Monday, May 09, 2005
Beat The Reader Pt. II
This piece first appeared in the May issue of the Liaison of Independant Filmmakers (LIFT) newly rebranded newsletter FILMPRINT. Visit their site for more information.
Hul-lo, it’s your friendly neighbourhood script reader back again. Last issue I introduced you to the concept of gatekeepers and allies and provided some tips to help you and your script get on my good side. I would like to take this one step further and explain how and why scripts fall apart. Screenwriting is like a tightrope walk - think of this column as extending the balancing pole of “craft” to you. After reading hundreds of scripts I have distilled the following five key elements that every aspiring screenwriter must keep in mind:
The First 5 Pages - Setting the Stage
Cast your mind back to last issue. You may recall that I told you how I could suss out your amateur status in the first five pages. Not only do those pages establish your level of professionalism, but they must engage me by relating some key information. Who is the protagonist? What is her problem? What is she going to do about it? Who stands in her way? What is at stake? Basically, you need to tell me what this story is--without giving it all away. This is not the time to be overly coy or subtle. You are vulnerable but if you’ve done your job well it is damn compelling. Draw me in. Thrill me. Scare me. Endear yourself to me.
These pages are also where you establish your genre and set the tone. Is it a comedy? Horror? Action Adventure? Firmly planting your story in an established genre gives me some concrete expectations with which to evaluate your script. Is your narrative world dark and brooding or all sweetness and light? Whatever you establish here, you must not break. Nothing frustrates me more than inconsistency in writing. You can combine genres but don’t jump from one to another. Mucking about with tone also takes me out of the world you’ve created. So make a choice and stick to it. With these elements in place I’m set up for a big pay off at the end. Hopefully.
Premise – What are you trying to say?
Okay, so I’ve made it through the first few pages and I’m interested. But before Act One closes I need to know that this script is really about. Sure, it’s about a plucky young orphan whose quirky view of life drives her stodgy foster parents crazy but who will eventually win over their hearts and minds with her “never say die” attitude. But what is it really about? What is the writer trying to say about life and/or the world we live in? While some may disagree, I think the best scripts have a strong premise. Some, like Robert McKee, call this the controlling idea. Others, like William Goldman, call this the spine. Whatever you choose to call “it” it is what your script is really about. You should have something to prove. Man’s inhumanity to man? Too general. You always hurt the ones you love? Good, this implies growth. Blind faith in anything will get you killed? Even better, this indicates character, conflict and conclusion. These are Lajos Egri’s building blocks of drama. You’ve found your footing and are striding across that rope with confidence. Now that you have established your premise you must spend the rest of the second act confirming and contradicting it until you finally have to prove it in Act Three.
Structure/Pacing – Form not Formula
In screenwriting--unlike life--specific things happen at specific times. These events are structured in such a way that they take the audience on a journey. The structure becomes a map of that journey. Without this map the audience becomes lost, confused and will abandon the journey. I often hear neophytes mistake formula for form. Yes, most Hollywood moves are formulaic. Adam Sandler meets a girl (probably Drew Barrymore); they fall in love; something happens; they break up; then he gets her back and loses her as a many times as he can in 35 to 40 minutes. Before apparently losing her for good only to get her back with five minutes to spare. That’s formula. The three-act structure is form. Some say this is limiting. I think it is the limitation itself that forces us to be more creative. Think of it like a deadline. When you know you have to hand something in by Friday noon, you do it even if you stay up all night. The three-act structure forces the writer to make things happen by page 15, 26, 62, 85 and 100. Act One sets the scene and players. Act Two is the rising action where the protagonist experiences highs and lows, victories and defeats. Then comes a turning point and a resolution for better or worse in Act Three. If your story events (or plot points) seem to happen randomly or don’t happen at all you are making an obscure art house film (cue the pantomime horses) or you don’t get screenwriting. Either way, you are losing me.
Character/Dialogue – What are they sayin'?
I generally have two main problems with character in the scripts I read. First and foremost is the difference between character and characterization. Character is who the person is. Characterization is how the person is described. A maverick cop, with a chip on his shoulder because of a strawberry birthmark on his face, is characterization. A maverick cop who faces up to his feelings of inadequacy over losing his partner in a bizarre circus incident by saving a clown from being trampled by an elephant is character. As McKee says, conflict reveals character. Too many writers think it is enough to give their characters a funny hat and strange dialect. Adam Sandler in Mr. Deeds is characterization. Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love is character. I didn’t see Spanglish.
I encounter numerous problems with dialogue but the most obvious one is characters who say exactly what is on their mind. Sure, your character can be a brash iconoclast who says what everyone else just thinks, but even he will still have an internal censor. People as a whole are guarded and closed-off. We don’t sit down with people we barely know and start telling them all about our torturous love life. McKee calls this “California Conversation” because it only happens in California. Sure, we all know people who pour their heart out when you ask “how’s it goin’?”, but eventually we avoid them. Real, complex individuals hold things back, don’t say what they mean, communicate in subtext, force you to read between the lines. This is the stuff of great movie dialogue. So, look at what you have written. Is your character saying exactly what she feels or thinks? If so, you have some work to do.
Visuals/Action – Show, Don’t Tell
As Syd Field says, a screenplay is a story told with pictures. Dialogue is important but you want to show, not tell. I’ve read so many scripts that do not make their stories visual. It is just:
And so on for five to seven pages…
Again this is a balancing act. Three pages of margin to margin text describing the gentle descent of a lotus blossom into the stream will put any reader to sleep. By the same token, 10 pages of non-stop dialogue is really hard to shoot while keeping the scene dynamic. Keep in mind that everything in a script must be integrated into the story. Nothing is arbitrary. Everything you show must have a purpose. It must advance the story or develop the character. Your descriptions of action and visuals should take the reader through a series of shots. Your pen or word processor is the camera lens. Give me, the reader, enough information to create your scene in my mind, but don’t dress the set for me.
The people you are sending your script to have read more than you will ever write. They’ve seen it all and then some. When you master the elements I have outline above and integrate them into your work you can convince me that you know what you are doing. You need to find that balance. If your story is good, then you dramatically improve your odds of nailing a “consider”. When you start introducing advanced techniques like image systems and dual character arcs you could even achieve a “recommend”. But I’ve already said enough. Like they say in show biz, always leave them wanting more.
Hul-lo, it’s your friendly neighbourhood script reader back again. Last issue I introduced you to the concept of gatekeepers and allies and provided some tips to help you and your script get on my good side. I would like to take this one step further and explain how and why scripts fall apart. Screenwriting is like a tightrope walk - think of this column as extending the balancing pole of “craft” to you. After reading hundreds of scripts I have distilled the following five key elements that every aspiring screenwriter must keep in mind:
1. The First Five Pages - Setting the Stage
2. Premise – What am I Trying to Say?
3. Structure – Form v. Formula
4. Character and Dialogue – What
They Are Trying to Say?
5. Visuals and Action – Show, Don’t Tell.
The First 5 Pages - Setting the Stage
Cast your mind back to last issue. You may recall that I told you how I could suss out your amateur status in the first five pages. Not only do those pages establish your level of professionalism, but they must engage me by relating some key information. Who is the protagonist? What is her problem? What is she going to do about it? Who stands in her way? What is at stake? Basically, you need to tell me what this story is--without giving it all away. This is not the time to be overly coy or subtle. You are vulnerable but if you’ve done your job well it is damn compelling. Draw me in. Thrill me. Scare me. Endear yourself to me.
These pages are also where you establish your genre and set the tone. Is it a comedy? Horror? Action Adventure? Firmly planting your story in an established genre gives me some concrete expectations with which to evaluate your script. Is your narrative world dark and brooding or all sweetness and light? Whatever you establish here, you must not break. Nothing frustrates me more than inconsistency in writing. You can combine genres but don’t jump from one to another. Mucking about with tone also takes me out of the world you’ve created. So make a choice and stick to it. With these elements in place I’m set up for a big pay off at the end. Hopefully.
Premise – What are you trying to say?
Okay, so I’ve made it through the first few pages and I’m interested. But before Act One closes I need to know that this script is really about. Sure, it’s about a plucky young orphan whose quirky view of life drives her stodgy foster parents crazy but who will eventually win over their hearts and minds with her “never say die” attitude. But what is it really about? What is the writer trying to say about life and/or the world we live in? While some may disagree, I think the best scripts have a strong premise. Some, like Robert McKee, call this the controlling idea. Others, like William Goldman, call this the spine. Whatever you choose to call “it” it is what your script is really about. You should have something to prove. Man’s inhumanity to man? Too general. You always hurt the ones you love? Good, this implies growth. Blind faith in anything will get you killed? Even better, this indicates character, conflict and conclusion. These are Lajos Egri’s building blocks of drama. You’ve found your footing and are striding across that rope with confidence. Now that you have established your premise you must spend the rest of the second act confirming and contradicting it until you finally have to prove it in Act Three.
Structure/Pacing – Form not Formula
In screenwriting--unlike life--specific things happen at specific times. These events are structured in such a way that they take the audience on a journey. The structure becomes a map of that journey. Without this map the audience becomes lost, confused and will abandon the journey. I often hear neophytes mistake formula for form. Yes, most Hollywood moves are formulaic. Adam Sandler meets a girl (probably Drew Barrymore); they fall in love; something happens; they break up; then he gets her back and loses her as a many times as he can in 35 to 40 minutes. Before apparently losing her for good only to get her back with five minutes to spare. That’s formula. The three-act structure is form. Some say this is limiting. I think it is the limitation itself that forces us to be more creative. Think of it like a deadline. When you know you have to hand something in by Friday noon, you do it even if you stay up all night. The three-act structure forces the writer to make things happen by page 15, 26, 62, 85 and 100. Act One sets the scene and players. Act Two is the rising action where the protagonist experiences highs and lows, victories and defeats. Then comes a turning point and a resolution for better or worse in Act Three. If your story events (or plot points) seem to happen randomly or don’t happen at all you are making an obscure art house film (cue the pantomime horses) or you don’t get screenwriting. Either way, you are losing me.
Character/Dialogue – What are they sayin'?
I generally have two main problems with character in the scripts I read. First and foremost is the difference between character and characterization. Character is who the person is. Characterization is how the person is described. A maverick cop, with a chip on his shoulder because of a strawberry birthmark on his face, is characterization. A maverick cop who faces up to his feelings of inadequacy over losing his partner in a bizarre circus incident by saving a clown from being trampled by an elephant is character. As McKee says, conflict reveals character. Too many writers think it is enough to give their characters a funny hat and strange dialect. Adam Sandler in Mr. Deeds is characterization. Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love is character. I didn’t see Spanglish.
I encounter numerous problems with dialogue but the most obvious one is characters who say exactly what is on their mind. Sure, your character can be a brash iconoclast who says what everyone else just thinks, but even he will still have an internal censor. People as a whole are guarded and closed-off. We don’t sit down with people we barely know and start telling them all about our torturous love life. McKee calls this “California Conversation” because it only happens in California. Sure, we all know people who pour their heart out when you ask “how’s it goin’?”, but eventually we avoid them. Real, complex individuals hold things back, don’t say what they mean, communicate in subtext, force you to read between the lines. This is the stuff of great movie dialogue. So, look at what you have written. Is your character saying exactly what she feels or thinks? If so, you have some work to do.
Visuals/Action – Show, Don’t Tell
As Syd Field says, a screenplay is a story told with pictures. Dialogue is important but you want to show, not tell. I’ve read so many scripts that do not make their stories visual. It is just:
INT. EMPTY APARTMENT -- NIGHT
Two MEN sit in a room.
MAN 1
What’s your problem?
MAN 2
I was just about to ask you the same question.
And so on for five to seven pages…
Again this is a balancing act. Three pages of margin to margin text describing the gentle descent of a lotus blossom into the stream will put any reader to sleep. By the same token, 10 pages of non-stop dialogue is really hard to shoot while keeping the scene dynamic. Keep in mind that everything in a script must be integrated into the story. Nothing is arbitrary. Everything you show must have a purpose. It must advance the story or develop the character. Your descriptions of action and visuals should take the reader through a series of shots. Your pen or word processor is the camera lens. Give me, the reader, enough information to create your scene in my mind, but don’t dress the set for me.
The people you are sending your script to have read more than you will ever write. They’ve seen it all and then some. When you master the elements I have outline above and integrate them into your work you can convince me that you know what you are doing. You need to find that balance. If your story is good, then you dramatically improve your odds of nailing a “consider”. When you start introducing advanced techniques like image systems and dual character arcs you could even achieve a “recommend”. But I’ve already said enough. Like they say in show biz, always leave them wanting more.
READING BEGETS WRITING
Here are my top five all--time best screenwriting reference books. Or, at least the ones I’ve read to date on the subject.
1. STORY: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. by Robert McKee – Number #1 with a bullet, he’s the guru’s guru. He’s a little long-winded but the theory’s sound.2. The Art of Dramatic Writing by Lajos Egri – This is building block stuff. A good foundation in premises and character arcs, Essential reading.
3. The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell – Not technically a screenwriting book but if George Lucas used it a template for Star Wars its good enough for me. (Too bad he seems to have lost his copy).
4. Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting by Syd Field – Old school and formulaic but excellent baby steps into screenwriting.
5. Which Lie Did I Tell by William Goldman – This is mostly an insider search-and-destroy mission, but the final screenwriter hack-and-slash on his semi-script/treatment is very insightful.
