I've been meaning to write this post for a while, in a way that distills what I've found practical in my own screenwriting without coming off as boring or dry as paste. Obviously, I don't claim to be an expert by any means, and much of this I've learned through studying other films (hence this blog), especially when films with the money to do so much so well still get it wrong when it comes to their stories. But here are at least some things to think about when you're convinced you have a story worth telling to an audience.
HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY
This should be a no-brainer, right? That's why you've decided to write to begin with. But is your story able to sustain 80-120+ pages? Screenplays aren't usually one-track pieces. Even in comedies, there are themes, subjects of discussion, etc. that (at least should) tie thematically into the main story. You don't want your audience to feel like they've gotten nothing out of your film besides the spectacle and style. Even in films where style is the substance, there's usually an attempt to at least try to keep the audience's attention through characters and dialogue, i.e. Suzy as the audience surrogate in a child-like position of eventual power in Suspiria, or its remake thematically tying the story to Cold War-era Berlin.
"I am not a crackpot!"
Even before starting, it's probably best to nail down your film's tone right away, since this will affect everything in your script, from "the big picture" to the "little details", etc.
For one, are you aiming for an outright light comedy? A dramedy? A dark comedy? Some might not see much difference between the three, but it makes all the difference in the world when pertaining to what even happens in your script and how it's going to be framed.
That's not to say you can't induce mood whiplash if it's in service to your story, but you have to be damn careful to do it with consideration to everything that came before it, as you don't want to leave your audience continually unsure how to react.
This is also a large indicator of studio interference or "writing by committee" in many shows and films, since no two people's idea of a certain tone or interpretation is exactly the same. This is why the James Bond franchise can have such varying degrees of successful scripts despite many of the same people writing them.
Sadly, we never got to see Poochie belt it out as Dr. Scrivello.
SUBTEXT (AND CULTURAL CONTEXT)
What cultural factors, dynamics, roles, etc. do your characters represent? Do they have a universality to them? Are they relatable? How do they reflect real life? Are they idealized, or meant to be bitingly satirical?
This too is related to tone (see above), but your characters are also your instruments for your message and what they represent. Is your characters' business relationship played like a romantic one? Does your male protagonist buy a fancy new car while in the midst of a mid-life crisis? One of your protagonists might be keeping a secret, but is it the secret everyone's expecting it to be? How do you update older archetypes, when their old cultural reference points and societal factors have become literally obsolete?
Superman / Clark Kent is an old-fashioned, salt-of-the-earth farm boy
transplanted into the then-modern day late-70s, with all of the
contrast, subtext, and symbolic meanings intact.
In regards to setting, this can be a tad tricky. In large countries like the U.S. and Canada, where areas can be so diverse geographically and politically, it's important to establish the setting so audiences can easier buy into the story's subtext and context. (See "Little Details" below.) After all, if you set your story in 1940s Quebec, it's going to be quite unbelievable if a schoolhouse there is being run by the Mormons.
All in all, once you know what your story's subtexts and contexts are, how do you go about subverting expectations on that deeper level? (See below.)
SUBVERT EXPECTATIONS
Related to the next section below, audiences aren't stupid. They've all become somewhat savvy to the ins, outs, and old and new cliches of a genre or subgenre, whether with story or execution. Going to what's been done before runs the risk of boring your audience, unless you put a new spin on it. The Closer Look goes into more detail about the use of cliches here.
This also comes into play when writing contradictions for your characters. Everyone has them, however large (hypocrisy) or small (quirks and flaws), but knowing what you are going to do with those contradictions can help your script go in new directions and deal with new emotions that can be rare in other works with similar subjects.
Basically, know the tropes so you can subvert them.
Alison Sudol as Queenie Goldstein
Fantastic Beasts' mind-reading blonde is kind, sweet, and
empathetic, but also quick-thinking and highly self-aware.
RESPECT YOUR AUDIENCE
Had I titled this section Don't Treat Your Audience Like Idiots, you'd probably be a bit offended at its condescending tone. Hence why it's not all that good an idea to put that into screenplay form. No one likes to be lectured or treated like someone lesser when they typically go into a film wanting to have a good time. Sure, not everyone goes in wanting pure escapism, but even the best-intended film "with a message" can leave a bad taste in their mouths if executed without respect, nuance, or (even rarer) subtlety.
Similarly, if you do want escapism in your script, it's important to include enough grounding elements of realism, naturalism, etc. for your audience to grab onto. Escapism is not an excuse to leave logic, emotion, and the element of "cause and effect" at the door.
Lois Lane reacts as you'd expect when told by Superman with a straight face
that he's here "to fight for truth, and justice, and the American way".
Taking oneself too seriously typically spells doom for a superhero movie,
but Superman avoids that pitfall beautifully.
STREAMLINE, STREAMLINE, STREAMLINE!
A problem of many newer "tentpole" films is stuffing far too many characters, subplots, and events into one film, thus preventing most of them from having any semblance of depth or development. This writer may have a short attention span, but too many things to keep up with will always be worse than too few things with a chance of time devoted to them.
For example, Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald devotes so much time to the setup of new characters and subplots that it throws off its own structure, doubly so since several plotlines have zero relevance to the film they're in, and only function as setup for the next film in the series. With extended sequences of backstory and explanations, audiences can be bored by all these detours in the film's pacing, with little hope of recovery.
You may have an interesting line, twist, character dynamic, scene, or event for a script, but if you can't make it work organically, it's best to cut it altogether. That way, you'll have more time strengthening, elaborating on, and beautifying the elements that do work and are so top-to-bottom important to what you want to say.
LITTLE DETAILS
So you've decided what tone to strike, what setting to evoke, and what themes you want to tackle. Now you want to build on what you want to see. This, for me, is one of the most fun parts in screenwriting.
Going back to the setting, how do you make it stand out from all the other similar settings in film? Average small towns with nothing to do have gotten boring on film, so delve into its history. Real or fictional, all places have a history. Nanaimo, for example, started as a town tied to both coal mining and the Hudson's Bay Company. Eventually, it stood out for its Nanaimo Bars, Bathtub Races, and the image of longtime mayor Frank Ney (1918 - 1992).
Frank Ney and Bathtub Race exhibit at the Nanaimo Museum
Even the little things done to set your setting apart will be much appreciated by your audience, and show the degree of effort you've put into your story. After all, a setting can inform your characters more than you might think.
In terms of the characters themselves, little dialogue details can really do some heavy lifting in showing the audience who your characters are.
Cleveland Ohio, everybody.
Not every script has to have "realistic" dialogue. In real life, people misspeak, hesitate, hem, haw, and everything in between. But knowing your characters' "voices" will go a long way in informing their personalities, behavior, and motivations. While there's certainly a place for on-the-nose, unsubtle dialogue in a satire, for example, if you're aiming for realistic, slice-of-life dialogue, you're better off sticking "closer to earth".
Needless to say, The Simpsons is not a work known for its realistic dialogue.
This is a painful one, folks, but it's reality. No script is at its best in its first draft. Even Steven E. de Souza, who did so well rewriting the script for Die Hard, visibly struggled with 1994's Street Fighter (writing the first draft literally overnight) due to the tight deadline imposed on him by Capcom.
Totally worth it.
And hopefully, you'll grow to love your script enough to want to spend as much time as possible on it. In my experience, that love always comes through on the page.
TIDBITS AND SUCH
E.M. Welsh's post on crafting complex characters (among other posts) can be found on her blog here.
The Crimes of Grindelwald's story and script flaws are well-covered in these videos by Filmento, The Closer Look, Stephan Krosecz, Posh Prick Reviews, and Super Carlin Brothers.
Copyright © Chynna Moore
