Chris has a plan -- An essay by Jonah Nolan

一篇Empire雜誌的文章，由喬納諾蘭撰寫，有關他哥哥克里斯的事。

我不知道為什麼我今天才看到這篇，總之很渣地翻了一下，怕有錯(一定有)或詞不達意，所以底下也附上原文。


Chris has a plan. Chris is going to make a movie. He’s nine years old, shooting with our dad’s super 8 in our house in Evanston, Illinois. It’s a stop-motion science-fiction spectacular, starring his buddies from the neighborhood. I want to help out, but it’s not going to happen — I’m only three.

I’m small, but I’ve been hanging around long enough to learn a secret: when they hit that shutter, it’s indelible. Forever. I wait. Jump in front of the camera, waving my hands. I can see my brother frown behind the viewfinder — what’s that little asshole doing in the frame?

This is our first collaboration.

For my 13th birthday, Chris buys me a copy of The Dark Knight Returns. This isn’t a comic book — it’s a tear in the space-time continuum, a grime-caked lens through which you can glimpse an entire alternate universe. I don’t know if I should put it on my bookshelf or bury it in the back yard, like a radioactive ember.
A few years — and films — later, Chris has another plan. He’s going to try to dust off the Batman franchise, working from a script he’s written with David Goyer. Do I want to come along for the ride? I spend the next six months in a hotel room in Surrey, trying to think like a ninja.

I watch Batman Begins’ opening night at Grauman’s Chinese with a sell-out crowd. I’m nervous as hell. Will it work? Gordon flips over the Joker card at the end and the audience erupts like they’re going to tear the place apart. I’ve never heard a noise like it.

The studio calls. The movie played. Is there more? Is there anything left to say?
Sure. Why not? Chris has a plan.

They’ve got the story mapped out in cue cards in Chris’ garage. Chris walks me through it. The cards get sparser towards the end, but the last one’s a doozy: our hero is on the run.

So are we. Writing with Chris is writing at speed — on taxis, jumbo jets, boats, trams. London, LA, Chicago, Hong Kong. Chris has tech scouts, meetings with actors. I tag along. We figure out the script on the way — one long transcontinental argument, batting ideas back and forth. Bruce Wayne would be proud.
Everywhere we go, Chris is met by department heads with a million questions. He makes decisions on the fly — costumes, sets, shooting schedules. We’re in a warehouse as one of the stunt drivers does donuts in a naked batmobile chassis, massive tyres squealing as I try to shout questions about the third act over the noise.

Chicago, again. Chris has to climb up half the buildings in town to find one that Batman can stand on, looking purposeful. Back in the hotel, I start to set up my printer. I can’t. A massive candy sculpture commissioned by the hotel occupies the entire desk — a chocolate film reel projecting a sugary image of my brother, directing a scene. I give Chris a hard time about it for days.

The script comes out in a flood. We have the benefit of working on the shoulders of 70 years of great writers, all thinking about the same character. It’s like writing with a posse. Bruce, Alfred, Lucius and Gordon are easy, now, like old friends. The Joker is new territory, but he turns out to be the easiest character to write. Maybe I should see a shrink. Then I remember Chris making me watch Fritz Lang’s take on Dr. Mabuse all those years ago. I fight the feeling that he’s been planning this project since we were kids.

Back to LA. Chris’ garage is filling with models of an evil-looking motorcycle. I keep writing on the Warner lot. There’s a bust of Batman behind my desk; Batman T-shirts in the coffee shop; a 40-foot Batman mural over my parking space. They all glower: ‘Don’t screw this up.’

Then, just like that, I’m done. Off the merry-go-round. The script is complete. They start shooting in Chicago. I call to check in. What’s Heath doing with the role? They can’t describe it — it’s the way he moves, and this voice he’s using. What’s it like? High? Low? They can’t describe it — it’s just amazing.

I take a quick trip out to set. I get a laugh, back on the streets we spent time on as kids, watching Chris working his crew like some mad conductor, with helicopters and trucks and machine-guns instead of instruments. He looks like he’s been doing this all his life. Because he has.

They wrap. I fly the first five minutes out to New York for a sneak preview — IMAX reel in the overhead bin, each frame as big as a postcard. Six hundred kids are lined up outside the theater, faces painted. They look like an army. It feels like something huge is lumbering towards us, some tectonic shift.

By the time the movie comes out it’s been an exhausting ride, exhilarating and heartbreaking in equal measure. I’m not sure if any of us knows what will happen next. The studio winds it up, and sets it loose. It tears out across the countryside like Godzilla. Opening night, I watch 14 screens fill to capacity for a midnight showing at the Arclight in Hollywood. It seems like everyone is watching this movie, all at once — except for us. Warner can’t find us tickets anywhere in Los Angeles county.

Chris isn’t there — he and Emma are on the road, of course. Japan? Chicago? I hope they found them a ticket, wherever they are. I sit at the bar and watch people line up to watch a two-and-a-half-hour-long, pitch-black comic-book movie. Then I hoist a drink to my brother, to whom, apparently, someone forgot to explain the word ‘compromise’.

Six months later things finally calm down. The magazines and the movie fans chase off in search of new horizons. The rollercoaster pulls up to a halt. Time to get off. The studio calls. Is there more? Is there something left to say?
Yes. Yes there is. Chris has a plan.

---

Chris有個計劃。當他九歲時，他在我們Illinois的家，用我們父親的超級八厘米攝影機拍攝一部科幻停格電影，主演是隔壁鄰居Chris的好朋友。我想幫忙，但那不可能──因為我只有三歲大。

我還很小，但我在他們附近待的時間夠長，足以讓我知道一個秘密：當他們按下開關的時候就是關鍵。我跳到鏡頭前揮手，可以看到我哥哥在觀景鏡後面皺眉「這個小渾蛋出現在畫面裡作什麼？」

那是我們的第一次合作。

在我十三歲生日時，Chris買給我一本The Dark Knight Returns，那可不是一本漫畫，那是一道時空的裂縫，一個沾滿汙穢的鏡頭，讓你能夠窺視到另一個平行宇宙。我不知道我該把它放在書櫃裡，或是把它像放射性廢棄物一樣埋在後院。

好幾年之後──也拍了幾部電影──Chris有了另一個計畫，他要拂去蝙蝠俠系列的塵埃，用一份他和David Goyer寫出來的劇本。我想不想參與這事？我在一個Surrey的旅館中待了六個月，試圖像個忍者一樣思考。

我在Grauman’s Chinese*和爆滿的群眾一起看Batman Begins的首映會，我緊張得要命，到底會不會成功？當Gordon將小丑紙牌翻面時，群眾爆發的聲響像是他們要把電影院給拆了。我從沒聽過那種聲浪。

高層打電話過來，電影反應很好，可以拍續集嗎？還有更多故事可以說嗎？
當然，為什麼不？Chris有個計劃。

我們也是。和Chris一起寫劇本很仰仗速度──在計程車上、飛機上、船上、路面電車上，在倫敦、洛杉磯、芝加哥、香港；Chris要技術探勘、和演員開會，我就跟在一旁。我們在路途中想出劇本，一個橫跨大陸的爭執，我們為了好主意而前後爭執。Bruce Wayne應該要感到驕傲。

我們去每個地方，Chris都得和每個部門的負責人見面，被質問一大堆問題。他快速地作出決定──服裝、場景、拍攝日程。我們在機棚中，一個駕車特技員用一台只有底盤的蝙蝠車繞圈試車，我試圖在吵雜的輪胎摩擦聲中大喊，問（Chris）有關劇本第三幕的問題。

又是在芝加哥，Chris必須爬上城裡半數的大樓，找一個能讓蝙蝠俠站著俯視的點，在旅館裡，我試圖把我的列印機架好，我做不到，旅館的糖果雕塑佔據了整個書桌──一個巧克力膠捲投射著我哥哥甜蜜的樣子，正在執導一個場景。（應該是我理解錯誤，可是我實在搞不懂喬納這句是想說什麼...歡迎提供意見）我讓Chris難為了一陣子。

劇本在一陣洪流中產生，我們仗著站在偉大的寫手們七十年以來的成就上，想的都是同一個角色。就像是和一個團隊一起寫劇本。Bruce、Alfred、Lucius和Gordon現在就像是幾個老朋友。小丑是一個新的領域，但到了最後他其實是最好寫的角色。我大概得去看個心理醫生。我記得好久以前Chris讓我看Fritz Lang導的Dr. Mabuse*，我有種感覺他在我們小時候就已經在這樣計畫了。

回到洛杉磯，Chris的停車場中放滿了同一台摩托車的模型。我在華納的辦公室繼續寫東西，有個蝙蝠俠的半身像就放在我的桌子後面，咖啡店裡擺著蝙蝠俠的T-shirt，我停車的地方有個40英尺高的蝙蝠俠壁畫（或是廣告橫幅之類的）它們都在提醒我「別把事情搞砸了。」

然後，就像那樣，我的工作完了，離開了那台旋轉馬車，劇本寫完了。他們開始在芝加哥拍攝，我會打電話去問候「Heath演得怎麼樣？」他們沒辦法形容──他動作的樣子，以及他所使用的聲線。「是像什麼樣子？高或低？」他們就是沒辦法描述──那真是太棒了。

我到拍片現場作一個快速的遊覽，回到我們在孩童時期曾待過的街道上時，我好好地笑了一陣子，看Chris像個瘋狂的指揮一樣指使他的工作人員，只是用直升機、卡車和機關槍取代了樂器。他看起來像是已經作這個工作有一輩子了。他確實是。

他們收工了。我第一時間飛到紐約，為了看前導影片（我想是TDK的小丑搶銀行開場）在一個高過頭頂的空間中看IMAX格式，每一禎畫面大得像是是風景明信片（OK, I don't get what he means, again!）六百多個孩子在電影院外頭排隊，臉上畫著妝，他們看起來像是一支軍隊。感覺宛若風雨前的寧靜，像是地殼即將移動。

當電影總算要上映時，這已經是個令人嫉妒疲憊的旅程，令人振奮的同時亦令人心碎。我不確定我們之中的任何一個人知道接下來會發生什麼事。電影製作公司決定這麼作且設定得很寬鬆，結果它（TDK）像個哥吉拉一樣闖蕩全境。開場的當晚，我看到Arclight*在午夜用了14個廳的額度來播放（TDK）。好像所有人同時都在看這部電影──除了我們。華納沒辦法在洛杉磯境內替我們找到多餘的票。

Chris也不在──他和Emma正在旅行的路上，當然。日本？芝加哥？不管他們在哪，我希望他們（華納）有幫他們找到票。我坐在吧檯邊看人們排隊去看一部沉重且長達兩個半小時的漫畫改編電影。然後我要敬我的哥哥，那個很顯然忘記"妥協"這個詞是什麼意思的傢伙。

六個月後，這股潮流總算穩定下來，雜誌和電影迷們開始追尋另一個新的水平。雲霄飛車停在半空中，是該繼續的時候了。電影製作公司打電話過來，可以拍續集嗎？還有更多故事可以說嗎？

是的，當然有更多的故事。Chris有個計劃。


*Grauman’s Chinese
一家位在好萊塢的電影院


*Dr. Mabuse, der Spieler - Ein Bild der Zeit
1922年的德國黑白電影，默片，故事內容是一個精通心理學的犯罪天才，Dr. Mabuse，透過各種手段將他的被害人操縱於指掌之間。後面還有兩個續集，不知道克里斯是叫喬納看全部或是只看其中一部。


*Arclight
也是一個在好萊塢的電影院