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Monday, May 17, 2010

Script Readers are Detectives

By Julia Bergeron

I’m a detective. Actually, I’m a script consultant. Which is pretty much the same thing.

Okay, not exactly the same thing. But there are some similarities. Knowing them has made me a better writer. I’m sharing them with you so you can help your first audience – the reader – “get” your screenplay quickly and easily.

As a reader, I’m like a detective in several ways. A detective has to solve a mystery. So do I. A detective has to figure out the “who,” the “what” and the “why” of a crime. I have to figure out the “who,” the “what,” and the “why” of a script. The detective is curious. So am I.

When I get a script to read, I have no idea what story the writer is going to share with me. It’s a complete mystery. This means that as I read, I am looking for clues that will answer some fundamental questions.

Who is the story about? What is it about? What’s the genre? Where is the story going?

As a reader, that is my mindset – figuring out the story. Knowing the reader’s mindset can shape decisions about when and how we introduce the protagonist. It can help us decide what pieces of information have to be setup early and what can wait. And what needs to be cut completely.

Let’s look at this in more detail.

As a reader, the first clue I have to your story is the title. Titles are a quick glimpse that tells us a lot. Is it a comedy? Is it a thriller? Hopefully the title gives the reader an indication. I know, I know. This sounds almost too simplistic, but titles set the stage. A title delivers information even before the reader opens the script. Deals have been made on the title alone. “Forty Year Old Virgin” anyone? A title can make a big difference in how quickly a reader “gets” your story. So create the best title you can.

The next clue is the look of the script on page one. Is it formatted correctly? Is there a nice balance of dialogue and action?

I know what you’re probably thinking. “Not another diatribe about formatting!” Okay, no. Not a diatribe. Just a word to the wise. Proper formatting is almost invisible. It’s true. Proper formatting allows the reader to focus on the story, while bad formatting calls attention to itself. Typos and formatting errors are like potholes. You can get past them, but it’s going to be a bumpy ride! Let your formatting be invisible so the reader can pay attention to the heart of your script – the story.

The next clue as to what your story is all about is the opening image. Many writers speed past this or give it very little thought. But when you watch a film, you can be sure the director thought long and hard about that first image. As writers, we have to put as much energy into that image as the production company will. For the reader, the opening image can help identify the genre, maybe the tone and sometimes the protagonist. It’s a hugely powerful moment and when it works well, it helps hook the reader right into your story. In just a few lines, they start to “get” it.

Naturally, one of the first things I want to know when I read a script is who the story is about – who is the protagonist? Until I know who the protagonist is, every named character is a suspect – any one of them could be the protagonist.

And even more specifically, in terms of identifying the protagonist, the first character who speaks is my prime suspect. Rightly or wrongly. And I keep my eye on that person.

This means, if the first person who speaks is not your protagonist, they should probably be important. That character has the reader’s full attention. So you might as well use that fact to introduce an important character and not a walk on.

Remember, the first characters I meet get my full attention. I automatically assume they are important.

Another thing to bear in mind is that if you surround your protagonist with lots of other named characters, particularly in the first ten pages, it’s hard for a reader to keep track of them all and to separate the protagonist from the crowd.

It’s much easier for a reader to identify the protagonist if the protagonist is not part of a cast of thousands. Again, it might sound simplistic but often we want to show the protagonist in action. And sometimes that means surrounding the protagonist with staff, helpers, a few henchmen, minions, whatever. If that’s the case with your script, try to make sure the protagonist stands out from the crowd. Give them a protagonist’s entrance or moment so the reader “gets” it right away. Help the reader solve the “who” early.

By making it clear early who the story is about, the reader can focus on finding out what your story is about. This is sometimes a little harder than it looks.

Often as writers we are told to be lean and mean and that readers don’t like to read lots of details and action. This is partly true but maybe not for the reasons you might expect.

When I read a screenplay, I pay close attention to every detail. Like a detective, I have to assume all the information is important since I wouldn’t want to miss a clue as to what the story is about.

You see, I don’t know which detail is a setup, which is an important character trait, or what piece of information will payoff off at the end. So, to me, it’s all equally important. But obviously just like in any mystery, it isn’t actually all equally important. Some things are crucial, some are interesting and some are distractions. Some things, like red herrings, are distracting on purpose. And some are distractions the story can do without.

Here’s an example. Suppose you write a scene where a guy cleans his kitchen after a dinner party. Around ten p.m., he puts away all the food, sweeps, and loads the dishwasher. He carefully puts all the knives in the dishwasher with the tips facing down. All but one. One knife he places tip up. As a reader that knife is like a bright, shiny object to a monkey! It’s fascinating. It grabs my attention and holds it for the entire script. I am waiting for somebody to use that knife, or slice their hand on that knife. I am waiting for the knife to payoff.

But what if the writer only put that knife in the scene to demonstrate the character was not detail oriented? And there is no knife payoff, ever. Here’s me: “Sad. Sniff. No knife payoff? But I was sure...” No, actually, I was just a monkey distracted by an interesting detail. Don’t turn your reader into a distracted monkey by including fascinating details that don’t pay off.

The thing is, for most readers it is simply not possible to retain page after page of tremendous detail. Not that the details aren’t interesting, imaginative, or accurate. Often they are all those things. And that’s part of the problem. Details can be overwhelming. When that happens, the reader will automatically try to retain the details we think are most important. And we’re not always right.

Let’s take the same scene above with the knife. Suppose this was a murder mystery and a crucial detail in that scene was that the food was put away at ten p.m. But, me, distracted as I was by the very interesting (and shiny!) knife, didn’t notice the time. I’m waiting for the knife to pay off but meanwhile the writer was trying to setup the time. I missed that important detail. So when the payoff for ten p.m. comes, it won’t have the punch it could have, because the setup was missed.

This is why we are advised to be lean and mean and to include only what is necessary to move the story forward: because the reader is trying to sort out the important clues. Therefore when you only include the important information, you eliminate the possibility of the reader making a wrong choice and focusing on the wrong detail. They won’t be confused and “the what” will be much clearer, much earlier. So being lean and mean is a great tool to help your reader “get” your story.

That’s not to say you can’t include red herrings or take some poetic license here and there. You can and you should. But do know that it’s up to you to direct the reader’s attention and make sure you help them solve the “mystery” of your script.

Once I’ve gotten the genre, the who, and the what, I’m good to go. You’ve hooked me and I am ready for the ride. I love discovering where the story goes, seeing if the setups pay off and how, and seeing what outcome the author has in store for the protagonist.

I get to solve a mystery every time I open a new script. It’s fascinating and fun. And what’s even better is that unlike a detective, I don’t have to have a mustache.

QUICK DOs and DON’Ts:

Do come up with the best title you can.

Do grab the reader’s attention with a well thought out opening image.

Do introduce your protagonist to the reader right away. We want to know who the story is about, so let us know early.

Don’t overwhelm your reader with dozens of named characters in the first ten pages. I couldn’t remember everybody I met in college and I’m not better at names now.

Do use proper formatting.

Don’t overwhelm us with cool details that don’t move the story forward. Focus the reader’s attention where you want it – not where our own distractible brains might take us.

Do remember, most readers love stories. I know I do. Help us fall in love with yours by giving us the clues we need to “get” it and by giving us those clues as early as possible.

And most of all, do keep writing!


Ms. Bergeron is a script consultant with Script Savvy.
For more information, visit: http://www.scriptsavvy.net/96501.html
Email: thescriptconsultant@gmail.com

Saturday, May 15, 2010



Writing Dialog
by Cat Stewart

It’s one of the trickiest parts of writing screenplays. You might soar at novel dialog, sing at short story dialog, or thrill friends and family with dialog you roll off at the dinner table but when it comes to a screenplay, you choke.

You don’t think you choke, but when you read your dialog and then read dialog written by say, William Goldman, it’s almost painful. Screenwriting gurus carp all the time about how you can’t teach anyone to write good dialog. Is that because they lack the ability to do it themselves?

To start with, you really have to study the way people talk. Eavesdrop like crazy. I keep a journal of turns of phrase or subject matter that I think would make for good dialog. Take it one step further. Go to a coffee shop with a notepad. Sit next to a table of people that are talking. Jot down everything you assume about them based on what they say.

Dialog is not conversation. If you were to tape record two people talking and put it down word for word on a paper it would fair poorly. Dialog is simulation of conversation that passes on information we need for the story.

So without a primer, I set out to figure out the trick on my own. Here are my discoveries:

Step one – Read it out loud. If you tongue trip and gasp for breath midway through the two inch stack of words you put on the page, so will Brad Pitt.

Step two – When you have made it something you can read without turning blue, record it. Then put your favorite movie on you MP3 player. Alternate back and forth listening to the two when you are driving to the market.

Step three – Now that you’ve revised your dialog to sound more like something that is actually spoken in a produced screenplay, figure out what it says. What it probably says is:



ROBERT
Hi, Jana. How are you today?



JANA
I’m fine Robert and you?



ROBERT
I’m going to go get something to eat.



JANA
Robert, that sounds lovely.



ROBERT
Well Jana, you could come along.



JANA
I need to wash my hair, Robert.



ROBERT
I see. Well have a nice night, Jana.


Okay, wake up. The dialog is short, direct, all the things they say it should be with one cardinal sin that most new writers make….using names excessively. Even if you do it in real life, don’t do it in your screenplay. What the dialog isn’t is interesting. This is the type of dialog that readers would term “on the nose.” I know what you’re thinking, there’s no way to make that interesting.. Oh yeah? Well watch me.

The only two ways you have to create a picture in the mind of your reader is to write scene description and your dialog. If you write long, flowing scene description with asides that tell the reader what your character is thinking, your script will be 300 pages and in the bottom of the script dumpster. So guess what. That leaves us with dialog.

What does the dialog above say? Only that Robert wants to take Jana to dinner. We can assume this is a date, but could be Robert’s a serial killer looking for his next victim, (that’s not going in the action line or set description) a lawyer trying to woo the prosecutor into a light sentence, a dorky teenaged kid talking to the prom queen on a dare.

If the dialog was well written you wouldn’t need a slug, an action line or description of the characters to determine which of those it is. The dialog would tell you everything you need to know. So step three is simple, yet hard to do. Step three is that the dialog should tell us so much more than Robert and Jana won’t be eating together.

The things it should tell? Something about our character’s personality, age, status, a window to who that character is. Is he shy? Is he bold? Slick or sincere? The dialog should tell us something about what’s to come, why this scene is happening. The dialog should tell us something about the relationship of these two people. Nasty tall order for a few words on dinner.

So let’s try again.



ROBERT
Hi Jana.. How are you today?



JANA
I’m fine Robert and you?



ROBERT
I hear you are a big fan of blackened shrimp.



JANA
Haven’t had a decent one since I left New Orleans.



ROBERT
Then you should join me at Sousa’s.



JANA
I need to wash my hair, Robert.



ROBERT
Well if that’s what it looks like dirty, I can’t wait to see it clean.

What do we see now? One, it is more likely that Robert is looking for a date. Glad we got that cleared up. How do we know? Well he wasn’t likely to make a comment about here appearance if he was looking for a business favor. Yet if that’s what this turns out to be, a business proposition, we just learned something about the character that isn’t written in action. That would make him slick, maybe inappropriate, definitely bold. We know that he’s asked around about her, we know she’s from out of town.

Let’s try harder.



ROBERT
Hey, Jana isn’t it?



JANA
Yes and you’re….Robert.



ROBERT
I’m starving after that six hour deposition.



JANA
Feuding spouses can have that effect.



ROBERT
You should join me at Sousa’s; great blackened shrimp.



JANA
You’ve done your research, but I don’t think we should.



ROBERT
Maybe not in the Big Easy, but here the opposing part stops at the door.

Okay, loads more information. Admit it. You want to know who these people are now, don’t you? You want to know if they are going to go to dinner, wind up in love, or if he’s going to screw her over to win her case. Because in a similar amount of words on the same subject as the first try you just found out:

1. They are divorce lawyers on opposite sides of the same case.
2. They’ve noticed each other
3. Robert is the home town favorite and Jana is an outsider from New Orleans
4. He’s checked her out and she’s interested in him, but has strong business ethics.
5. Robert has a lot of confidence, he’s hitting on the opposing attorney.

Can we do more? It will take a few more words, but lets try. Short snappy dialog that really moves the story forward.



ROBERT
Well Jana, that was one hell of a opening question.



JANA
You countered it well….Robert, right?



ROBERT
At your service. Six hour depositions leave me dehydrated and starving. I hear you’ve been looking for a decent blackened shrimp.



JANA
I haven’t had a decent one since I left New Orleans. Although it looks like the specialty around here is shark.



ROBERT
Spending your time with spurned women sharpens your teeth. Did I mention Sousa’s has the authentic hurricane recipe?



JANA
Is that your strategy? Ply opposing counsel with booze and blackened shrimp?



ROBERT
Around here the word opposing ends at the courtroom door. It has to. With the hours we work, the lawyer would becomeextinct if it didn’t.

What more does this tell us about the characters. Well you figure that out for yourself. It’s how you learn to write great dialog after all. Check out the dialog in your writing buddy’s script. Don’t read anything but the dialog. Write down everything you know about the character based only on that for the first ten pages. Now apply what you just learned to your own work.

"(Cat Stewart is a freelance writer currently living in Nashville, Tennessee. Cat completed the certificate program in Feature Film and Television writing at UCLA extension and is currently a Writer’s Bootcamp Fellow.)"

Friday, April 30, 2010

Replicants Are The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

Recently I DVRed this micro-budget oddity on AMC. Seeing the tacky color sets and that the leading man was B-western 2nd henchman Don Megowan (a dead ringer for B-western legend Rod Cameron -- did they ever play brothers? They should have), thinking it'd be good for a few laughs and decided to watch a couple of minutes.



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Instead I stayed with it to the end, fascinated. The plot deals with humans who have invented androids that are so perfect -- and lifelike -- that they threaten mankind's power and very existence. So paranoid humans set up a resistance movement.

Sound familiar? This is 1962 remember, a full 6 years before Philip K. Dick would publish his brilliant novel Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? and two decades before that book would be filmed as Blade Runner.

COTH even shares that film's plot twist,
[SPOILER ALERT]
in which the robot-hating protagonist turns out to be a robot himself.



Philip K. Dick's was a fan of pulp science fiction and may have seen the film. Or maybe not. Perhaps COTH's premise was old-hat in SF literary circles of the 1950s (it owes a not inconsiderable debt to Karel Capek's 1920s play RUR). That doesn't alter the fact that it still predates Dick.

The film also bears a strong resemblance to the 1st season Star Trek episode "What Are Little Girls Made Of?" But whereas Star Trek regarded the idea of humans being transferred to "perfect" robot bodies for virual immortality as a horrifying and inhuman disaster which Kirk must stop at all costs, in COTH it is fascinatingly treated as a happy ending.

COTH's curious makeup -- in which several actors have Larry Semonish pasty-white faces, but unmade-up necks -- is by Jack Pierce, who in better days created Karloff's look for Frankenstein. The cinematography, incredibly, is by Oscar winner Hal Mohr (who in 1935 shot A Midsummer Night's Dream for Max Reinhardt). Perhaps Mohr's presence kept the film was stumbling into Ed Wood territory (despite the presence of Plan 9 vet Dudley Manlove, who's rather more restrained here).

An interesting side-note: This film was made in 1962. At one point the main character mentions opposing "integration" with robots, and the derogatory slur for androids is "clickers." It is not uncommon for science fiction to be used as social criticism, such as the apartheid parallels in the recent DISTRICT 9.

One last thing I noticed. This film uses the word "humanoid" as a combination of human and android (which I presume was the original meaning). By the latter half of the '60s Star Trek was using the word to describe human-like life-forms.

COTH should be seen by all Blade Runner fans, and by any movie buff intrigued by poverty row auteurs trying to do something different on a grade Z budget. It cries out for cult status.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Comedy Set-Ups: The Audition Scene

OR... Please leave your name at the desk, we'll call you if something comes up...

A comedy technique popular in recent years is the audition.

Its beginnings seemed harmless enough. The Marx Brothers did one in their breakthrough show, the 1924 revue I'll Say She Is!, which they would film in the early '30s for a Paramount promotional film:



The Three Stooges used the idea several times in their shorts, and there was a funny version in the 1976 Saturday Night Live episode hosted by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore. Cook played a theatre director who visits a prison (to stage an all-inmate production of... Gigi!) Various convicts (played by the then little-known Not Ready For Prime Time Players) try out for the show. Clearly, the audition device was very convenient when you had a group of comedians -- it allowed you to let them do their things without requiring a lot of exposition.

But there had been a more significant version of the bit in 1968, in Mel Brooks' The Producers.



In 1931, all people did was laugh with the Marx Brothers and the crazy antics they pull on the producer. But by 1968, audiences were expected to laugh at the auditioners, and voyeuristically enjoy their humiliation. It may be no coincidence that 1968 also saw the premiere of the first mockumentary, Pat Paulsen For President.

These two forms, the audition and the mockumentary, would eventually become closely linked. In 1979 Albert Brooks did an audition scene in Real Life. Not surprisingly Brooks, who specialized in being an ironist rather than simply a comedian -- many of his standup bits were commentaries on comedy itself, and he even wrote a self-help parody for Esquire called "The Albert Brooks School For Comedians" -- chose to emphasize his own "weirdness", and let the audience identify with the "normal" people on the committee
judging him.

In the nineties, when the audition would be become a fixture in the mockumentaries of Christopher Guest, the mockumentary form itself became more and more popular. It's easy to make and cheap to produce, so certain filmmakers liked it as well. Coming to prominence at the same time was something called "reality television", where viewers get to voyeuristicaly enjoy the humiliation of people being judged by a committee. Networks loved "reality", since It's easy to make and cheap to pro-- you get the idea.

This link had already been established in 1979, as Brooks' (Albert, that is) Real Life was a parody of the famous PBS series An American Family (yes, voyeurism and humiliation started on Public TV. So that's where my pledge money is going).

The cheerleading film BRING IT ON popularized the audition scene most recently. One wannabe cheerleader after another doing their failed attempt to make the squad. Easy set-up and provides a context to introduce a parade of colorful characters.

It was spoofed later in the underrated film NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE:



Take that set-up -- a number of colorful characters parade by in quick cuts -- and put it in a new setting and you've got the speed dating scene from 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN. (Written by Judd Apatow and Steve Carell.) Shows the formula can be used in other situations and generate big laughs.

Just another weapon in your comedy arsenal: The Audition.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

One-Downmanship

The little-remembered film Luv was released in 1967. It was based on the 1964 play by Murray Schisgal that was half conventional comedy, half Theatre of the Absurd. So you can imagine how disastrous the film version is.

But the "Neil Simon" first half of the film is often pretty funny. Reviews claimed the direction is heavy handed (this is true -- it's New York material, so for some reason they chose an Englishman to direct) and the three leading roles were miscast. Admittedly the extremely whitebread Jack Lemmon isn't always comfortable in the lead (the role was originated on stage by Alan Arkin), but I thought Peter Falk was great and Elaine May was almost as good. The best parts come across as strung-together Nichols and May sketches.

The reason I bring it up is because of what IMO is the film's best scene (which I presume was in the original play), where Lemmon and Falk try to top each other on who had the more miserable childhood:

FALK: My father beat me.
LEMMON. Mine beat me too. What'd yours use?
FALK: (smugly) A strap!.
LEMMON: (quietly taking pride in his victory) Chains.

What legendary English comedy sketch does that remind you of?



While the movie version of Luv debuted in the summer of '67 and At Last The 1948 Show had premiered in February of that year, the play opened in 1964 and probably played in London at some point. Even if it hadn't, John Cleese was based in NY in 1964-5 and could have seen it. Intriguing, at the very least.

Also intriguing is the short story "Self Made Men" by the Canadian humorist Stephen Leacock (a favorite writer of Robert Benchley, Groucho Marx and Jack Benny), published in 1910:

"Draught!" sneered the other man, with a provoking laugh,"draught! Don't talk to me about draughts. This box I speak of had a whole darned plank off it, right on the north side too. I used to sit there studying in the evenings, and the snow would blow in a foot deep. And yet, sir," he continued more quietly, "though I know you'll not believe it, I don't mind admitting that some of the happiest days of my life were spent in that same old box. Ah, those were good old times! Bright, innocent days, I can tell you. I'd wake up there in the mornings and fairly shout with high spirits. Of course, you may not be able to stand that kind of life--"

"Not stand it!" cried Robinson fiercely; "me not stand it! By gad! I'm made for it. I just wish I had a taste of the old life again for a while. And as for innocence! Well, I'll bet you you weren't one-tenth as innocent as I was; no, nor one-fifth, nor one-third! What a grand old life it was! You'll swear this is a darned lie and refuse to believe it--but I can remember evenings when I'd have two or three fellows in, and we'd sit round and play pedro by a candle half the night."

"Two or three!" laughed Jones; "why, my dear fellow, I've known half a dozen of us to sit down to supper in my piano box, and have a game of pedro afterwards; yes, and charades and forfeits, and every other darned thing Mighty good suppers they were too! By Jove, Robinson, you fellows round this town who have ruined your digestions with high living, have no notion of the zest with which a man can sit down to a few potato peelings, or a bit of broken pie crust, or--"

For those who prefer to look at things from a psycho-sociological perspective, "Self Made Men" and "Four Yorkshiremen" are bits of witty silliness and gradually increasing absurdity you don't take seriously, while in the New York variation of Luv you can actually feel the pain of childhood traumas and alienation... Both spoof the stock characters (their pomposity or self-pity increases the humor) but from a unique perspective.

This is yet another approach for the comedy writer to consider: Create an upside down world. Characters topping each other based on how low their pasts were is a reversal of the norm. Take the audience's expectations and... do the opposite. This is the first rule of comedy. And the second for some reason.