Movies: they move us, inspire us, and provide us with topics for lively conversation, even among perfect strangers.
Most of us have our favorites we frequently view; perhaps we can even recite lines from them. Then there are the disappointments—the
films we’ve wasted time and money upon, but which, in almost all of us, have ignited the firm belief that we can do a better job—if only
we knew how.
If you’ve ever wondered how to write for the movies you’re in luck, for you’ve just stumbled upon the first steps in deciphering what it
takes to write a script.
Step One: Watch Movies
This is part of the process? You bet!
Step Two: Read Movies
When I decided to launch into scriptwriting I wasn’t sure where to find scripts. I think I figured the major studios kept them locked
in their vaults to keep the mass of aspiring script writers out, or to channel writers into film schools. It’s actually easy to find
scripts: most bookstores carry them in published form, which is a handy way to tote about a favorite script to the beach or to your
child’s soccer practice.
But to see how a script looks and feels when it is presented to producers, the best bet is to visit a script website like
Script-O-Rama where you can download scripts free of charge. You’ll want to
click on the film scripts, not the transcripts. Transcripts are the resulting script after a movie is made (which is often the case of
the books that are published). To see what was edited out, you want an early draft of the script. That way, not only will you get a
feel for how a script works, feels, and looks, but you’ll also glean an idea of what constitutes fluff as the process moves from script
to screen. Or what was too expensive to be filmed.
Step Three: Watch Movies
Yep, we’re back to this step again. So, what are you waiting for? Grab a DVD, pop some popcorn, invite the family, a friend or two, or
simply curl up alone—and enjoy that flick.
Step Four: Start Dissecting
Did you enjoy the movie in Step Three? Why or why not? It’s okay if you can only utter something like, “I just did (or didn’t); I don’t
know why.” You’ll figure it out.
Step Five: Learn Character
What keeps us riveted to a screen for two hours? Why do we care what happens to our favorite characters? Why should we care what
happens? What if we don’t care? Why do I ask all these questions? Because it’s important to learn that a character’s wants and needs
drive the plot. The protagonist should want something so much that he or she is willing to do anything in order to obtain that goal.
Balanced against that should be an equally strong antagonist who will stop at nothing to keep the protagonist from achieving the goal.
Let’s look at an example:
In OCEAN’S ELEVEN what did George Clooney’s character Danny Ocean want? That’s right: Tess. At all costs. Even if it meant getting
caught violating parole and being sent back to jail. That was a risk he was willing to take. Now, what happened from there was
intriguing and engaging, but let’s face it, if Tess had been with Teri the moderately wealthy ranch owner in Montana, it would have been
a completely different movie. Ocean’s three or four, maybe as many as seven, would be my guess. And all of them on horseback. Not
nearly as fun as knocking off three casinos in an intricate and elaborate plan. And was Teri an equal power to be reckoned with? You
bet! He was not about to let Danny Ocean and his troupe waltz in and simply help themselves to the money in his safe.
In action adventures it’s usually easy to spot the protagonist, decipher his or her goals, and to find the antagonist. Spider Man/Peter
Parker wants to use his unusual powers to protect the city from evil, to catch the bad guys, and to keep innocent people safe—even if it
means giving up a chance at a normal life. The Green Goblin (SPIDER MAN I) and Doc Ock (SPIDER MAN II) are formidable foes who will stop
at nothing to keep Spider Man from ruining their plans.
In dramas it’s sometimes more difficult to spot the villains or to decipher what the hero is willing to lose in order to achieve his
goal. But guarantee that in the films that keep you engaged throughout you’ll be able to determine the hero’s journey and name the
obstacles to get there—even if the villain is internal (classic man vs. self conflict, probably the most difficult to portray on the
screen, especially if you refrain from using narration).
Step Six: Learn Conflict
Jack B. Sowards, who wrote STAR TREK II: WRATH OF KHAN, teaches in his UCLA Scriptwriting courses that unrelieved conflict and unanswered
questions power a script like gasoline powers a car. When we watch to the end of a movie to see what happens to the character, an
unanswered question has kept us hooked.
Last night as I sat with my family and watched the 1983 movie I AM THE CHEESE for the first time, we found the film slow and confusing,
but the main character engaged us enough so that we were willing to endure a slow storytelling pace, some frustrating recurring foes,
and a boring soundtrack to discover his big secret. Fortunately the pay off was worth our time and effort: it was a satisfying answer
to the mystery that surrounded the protagonist.
Conflict does not have to be huge. Sure, in action adventure flicks conflict often reveals itself in the form of expensive special
effects—high speed car chases and massive explosions, for example. But conflict, the kind that keeps us interested scene by scene,
occurs simply when two people each have a different agenda. Think about it: do you really want to tune in and see everyone getting
along? Sure, we want that for our own lives, but as an entertainment value everyone getting along equates to BORING.
That doesn’t mean we need a huge, high energy fight. Picture a couple in their car on the way to the hospital. She’s breathing
rhythmically, in heavy labor; he’s trying to keep his eyes on the road, avoid the potholes, and get his wife to the hospital quickly and
safely. He innocently says, “I can’t believe Jack is almost here.” “Jerry,” she says between breaths. “What?” he asks, a queer
undertone forming in his voice. She shoots a look at him, fighting to breathe away the pain. “But I thought we agreed on Jack,” he
says. “Jerry,” she states firmly, flatly, as he pulls into the hospital lot. Two separate agendas: conflict.
We don’t need to resolve it right away: after all, there’s our unanswered question. Which will it be? Jack or Jerry? Two scenes later
we might show Grandma in the hospital room, cuddling the baby. She waltzes over to her husband, nearly asleep in the chair, and coos,
“Look at him, Thomas.” Thomas smiles. “Little Tommy Junior is an absolute doll!” Hmm, there was even more conflict here then we
realized!
Step Seven: Learn Craft
Writing a script is similar to drafting a blueprint. Blueprints are extremely precise, utilizing the same style, lingo, etc., so that
any builder anywhere can pick up an architect’s rendering and decipher it. If an architect used unconventional methods, how could a
builder trust that the plans would work or that the resulting building would be safe.
It’s the same for scripts. There are certain rules that need to be followed so that any producer or director can pick up the script,
flip through it, and understand it, even get an accurate idea for how long the resulting movie would be (one page equals about one
minute). So here is a glimpse of a few rules of the trade:
Font: Courier New, Point Size 12.
Margins: one and a half inches on the left (leaving room for the three holes), one inch all other sides—top, bottom and right.
Start every script with: FADE IN: All capped, left flush, with a colon.
Slug Lines: INT. or EXT. Interior or exterior. We’re either inside or outside.
Place: Wherever your character takes you.
Day/Night: DAY or NIGHT. I know you’ll see loads of other choices in scripts you’ll read—early morning, sunset, dusk, but the
cinematographer will thank you for choosing day or night since cameras really only know light or dark. If you must convey first thing
in the morning, do so in the action paragraph: the lobster boats are just shoving off, or the person wakes to his alarm clock that reads
5:30 AM. The audience will understand it’s early in the morning.
So a Slug line looks like this: INT. TREEHOUSE -- NIGHT (flush left, all capped).
Action Paragraphs: Keep them short—three lines or fewer. Yes, you’ll see exceptions to this rule, but why I promote this is because
scripts read very quickly, especially as dialogue is spun, so don’t bog us down with bulky descriptive text. In fact, keep the
descriptions to only the essentials, deleting as many adjectives and adverbs as possible.
Verbs: present tense, active and descriptive. As Professor Keating in DEAD POETS SOCIETY says, “He’s not very sad—he’s morose.” Use a
thesaurus if necessary and describe how the character walks: she waltzes, lumbers, marches, skips, etc.
Dialogue: Listen and learn how people speak. Eavesdrop when necessary, or simply key in to a conversation among your friends and
family. Often we use verbal shortcuts with those we know and converse with frequently. Some things to keep I mind: drop the little
words like hey, look, say—instead simply jump into what the character says. Don’t write out “AAAAAAHHHHHHH!” for a scream; simply
write Alice SCREAMS in the action paragraph.
Characters: Remember to let your characters take you through their journey. Rather than dropping in an obstacle or a solution like a
Greek Script Writing God (or Goddess), let your characters bumble along in the reality that you and they have created together.
Step Eight: Learn More Craft
In your pursuit for script writing knowledge purchase (or borrow) helpful books and/or take workshops or courses. Two books I require
my Introductory to Scriptwriting students to purchase are: Elements of Style for Screenwriters by Paul Argentini and the Writers Guild,
East, booklet: Professional Writer’s Teleplay/Screenplay Formats written by Jerome Coopersmith. Keep in mind that these books will help
you with formatting, not with storytelling.
Taking a workshop or course is an excellent way to learn the craft and to get your questions answered. I teach a one day a week class
at the commuter campus of the University of New Hampshire in Manchester where I have taught both degree students and students who are
auditing my class simply to learn the craft. I also have led introductory scriptwriting workshops at Film Festivals, a writers’
conference, and at a private high school.
When I began I studied the craft via online courses taught as a spin-off of the MFA in Screenwriting program at UCLA, which made it
possible for me—a fulltime mother—to study the craft at all. You can look into programs at your local colleges or universities,
writers groups, film festivals (check with your state’s film office if you’re not sure when and where local film festivals take place),
or go surfing for online opportunities to study the craft.
Step Nine: Assess Your Strengths & Weaknesses as a Writer
It’s difficult, but we have to admit our weaknesses in order to concentrate upon them and work to improve them. I know my greatest
weakness is storytelling—solid, basic, down to the nitty gritty storytelling technique. So I study good storytelling structure every
chance I get. And I try to let my characters guide me on their journeys while I write.
I also know that one of my greatest strengths is dialogue. So I play to that. And I continually study it, too, for while I want to
improve my storytelling skills, I also want to continue to grow my dialogue abilities, as well as the other skills that it takes to be
a good scriptwriter.
Step Ten: Read Scripts & Watch Movies
Yes, I’ve listed this again, for to be a scriptwriter, you need to be a continuous student of your craft. Just this morning I surfed
over to the script-o-rama website and read FARGO, a script that I’ve been meaning to read for quite a while. I couldn’t get through
the movie, the main character annoyed me too much. Yet, the unresolved conflict and unanswered questions made me search out the script
and read all the way to FADE OUT just to learn what became of him. I’m glad I did. The pay-off was worth it. Even if he still drove
me nuts.
Step Eleven: Write Scripts
At UCLA we were taught that it takes at least five scripts before you hit your stride. Whether it takes you one or seven before you
feel comfortable in your craft, my advice is to keep writing and enjoy the process.
Step Twelve: Rewrite
Any writer knows that writing is rewriting, and screenplays are no exception. Jack B. Sowards is known in the industry as a writer who
pens a first draft, throws it away and starts draft two from scratch because that is when he feels he finally truly knows his characters
enough to let them tell their own stories. While I don’t adhere to that method every time I dive into a revision, I have found it
cathartic and effective on at least a couple of occasions. A script that floundered and meandered effortlessly became a story about a
character with focus and drive in the written from scratch method. The resulting script even won me my first award.
Step Thirteen: Host a Reading
Want to hear your characters come alive? Host a reading! It can be a formal Staged Reading event involving a casting director and real
actors, sure, but it can also be a fun time to share your craft with family and friends. I have hosted a Mommy’s Breakfast reading of
one of my family features in which we met at my house after dropping our children off at school; we read the script, laughed, and enjoyed
a brunch I had prepared ahead of time.
When some of the attorneys in my husband’s law firm wondered what I did, I hosted a reading of my pirate script—complete with pizza,
Pirate Booty, plus my very best imitation grog. There was something irresistible and engaging hearing grown men and women in the legal
community growl and exclaim in their very best pirate voices!
In addition to hearing your characters breathe some life during a reading, you’ll have an opportunity to hear what works well, what
flops, and you’ll likely receive great feedback that will help in the script revision process.
Step Fourteen: Get Some Feedback
Whether it’s your mom, your good friend, or another writer—show the script to someone else and get feedback on it. You might not agree
with every suggestion, but at least you’ll have the benefit of getting some comments. You’ll quickly discover who you trust with your
work and who gives the most helpful feedback, which will come in handy when the next script is completed. In turn, you can offer to
read another writer’s work, which will help you grow your own understanding of the scriptwriting process.
Step Fifteen: Enter Contests
Competitions are a great way to gain exposure for you and your script. However, you’ll need to be choosy since there are hundreds to
pick from, nearly all of them with an entry fee. I advise my students to surf to the
New York Screenwriter magazine website and click on Contests. There the
magazine lists only the screenplay contests that meet their rigorous guidelines, such as reasonable entry fees and significant rewards.
It’s a good start and will help you evaluate whether a screenplay competition that does not make their list may still be a good choice
for you to enter. I took that chance with a small regional script competition, won first place, and had my first short script produced.
Step Sixteen: Schmooze
In any business there is a “who you know” factor, and the film world is certainly no exception. Attend film festivals, independent
screenings in your area, filmmaker discussion groups, whatever you can fit into your lifestyle—even if it means simply beginning with
online film communities. Eventually you will meet the people who can help turn your script into a production; you’ll also make some
great friends while learning about the other parts of the film business along the way.
Step Seventeen: Have Fun
Yes, this is an all encompassing, conclusive sort of step. But if it’s not fun, why do it? Especially since part of that fun means
that you need to continue to write, rewrite, read, and view. What could be more fun then studying movies and the words that inspire
them? Good luck!
About The Author:
Award Winning Screenwriter Dana Biscotti Myskowski teaches scriptwriting as an adjunct professor at the
University of New Hampshire-Manchester,
and writes and consults from her cozy basement office. She can be found at: Green Chair Pictures.
* This article is available for your publication, for a F-E-E.
This article may NOT be reprinted without monetary compensation and written permission from the author.
For reprint rights or comments/questions about this article, please contact the author.
|
