It was Oscar season which means I watched every best picture nominee as per tradition started when i was in college. I know, know. It’s a little pretentious but it’s also fun. It’s like a game every year where you have to see every movie before that bloated annual ceremony which I religiously watch.

Still, I’m going to keep this one short. I just wanted to make a little comment about the screenwriting process presenting in the nominated (and winning) film Drive My Car.

First, warning. Thar be references to adult content here. Second, a thought. I have not read the Haruki Murakami short story that the movie is based on so I have no idea if this was a part of the original plot or something the screenwriters Ryuske Hamaguchi and Takamsa Oe came up with. If it’s the former, I find it a strange addition.
If you’ve seen the film, you know where I’m going with this. If you haven’t, here’s some background. Drive My Car is about a widower theatre actor and director played by Hidetoshi Nishijima being chauffeured by a twenty-three year old woman who makes him reminisce about the loss of his daughter (who would be the same age as the chauffeur if she’d lived) and especially his wife. Without giving anything important away, the whole plot is about art and grief and loss and guilt.

BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT TO COMMENT ON. The main character’s late wife, Oto (Reika Kirishima), had been a critically acclaimed screenwriter who mostly wrote televised dramas. And, oh yeah, she got her best ideas from orgasms. When she and her husband would have sex, she’d spout out plot points and character building. The next day, he would repeat all to her and she’d write it into a script.

I have so many questions about this? Most of which might make my mother blush if she read this blog. But I guess my biggest thought is - how is that productive? What if she’s on a deadline, but has a headache? What if she needs a flash of brilliance but she has a UTI? Also, she must’ve really trusted her husband to repeat it all back to her the next day. I’d be paranoid he’d forget something important because . . . you know . . . they’re having sex.

This idea just does not seem like a good writing model, but I guess I shouldn’t judge. My model for motivating myself to write involves a lot of Youtube rabbit holes and spinning in my chair. To each their own, I guess.