Take the premise seriously. Fugate's first command of fiction writing. I come down from the mountain and hurl this marble tablet on the head of shucks everywhere.
My beef was what with Hollywood hacks who write in terms of Car chase/explosion/fight/sex scene/foot chase through narrow alley/gunfight/explosion/sex scene -- troweling in plot, character and motivation into the cracks of said story beats like Bondo in the wounds of an old Chevy. The indifference to logic pissed me off mightily. Indignation no less than righteous.
Goddamnit. You're interrogating a dangerous alien who can turn into gaseous form and the fracking alien is on the other side of a plexiglas sheet with holes in it. Seriously?
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