Kick Me In The Side

Now that I had a clearer understanding of the recipe for a young protagonist, I couldn't help but still feel something was missing. I mean, the character was complete...but, there was an element that I couldn't put my finger on. Something I'd seen a dozen times before, but was too stupid to realize.

Of course - a sidekick! The answer hit me in the face like a...sidekick (there's a joke there somewhere, I just can't think of it right now).

Of course, I think the idea had been in my head from the beginning; it just had a little more difficulty coming to the surface.

From the beginning of Hammerfist's inception as a 15-page draft in 2013, there is a scene which describes a vague character with the placeholder name of "Short Fuse", who is smoking a cigarette on a beach and writing a poem. This eventually became the introduction to the character in the final draft. At the time, I didn't have much of a clear perception of who Short Fuse was, but given the similarity to Temple of Doom's "Short Round", I think the association was obvious. 

Eventually, Short Fuse morphed into who he is today - Tommy Red Horse, or, as his peers call him, "Pinto".

Equal parts pacifist and fighter, poet and braveheart, Pinto is a contradictory and complex character. Of all the characters in the book, I don't think it's a stretch to say that I poured the most of myself into Tommy's mold, and I certainly understand him the best.

I think because I wrote Pinto from such a personal perspective, his influences among other movies are severely less in number than most characters.

 

However, from very early on, the writing I was doing reminded me heavily of Evan Adams in Smoke Signals. The blind faith, poetic dreaming, and undying loyalty seemed extremely similar in the roles, and when I re-watched the movie, I understood how closely the characters came, even down to the dorky glasses and big, toothy smile. Although I'm sure Pinto has bits and pieces from dozens of other movie sidekicks, this is the one that shaped him the most.

My buddy Taylor Allison takes full credit for the name "Pinto". I had known since the beginning that "Short Fuse" would have to go, but for whatever reason, it was a hard name to drop. I asked Taylor for help, telling her to come up with a nickname "for a short person that is simultaneously derogatory and empowering". It was a tall order to fill (pun intended), but Taylor delivered. She used to be a schoolyard bully, so I figured she would know.

What she came up with was a comparison to the Ford Pinto, the short-lived consumer car dream project that ended tragically when multiple accidents revealed a sinister design flaw. Within the book, an anecdote explains the connection in more detail.

Comparing the car - a mild-mannered, quiet sedan that had a reputation for exploding suddenly - to Tommy's personality was literally flawless. And seeing as the word Pinto conjurs images of painted Cheyenne war ponies, the name ended up fitting Tommy's character two-fold (while never stated outright, Pinto is heavily implied to be an American Indian).

In many ways (hell, most ways) Pinto's character is much stronger and more memorable than Bane's. That annoyed me at first, but I realized that if I was really trying to capture the 80's, this was completely on point. The sidekicks were often more memorable than the bland protagonists - that was often a complaint of mine growing up. But I wanted to follow the 80's path, it was just part of the formula.   

Of course, Pinto is a little too competent most of the time. What about those dark days when Jonathan just needs a little rudeness to guide him, throwing his destiny to juvenile urges and crass stupidity?

Enter Sidekick No. 2: Eric Masters.

"Beat it meathead, before I pound ya," Eric lisps to Keith Stiles. "I've got bigger fish to fry." He places a pair of Wayfarers over his eyes and walks off, flipping Keith the bird while his college-age girlfriend massages his shoulders.

All the best heroes need a smartass little brother tying them to the common people (Lewis in The Last Starfighter is arguably my favorite example). A kid with a bowl haircut who eats carrot sticks and thinks he's the next Prom King for it. I mean, we all knew this kid. And if we didn't, we saw him in movies. 

Eric Masters clearly serves two purposes in the story.

1. He functions as Bane's support in more juvenile pursuits (like videogames, which Pinto shuns), and an overall connection to the outside social world. A busybody and an informant to current events, he is Jonathan's representative for culture. 

2. I think little kids swearing is funny.

For serving such a simple function, Eric's influences run surprisingly deep. Besides the aforementioned Last Starfighter as well as Iron Eagle (which is where the surname "Masters" originates), some of Eric's misjudged style, quirks, and antisocial behavior come from River Phoenix in Explorers. 

Jenny Lewis' character in The Wizard lent a huuuuge hand in shaping Eric's smartass-ness, narcissism and misplaced maturity, and Corey Feldman's brief appearance in Gremlins translated to a nearly identical scene in the final draft (not counting his other various movies which have made it into my subconscious).

Notably, I really nailed down the character after watching Near Dark, in which Joshua Miller portrays a 100 year-old vampire perpetually stuck in the body of a small child. I'll bet Eric could relate to that (while holding hands with his 19 year-old girlfriend). 

So we had our hero, and we had our sidekick(s). The conflict was starting to shape up too. But what was still missing?

Oh yeah, a villain. Ugh. Do movies really need villains? I mean, I guess...

In the Beginning...

Like most big ideas, the earliest stages of Hammerfist's development are pretty muddy. But if I think back on it reaaaaal hard, I think I can connect a few of the dots.

I had (have) a habit of frequenting obscure thrift stores with friends, not usually with the intent of buying anything, but more just looking for wacky old technology to gawk at, and wonder about the ill-fated fashion statements of forgotten decades.

As early as 2012 I remember telling my friend Nick that a terrible plastic computer monitor would be a good prop piece if we ever decided to make "a Kurt Russell action movie". At the time, I think I pictured one of us wearing a mullet wig and typing furiously at the fake computer as intense music thumped in the background. There wasn't much more substance to the idea than that, but the beginnings of something were obviously struggling to rise up. Fueled by the thrift stores, an image began to form in my mind of what such a movie could look like - an image of flashy costuming, outdated technology, and stylization overplayed to comical effect. This was Part One of the marriage of ideas that created Hammerfist.

 

Things didn't evolve much after that; at least, not until an important catalyst of inspiration would finally light a real fire under my ass.

Notably, things only took a more serious turn after a very important experiment. An experiment that unwittingly proved to me that this vague idea was just as much fun as I hoped it would be, and that with the right tone, it could work.


That experiment's name was High Five.

Filmmaker Jacob Hilger and I collaborated on the idea in late 2013. We had both just wrapped on another project, Outlawed Prospects: The End Is Near, which had proven extremely stressful and a bit over-taxing. With a simple desire to create something fun, relaxed, and easy, we looked for a new idea that we could shoot quickly and turn into something charming.

Now, going back to this - so what, you may ask, was the ever-important Part Two of the inception of Hammerfist?

Easy. Music.

I'm fairly certain that every creative idea I've had in my life has hinged on some sort of reaction to music. I've never visualized anything without a soundtrack, and I've never written anything without a loop of inspirational playlist in the background.

For whatever reason, around 2011 I had taken up listening to what was then a brand-new genre of upcoming music - back then it wasn't so easy to define, but now, we call it "Synthwave".

The movement had it's roots in neo-80's nostalgia, and many of the small, underground artists of the time produced simple music videos that were merely re-edits of period films. Many of them were cyberpunk in tone, and heavily featured cars and motorcycles (Akira proved to be a popular donor). These early videos solidified my visual association with these new sounds, forever after.

 
Somehow, I got the idea of two overstuffed 80's badasses slugging it out on comically undersized mopeds - a perfect visual representation of the overly-dramatic style that I thought would be funny. I was working at a scooter repair shop at the time, with friends that were willing to help and lend their machines, and after finding the right song to fuel my imagination...well, the rest is history.

High Five succeeded ten-fold at Jake and I's original goal. But it did so much more beyond that. It lit a spark in the back of my mind that told me that the neo-80's comedy/action idea could work. It was essentially a prototype for Hammerfist.

Keep in mind, this was 2014, and the RetroWave world was still largely unexplored. Kung Fury wouldn't release for another year, and we still had many more years after that before Stranger Things, Ready Player One, etc. We'll get into all that in another post...

But for the time being, my mind was set. I had my concept. I had visual reference. I had music to inspire me. I started writing.

No really, what the hell is "Hammerfist?"

Now it's time to answer the question I completely neglected to answer in my first post. Look at that, this blog thing is off to a great start already!

The name of my novel is "Hammerfist".

At its core, Hammerfist is a story about an angsty high-school kid that can't catch a break. He longs for adventure, and wants a chance to prove himself - but most of all, he craves purpose. Our hero's name? Jonathan Bane. We'll talk more about him in a future post.

Through a series of rather dramatic and escalatingly improbable events, young Jonathan ends up finding all the adventure he could ever want - and much more. But like all things in life, the seemingly simple pursuits come at unforeseen costs. In this case, Jonathan is forced to mature in ways that he isn't ready for. It's a dark road ahead of him, and he'll have to grow in order to overcome the obstacles.

That's the basis of the general plot. Simple, right? In fact, I'll bet you've seen it a dozen times before. And that's the point.

See, Hammerfist is one thing above all else: a tribute. The entire story was meant as an homage to one of my favorite eras in cinematic history - the 1980's. The pinnacle of over-the-top action, effortless style (or lack thereof), quirky dialogue, extraneous technology, casual violence, cringe-worthy bigotry, and cheesy acting. It was an era that will never be outdone in terms of pure fun and stripped-down entertainment.

But here's the problem: a lot of my favorite movies from that time were of drastically different tones and genres, and didn't play well together. But maybe they should have.

What if Paul Verhoeven directed a John Hughes story? What if John Carpenter adapted a Robert Zemeckis script?

What if Pretty In Pink and Cobra were part of the same series?

You see where I'm going with this?

This polarizing mix of coming-of-age teen comedies and steamy blockbuster action flicks creates a rather unique blend, and one that I think worked rather well to create something interesting. But I guess I'll let my readers be the judges there (they'll have to be, because so far, I'm the only one that's read this thing).

But this idea of mixing two extremely different tones into something resembling a single, self-contained story...well, it's a tough nut to crack. We need to find a way to organically blend teen dramedy with pulp action.

So, what's the solution?

The answer is simple: The Kurt Russell Origin Story.

What is "Hammerfist"?

Well, here goes.

I've never made a blog before, I guess because I always thought they were just something that moms used to promote their Etsy shops. But after reading a note from Andy Weir discussing the evolution of The Martian, I realized that a blog could be a powerful tool in the process of fleshing out an otherwise disconnected group of ideas.

So let's get right to it: I'm writing a novel, and this blog is gonna be all about it.

Okay, so by "writing" I mean "already written". The first draft does exist. But it's still far from being finished. So this blog will serve as a type of...I don't know, retrospective brainstorming session, I guess, as I pick apart the multiple pieces of my manuscript and put them under the microscope. What works? What doesn't? Where did the ideas come from? What ideas do I still need to come up with? What are my favorite parts? How many question marks can I legally use in one paragraph?

This blog is going to be pretty wide in scope. I guess it'll just be anything that I find remotely related to the creation of this book - from the inspirations behind the original concept, to the writing process itself, to some selected showcases within the associated Synthwave culture (did I mention the book was based on Synthwave? Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself - that's for the next post. Slow down, Dreamwalker). It's a pretty long book, and the list of contributing elements is even longer, so we'll have plenty of time to kill. Hey, maybe I'll even throw in a few charming[ly boring] anecdotes.

Overall, I'm going to use this blog as a podium to autopsy the idiocy of my mediocre ideas. The results will probably be hilariously embarrassing. And just think - it's for all the public to see. I must be a genius.