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Screenwriters are told not to put camera directions in scripts. That irritates directors. It is possible to put editing directions in scripts! If you want to read a script with built-in momentum take a look at the script of The Bourne Supremacy:


INT. THE AUDI/REST-STOP -- NIGHT
    BOURNE'S EYES OPENING! -- heart pounding -- springing up --
    alone -- damn, his side hurts -- recoiling from that --
    where is he? -- he's in the car -- looking around and --
   
    HIS WINDSHIELD POV
    AN AUTOBAHN REST-STOP. Gas station. Sleeping trucks.
   
    BACK TO
    BOURNE catching his breath -- shifting away from the pain
    in his rib -- checking his watch -- but what the hell is
    that on his sleeve? -- fuck, it's BLOOD -- JARDA's blood --
   
EXT. AUTOBAHN REST-STOP -- NIGHT
    BOURNE out of the car fast -- careless -- wrong -- not even
    checking who's watching -- pulling off the shirt -- tearing
    it off -- throwing it down and --
    Standing there. In the weird light. A big bruise ripening
    on his side. Looking around.
    It's okay. Nobody's watching. But, shit, man...
    Get it together.
   
INT. PEUGEOT -- AUTOBAHN -- NIGHT
    Streaking along. BOURNE back to his mission.

I’m not sure if I could choose between writing scenes like this or editing scenes like this!

When writing scripts, Syd Field says that you should only use flashbacks when there is no other way to give the facts to the audience. Flashbacks should happen in response to a character’s emotional state. They have been triggered by something in the present that reminds them of an extreme emotion in the past.

The rule of only using flashbacks when there is no other way reminds me of a similar rule about dialogue. Screenplays are about telling stories with pictures. Only use dialogue if the information cannot be got across with pictures alone.

You can find ideas that could be explored in screenplays in odd places.

The following quote comes from an article on the search for a new manager for England’s football team:

One can only truly love someone if they exist to some degree outside the sphere of your control; if in a relationship you can dominate someone completely how can they offer salvation? How can they place their self between you and death?

To see the rest of the article (with no further thematic material) visit The Guardian’s website – you may need to register for free to read more. Alternatively, you can read the Google cached version while it lasts.

I’ve always said: “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

When basing screenplays on biography or events from your own life, Syd Field says

You can use this particular experience as the starting point in your story, but as you go through the preparation process, you’ll find that you want to hold on to the “reality” of the experience; you want to be “true” to the situation or incident. Most people find it hard to let go of the experience. But often, you’ve got to let “reality” go in order to dramatize it more effectively.

I liken it to climbing a staircase: the first step is the actual experience, the second step is increasing the dramatic potential of a story, and the third step is integrating both of the previous steps to create a “dramatic reality.” If you remain too true to “who did what” in the “real” order of the experience, it usually ends up as a thin story line with little or no dramatic impact. Do not feel “obligated” to remain “true” to reality. It doesn’t work. The “reality” of an event may, and often does, get in the way of the dramatic needs of your story.
[…]
The actual history of the event has to be maintained but you don’t have to be true to the emotional, day-to-day events, leading up to the historical incident. Just look at All The President’s Men, Ray, Erin Brokovich and JFK. History is only the starting point, not the end point.

Of course this also applies to game shows, documentaries, news reports…

Ben Affleck. Pretty-boy actor with a mildly interesting love life, right? I recently listened to a podcast that reminded me that he is also an Oscar-winning screenwriter.

In ths podcast from Creative Screenwriting Magazine (iTunes, mp3) he is promoting the film he co-wrote and directed Gone Baby Gone. He covers many screenwriting subjects very quickly including how to adapt the fourth in a series of books as if it were the first, and the many advantages of speaking your dialogue to see if actors can say it:

15:50 – “Writers think about dialogue as ‘getting from A to B’ or having some thematic connection to something. None of that means anything if it can’t be delivered in a way that works. […Sometimes] it doesn’t sound like a human being talking”

If you haven’t seen the film, make sure you stop the podcast at 21:05 as there are huge spoilers for the end of the film.

Here is part one of my expanded notes from the Soho Screenwriters meeting on elements of the thriller genre.

Thrillers are about ordinary people in a recognisable world. Their jumping off point is the human condition. Of the mainstream genres, it is closest to drama. Despite this realism, in order for the machinations of the plot to work, thrillers are the most contrived sort of film.

The classic thriller

The antagonist has a scheme – they don’t know about the protagonist-to-be. The hero stumbles onto the conspiracy. They try to fix the situation. Their flaw leads them into more and more danger instead of making themselves safer. Eventually the antagonist must kill the hero for their plan to succeed. The audience must identify with the hero’s struggle to stay alive – “It could happen to me!”

The hero doesn’t have any special abilities or powers – more like the audience. They would never kill anyone. Their disbelief drives them into the plot. At the turning point they abandon naiveté and embrace reality. They eventually kill in defence or on behalf of others. Their ‘license to kill’ comes is granted by the audience.

Trapped in modern society. The collapse of the world as the hero knows it. A fish out of water. Isolated physically, isolated psychologically (through betrayal). Greatness is thrust upon them. Needs to sort themselves out (psychologically) before sorting the story.

Story takes place over a specific compressed short period of time. 90 pages is enough – good for budget and scope. Set up a clock: A bomb, an assassination. Further into to the story, the spaces and times contract in each scene. Kyle MacLachlan in Blue Velvet ends up in a closet.

1. Welcome to hero’s ordinary world
2. Event forces them to see dark side of community or institution
3. Seeks help from friend
4. Friend turns to be untrustworthy
5. No-one can be trusted – Hero alone to fix problem
6. The hero fixes themselves
7. Act 3: Antagonist on the back foot
8. Hero wins

Irony

Two plots are needed: What appears to be going on – and what is actually going on. Thrillers sometimes let the audience know what the characters don’t know.

North by Northwest: Irony – we know she’s a baddie, Irony – we don’t know that Kaplan doesn’t exist, Irony – we know she hasn’t killed him at the ski resort, Irony – we don’t know that the baddies know about the blanks in the gun.

Stephen King thinks that plot is

The good writer’s last resort and the dullard’s first choice. The story that results from it is apt to feel artificial and laboured.

I lean more heavily on intuition, and have been able to do that because my books tend to be based on situation rather than story. Some of the ideas which have produced those books are more complex than others, but the majority start out with the stark simplicity of a department store window or a waxwork tableau. I want to put a group of characters (perhaps a pair; perhaps even just one) in some sort of predicament and watch them try to work themselves free. My job isn’t to help them work their way free, or manipulate them to safety […] but to watch what happens and then write it down.

I haven’t read any of his novels, but I think that Stephen King is probably a very good writer (despite his popularity). I don’t think what he says here applies to screenwriting, but it provides a guide to an alternative way of finding your story: trust your intuition.

For those working on horror screenplays here is my adaptation of the notes I took at yesterday’s meeting of the Soho Screenwriters writers’ group:

There are three kinds of horror film:

1. Man battles outside monster – [Jaws/Alien/Beowulf]
2. Man creates monster – [Frankenstein/The Fly (a romance)]
3. Man is the monster – [Silence of the Lambs/The Shining  (the dark side of man)] Torture (zeitgeist)

Differences in three act structure

By the end of act one it is clear who the monster is – the full extent of the horror. [Scream: a man with a mask stabs people / Alien: a big monster kills without remorse  / Texas Chainsaw Massacre: A person with a chainsaw kills people for no reason]. We may learn more about what is going on later [Poltergeist], but the nature of the threat doesn’t change. In a thriller the big event at the end of act one sets up that there is a mystery: “What is going on?”

Big event onwards – things get worse and worse (Usually first part of Act two allows for some success for protagonist before midpoint)

The third act is usually much shorter. The denouement is usually a false ending.

Detailed stages

Start with a hook – suspense from the start. [Scream: Someone on the phone with a killer]

Show hero and their flaw – make them human (thematic transformation only slight in horror)
A hero with a fear. Claustrophobia, vertigo etc. The fear they must overcome to win.

An isolated location: a trap [spaceship/house/caves] – An authentic setting that people can understand quickly. A beach, a spaceship, a house.

The hero, or a majority of the people in the hero’s group commits a transgression. The earliest horror stories are about immature heroes unintentionally trespassing in forbidden lands.

Tease audiences with ‘foreplay’ – cheap scares – cats jumping from cupboards. Is it always a real scare? Which is it this time? For unbalancing the audience. Make mental things physical. Things change shape and size. Antagonist appears in multiple unexpected places.

Act 2: Evil attacks – make sure there are at least two attacks – show how evil monster can be.

The primary aim is survival (not discovering the truth, getting the boy etc.)

The hero investigates: Find the truth behind the horror (heroes don’t run away).

Midpoint: The bravest/the leader of the group gets killed “we’re in real trouble now!”

Final confrontation: the protagonist wins over their fear and the monster. Using their brain – not their brawn.

Aftermath: everything has gone back to normal. Except the hero has changed.

Hint of a return…?

Scenes

Stephen King says that there are three levels of horror. Use at least one if not all in all of your scenes.

The first and most powerful is Terror – A character is being directly attacked. Horror happening immediately. [Psycho: the shower scene]
The next most powerful is Fear – Horror might happen at any moment. [Psycho: wandering around in cellar]
The least effective of the three is Revulsion – Horror that has already happened. Reacting to gore. [Psycho: Norman’s mother’s skeleton]

Terror is best, then try Fear, otherwise you need Revulsion. In every scene. Exhaust the audience with as many elements like this as possible.

The Protagonist

Not the most important character. There is a huge gap in power between protagonist and antagonist.

We can more easily empathise with an ordinary person, not too much depth (therefore no character arc).

The person who isn’t too funny/sexual/brave/rich/brave/intelligence… survives. The best balance of character traits wins out in the end.

The stages the protagonist goes through:
Apprehension –
Investigation –
Experimentation –
Rationalisation –
Rules of competence –
Intuition –
Rules of performance –
Absorb the evil – (may take on aspects of the monster to win out).

The Antagonist

Most important character: Create the monster first – films named after the most important character. [Jaws, Alien]

One-dimensional – one riveting contradiction
A spirit of evil – a pleasure in bad acts (you can’t reason with the monster)
Don’t explain the monster
Completely superior to protagonist (if not individually {zombies} make monster vastly superior in numbers)
Superior strength
Superior reflexes
Iconic tool (weapon)
Metaphysical powers (changing shape, locations)

These days mortal monsters more popular than supernatural forces.

Mythos more scary than monster itself (don’t show all of monster) – cheaper too. The mythos is all the tales told of the monster – its unlimited power, its unearthly nature. Praise the monster (compliments) – we get more scared of it – we feel protags have less chance [Ash praises the Alien, Quint is impressed by sharks].

Show monster’s effects in detail – don’t show monster. Once the monster is revealed in full it can finally be destroyed.

Why do most remakes not work? Why were the recent versions of ‘The Italian Job’ and ‘Alfie’ flops? Will the new version of ‘The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3′ surpass the original?

Screenwriters hit the big time if their script is on the zeitgeist. The zeitgeist is the dominant cultural perspective. To be ‘on the zeitgeist’ is to mark the change in this perspective. Rock and Roll occurred when the increase in disposable income in children created the concept of ‘the teenager.’ Punk happened when idealistic people realised that the hippies weren’t going to change anything that mattered.

The cultural consensus shapes and is shaped by cultural artefacts: art, drama, music, writing and film. Films that are part of an old cultural consensus cannot rely on the same philosophical identification when remade for a new audience.

That means the ideas that will be the biggest hit in a couple of years time will be ones that predict the cultural consensus at that time. Luckily most new movements come from the same place. What is underground today will challenge the conservative mainstream of tomorrow. That means you might have to listen to new music, seek out new writing, indulge what you might consider superficial – the fashionable and the cool.

They don’t all sound the same!

Matt Davis, video producer and teacher sent me a link to Celtx – a free software suite for screenwriters, directors and producers for Macs and PCs.

Free media production software from Celtx

You write your outline in the text editor; fill in index cards; write scripts; produce character, prop and location lists; organise storyboards and schedule your production.

The software is free. The publishers make money by selling web services to film makers. Looks like a good deal.