the apprenticeship of a watchmaker.

Watches are intricate devices. Understanding how to create one requires examining its inner workings, piece by piece. This meticulous study is essential for mastering the craft, focusing on each gear individually.

Mazin emphasized that attending film school, securing a powerful agent, or having familial connections in the industry are not prerequisites for becoming a successful screenwriter. What truly matters is the dedication to honing one’s craft with the precision of a watchmaker.

Section 1.2: The Gift of Clive James

Reflecting on Mazin's approach, I found myself considering the concept I refer to as "The Gift." This idea emerged during a recent consultation with a writer, where we closely analyzed the essays of Clive James. James had a remarkable talent for concluding sentences with unexpected insights that challenge the preceding thoughts. For instance, in his essay on Thomas Mann, a German novelist with a complex legacy, James writes:

“… Given all that, Mann deserved his status as a lion. He showed he had the heart for it, and all the more so because it was against his nature. One of his many reasons for hating the Third Reich was that it forced him to be a better man than he really was.”

Notice how the endings of the second and third sentences contrast with the earlier phrases, creating a layer of depth. This is what I call "The Gift"—the ability to surprise the reader at the conclusion of a thought, setting the stage for the next idea.

I explore this concept further in my upcoming course, but discussing it with the writer reminded me of Mazin's philosophy: to study what you love in great detail. This week, I noticed how James's essays often transform sentences into aphorisms, encapsulating profound human experiences in a compact form.

James drew inspiration from the ancient historian Tacitus, whose writing is rich with history and emotion. A notable line from Tacitus states, "They make a desert and they call it peace," a powerful commentary on the brutality of war and the arrogance of conquest. This sentiment resonates today, as we witness similar themes unfolding in places like Ukraine.

Revisiting James's work allowed me to connect insights that I had previously overlooked, despite reading his essays countless times before. This illustrates the essence of being a watchmaker, especially in today's world where information is abundant. We benefit more from studying a select few beloved works in depth rather than spreading ourselves too thin.