Hollywonk

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

 “Rosebud!” The famous, first murmured word from Orson Welles’ 1941 cinematic masterpiece Citizen Kane, is a plant, only to be paid off at the end of the film when it is revealed to the audience that the enigmatic “Rosebud” was the name of Mr. Kane’s childhood sled.

Or take Chinatown, in the climatic reversal scene in the third act where Gittes has come to Mrs. Mulwray’s home with evidence — her late husband Hollis Mulwray’s glasses and an earlier plant — that Gittes believes proves Evelyn’s guilt in the murder. But after discovering Katherine is both Evelyn’s sister and daughter and deciding now to help Evelyn evade the police, Evelyn pays off the glasses when she explains that “Those didn’t belong to Hollis” because “He didn’t wear bifocals.”

The above examples are classic, but every film incorporates planting and payoff: a device by which a motif, a line of dialogue, a gesture, behavioral mannerism, costume, prop or any combination of these is introduced into a story and then often repeated as the story progresses, until in the changed circumstances toward the resolution, the planted information assumes a new meaning and literally “pays off”.

But not every plant and payoff is required to carry as much emotional weight as “Rosebud” or Hollis’s glasses. Some plants and payoffs are simple, and only reveal a character trait, often being wrapped up within a single scene or within the same sequence. Other plants and payoffs are paramount to moving the story forward. But all plants and payoffs - if done properly - do involve the audience, connecting with them and making them active participants and not just passive observers. Let the audience add it up, and they’ll love you for it.

Planting and Payoff: A Case Study - Sweet Smell of Success (1957)

To illustrate, let’s take a look at the film-noir drama Sweet Smell of Success, written by Ernest Lehman (from his novella) and Clifford Odets. Below are two examples to get you started, but the best education is to watch the film — or any film — with pen and paper in hand, looking specifically for the execution of planting and payoff.

Example One:

• A. The Plant: In the first sequence of Act One, Sydney Falco (Tony Curtis) is about to leave his office when his secretary says, “Take your topcoat.”  Sydney replies, “And leave a tip in every hat check room in town.”
• B. The Payoff: Later in sequence two, Sydney and J.J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) exit the restaurant.  J.J. gets his coat from the checkroom and gives a tip.  Sydney tries to walk out without J.J. noticing that he doesn’t have a coat.  J.J. recognizes this and makes a snide comment about Sydney trying to save tips again.
• Note: This is an example of an economical plant completed before the end of Act One. It has no bearing upon the story — clearly does not move it forward — however, it does reveal an element of Sydney’s character as it’s clear this is something Sydney has done multiple times before.

Example Two:

• A. The Plant: In Act Two, right after the midpoint, Sydney sneaks his way into viewing the proofs of J.J.’s column in advance for that afternoon’s paper. There’s a plug for a “funny man” comic, Herbie Temple, performing at the Palace Theatre.
• B. The Payoff #1/The New Plant: Seeing an opportunity to make a “fast buck”, Sidney immediately heads over to the Palace Theatre and introduces himself to Herbie Temple, where he makes a fake phone call to J.J., pretending to tell J.J. what to write about Herby Temple, but he’s only repeating what was the already written (just not published), and since he’s purposefully within ear shot of Herbie, Sydney hopes that when Herbie reads the column later that day, he will be impressed with the power of that phone call and want to hire Sydney to be his future press agent.
• C.  The Payoff #2: Later in Act Three, however, Sydney is celebrating at the bar “toasting his favorite new perfume.  Success!” when Herbie Temple walks in and acknowledges himself from the article. Herbie tells Sydney that he has talked it over with his manager, and they decided to go with Sydney.  But Sydney — now flying high with his new future column deal with J.J. — thinks of himself as too big to even consider the account and condescendingly blows the old comic off.
• Note: Here is an excellent example of a three-part plant/payoff turned plant/payoff. A is the plant to the payoff in B, and B then becomes the plant for the payoff in C.

Incorporating planting and payoff is a key ingredient to a good script: future & advertising, mystery & suspense, delay & revelation, and preparation & aftermath are all tricks of the trade that use planting and payoff to help create a strong audience connection. And the audience is everything. It’s why you write the script in the first place, and as the screenwriter, it’s your job to make sure you do whatever possible to help the audience become invested in the story by making them feel smart, anticipating, reaching conclusions, and adding it up.

When planting and payoff is used correctly, the audience doesn’t even realize that they are working it out, but they are. No longer are they passive passengers. When you allow your audience to add up two plus two, they will love you for it - because you create a situation for them to become connected and intimately involved.

            See more from The Script Lab.

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

I have an uncle in his late 50s. A Jeremiah Johnson look-a-like, he’s an unemployed concrete worker who has been living in a motel room for two decades, currently on state aid. He lives off Big Macs, cigarettes, and beer. He’s had a cocaine overdose, a handful of heart attacks, and he hasn’t spoken to his son in thirty years. He’s a character for sure, with plenty of stories: like when he did time in a Texas penitentiary for stealing a cab with a butter knife (while intoxicated); like when he came to his own mother’s funeral in ripped jeans holding an Igloo cooler of Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer; like when he and I skidded off a Wisconsin country road and into a ditch in the middle of a winter blizzard, and he could only be bothered to open up a porn mag and wait for a rescue. My uncle is a tragedy through and through, but he’s also funny, and kind, and good with his hands. And despite all his flaws, he’s likable. And… a perfect character for a comedy.

And then there’s my other uncle, a little younger (early 50s), paranoid, and one hundred pounds overweight. He’s not a drunk or a drug addict. He doesn’t smoke. Nor does he have any children to neglect. Sure, it’s sad that he‘s impeded by the unwavering belief that his martini-drinking-grease-monkey-football-fever-veteran-dad never truly loved him after he “came out” to San Francisco to experience the swinging lifestyle of The Castro in the 1970’s. But there’s so much more to his story. He’s also a hoarder of yard sale “good deals,” a fashion casualty with a proclivity for Hawaiian shirts, and an expert of financial ruin, always putting the ten-dollar cappuccino before covering the rent. But at least he had a dream: to be an opera singer. And even though he never came close to performing at the Met, he does grace the stage, singing every Sunday for the congregation of his sparsely filled church. Tragic? Maybe. Funny. Absolutely.

Alcoholism, drug addiction, abandonment, homophobia, mania, and rejection certainly are heavy subjects. And sure, each of my uncles could be a great character plugged into a serious drama rife with tragedy, a film that could be thought provoking and even life changing. However, not every story needs to be serious. Sometimes we just want to laugh.

But if you want to write good comedy, how you execute the laughs is key. So many writers try to be funny by creating “funny” characters. Unless the tone is supposed to be rooted with two-dimensional fluff, this is a BIG MISTAKE. Because a “funny” character, whose sole purpose is to force-feed the funny — jokes, one-liners, slap-stick gags, etc. — is often, in the end, simply not funny at all. And this occurs because when the character doesn’t feel real, we don’t buy the situation, and therefore just don’t give a damn.

You see, bad comedy is like telling a “funny” joke: “Two guys walk into a bar… blah, blah, blah.” Now, be completely honest: when someone tells a joke like that, you may crack a smile or laugh even, but was it genuine? Was it really funny? Or did you just force a chuckle to appease the joke teller? Most of us, I think, would agree with the latter.

Conversely, however, the best comedy almost always comes in the form of a story, like for instance, when my wife and I had to dumpster dive for bottles and cans and take them to a recycling center in order to earn $8.25 and make a bank deposit before noon on a Saturday so that we could cover our mortgage. Phew! We were clearly dealing with tragedy: financial turmoil. A situation that a lot of America could relate to during the dog days of the mortgage crises. What’s funny about the very real possibility of going delinquent on our mortgage and facing foreclosure? We landed in the trash can (literally!), yet we were laughing. But not because we were fabricated “funny” characters. Quite the opposite. We were real people, just in a funny situation. And the best situations for comedy are always the ones rooted in real tragedy, even if it’s only one dumpster at a time.

Don’t believe me? Then maybe Michael Arndt’s Academy Award-winning Best Original Screenplay Little Miss Sunshine can help put things into perspective.

Little Miss Sunshine isn’t funny because it is full of funny characters. Ardnt didn’t toss characters in a room and force them to make us laugh. The entire family, in fact, is a tragic mess: Grandpa is a foul-mouthed horny heroin addict, Frank is a gay academic with an inferiority complex and a suicide attempt survivor, Dwayne is an apathetic teen trying to evade his family through a Nietzschean vow of silence, Richard is a self-involved father pushing his quixotic nine step system on “How to be a Winner” onto everybody, and Sheryl is a pissed-off enabling wife a breath away from filing divorce papers. The only seemingly “normal” one of the bunch is Olive, the seven-year-old daughter who dreams of someday transforming herself into a child-sized Aphrodite and winning the Little Miss Sunshine Beauty Pageant. And that’s supposed to be normal?

Addiction. Suicide. Denial. Selfishness. Divorce. Idolization. These subjects don’t necessarily seem like ideal themes to explore in a comedy. However, the best comedies really come from tragedies. But the funny stuff in Little Miss Sunshine is never “funny” characters trying to be funny. What’s funny is the action of the situation: a dysfunctional family takes a cross-country trip in their VW bus to get their seven-year-old daughter to the finals of a beauty pageant.

It’s important to remember, however, that comedy comes from tragedy not because we’re laughing at someone’s misfortune. Instead, we laugh at the ways that someone attempts to handle that misfortune. Action reveals character. Therefore, it’s never necessarily what a character says that should make us laugh; it’s what a believable character does in a funny situation that brings home the comedy.

            See more from The Script Lab.

Ivan Reitman has made a lot of terrific movies: Meatballs, Stripes, Kindergarten Cop, No Strings Attached. But there’s one that’s special. One that’s helped define what a blockbuster comedy is, and brought joy to millions. That movie is Ghostbusters.

“I like to think it did something that hasn’t been seen before – that combination of humor with a fairly original story, original characters, a mix of genres,” said Reitman, who recently judged the Amazon Studios Best Comedy Script contest. “It’s kind of a scary film and kind of a funny film. And a film of a scale that had not been attempted before that I can think of, and it really set this whole new genre.”

There are lessons in Ghostbusters for every screenwriter, and the most important one is: Don’t try to make another Ghostbusters. For one, Reitman himself is on the case (more on Ghostbusters 3 in a bit). But more importantly, the thing Reitman most wants screenwriters to be is authentic. Don’t try to make the movie or write the script that you think someone wants you to write. More specifically, he added: “Think about: What part of my own experience is unique to me? What do I have genuine and original insight into what is my own experience that I can ascribe and impart in my own way that has not been seen before?”

Some might say that with a cast that included Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis, Ernie Hudson, Sigourney Weaver, Rick Moranis and Annie Potts, it would be hard to go wrong. And Reitman wouldn’t disagree. “Sometimes an inspirational performance can take a script out of failure,” he said.  “But it’s very hard to make a bad script a lot better. I’d much rather start with a better script.” He had it with the first Ghostbusters. And the second? “There’s lots of funny stuff in the second Ghostbusters, but we didn’t quite get the story right, particularly the threat,” he said. “The actors were interesting, but I thought the plot was less than stellar in comparison to the first one, so there was a certain level of disappointment. Though taken on its own, it was a good movie.”

Ghostbusters 2 came out in 1989, five years after the original. And Ghostbusters 3? Coming next year, reportedly. “I think it’s going to happen,” Reitman said. “We really all want it to happen. Though I’m not sure about Bill. I think he’s gone to a place in his performance career that it’s not as important to him as it may be with others.”

Reitman won’t discuss the specifics of the plot, but he will acknowledge the pressure. “It’s an interesting pressure. People do sequels all the time now, and there doesn’t seem to be quite as much pressure on those screenplays as there is for a Ghostbusters movie. There’s such a love for the original film that it has placed almost a unique weight on it.” Fortunately, he said, they have a “very good” screenplay ready (by Gene Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg, who wrote Bad Teacher).

Speaking of pressure, Reitman is confident that Ashton Kutcher, his leading man in No Strings Attached, can handle what awaits when he leads one of TV’s hottest comedies, Two and a Half Men, into its post-Charlie Sheen era this fall. “Ashton is undervalued as an actor,” Reitman said. “He’s thought of as a good looking boy … but he’s a really good, subtle actor.” And funny.

And Reitman would know.

             – Stephanie Reid-Simons

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

            When it comes to the beginning of your screenplay, I’m a firm believer in letting the ending dictate the correct beginning.  If you know your character dies in the end, it makes sense to use that profound piece of knowledge to structure a suitable journey (both for your protagonist and your audience) to that tragic end.

            To think of writing a story as a discovery to the unknown is for the novelist, a quality that sets the novel apart as a different form of artistic achievement, but when it comes to screenplay structure, the screenwriter has little business sitting at that table of the unknown.

            The reality is that the screenwriter faces a lot of limitations. Only has so much time. Only so many pages. Can only write what we can see. And the audience expects a lot – and at very specific plot points, whether they realize it or not. And it’s true that knowing your ending is a key component to deciding on how to start your screenplay, but the first few pages of your script carry more weight than most of us can possibly imagine.

            Screenplays have to be read by somebody, and in most cases the reader, whether they’re professional or not (and there are professional readers, and assistants, and secretaries, and interns, and friends of friends of friends), knows whether the screenplay is of any worth within those first pages. Sure, you have approximately 24 to 30 script pages (depending on the genre) to lock your protagonist in, propelling him or her or them into the second act tension, but a legitimate studio reader, one that holds the lifeline of your screenplay with a simple pass or recommend, is looking for a lot in those early pages.

            At the beginning of a screenplay, you’ve only got about 10 pages to accomplish these five major rules:

1. Establish the tone and genre (is this a comedy, fantasy, spoof, etc.)
2. Introduce your main character: interesting, flawed, and if not likeable, at least empathetic… somebody we can hope and fear for.
3. Clarify the world of the story and the status quo.
4. Indicate the theme or message (Good vs. Evil, Man vs. Nature, etc.)
5. Set up the dramatic situation – that is, what the story is going to be about.

            So don’t waste time. Never wander. Maximize script economy and get into your story quick – at the last possible moment – so you can move the story forward immediately, while always staying creative with character, world, and situation.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

Contrary to popular belief, great screenplays aren’t born of a single burst of inspiration. They’re painstakingly built draft by draft by… draft.

Aspiring screenwriters are wooed by tales of Billy Wilder and I. A. Diamond writing Some Like It Hot in 12 days or better yet, Paul Schrader cranking out Taxi Driver in a hotel room over a weekend. These feats remain remarkable, not just because of the classic films these scripts became, but because they almost never happen. Tales of such instant success perpetuate some harmful myths about the craft of screenwriting. Let’s take a look at three of these myths.

MYTH #1: If rewrites are needed, the script must be lousy.

When a studio buys a script, they also provide the writer with notes to improve the current draft, or to at least bring it closer to the studio’s take. These notes can be wide-ranging and can have a substantial impact on the script, leaving the writer with the impression the studio doesn’t like his or her work. Notes might suggest that the hero needs to have a different job, be more “active”, or make a different decision at the midpoint of the movie, which of course changes the rest of the story. Maybe certain characters need to be cut; the climax doesn’t have sufficient stakes; perhaps the love interest should be someone else. But the fact that these notes are given doesn’t mean that the idea, or the writer, don’t have merit. Instead, they serve to guide the writer to make the most of what’s already on the page. Every screenplay, even during production, is a work in progress, and these changes are part of the script’s natural evolution. Having to write another draft doesn’t mean the writing failed, it just means the journey from script to screen needs another step. Professional screenwriters often view finishing the first draft like a potter putting the clay on the wheel. The work’s begun, but there’s much left to do. Everybody in Hollywood dreams of a perfect first draft. Nobody in Hollywood expects one. 

MYTH #2: Professional writers are so good they don’t have to rewrite.

Director Ivan Reitman (Ghostbusters, No Strings Attached) recently told Amazon Studios that all of the films he’s made went through at least 20 drafts before going into production. That’s not a typo. That’s 2-0, twenty. Professional screenwriters expect to perform multiple rewrites, addressing notes from studios, directors and stars. In fact, often times other professional writers will be brought onto a project to rewrite the first writer’s script, just to get an additional take on the story. Rewriting is a very real part of a professional writer’s life, no matter the number of Oscars or hit movies on their resumes.

MYTH #3: Rewriting is “tweaking.”

This is the most heartbreaking myth of all. When Steven Zaillian (American Gangster, Schindler’s List) or David Koepp (Jurassic Park, Spider-Man) refer to doing a new “draft” they aren’t talking about moving a few scenes, polishing a few lines of dialogue and weeding out typos. No, each draft is a substantially NEW SCRIPT. Each draft involves new sequences, characters, back stories, endings, and in some cases, even a different lead. New screenwriters often think that adding a line here and an extra scene there will address a note about a character’s motivation or the rules of a given supernatural world. The reason these small fixes don’t work in most cases is that story issues are best addressed not through explanation, but through action. A monologue about how the killer was once abused as a child might explain his behavior, but it doesn’t dramatize it, and drama is what makes great comedies, thrillers and sci-fi epics. The other problem with small fixes is that one small change can create all kinds of inconsistencies in scenes and characters before and after that “explanation.” So what constitutes a rewrite? It often requires revising the “architecture” of the entire story. That means going back to an outline or treatment and rebuilding the story, scene by scene, as if the script was being written for the first time. Not every draft involves starting with a blank page, but many do.

Sounds like work, doesn’t it? Rest assured, it is. Rewriting courts frustration, boredom and despair, and in most cases, all three. It’s why there are so many screenplays and so few professional screenwriters. The pros understand that the first few drafts are just the start of a long journey, but that journey might just end with a classic flick.

             – The Amazon Studios Story Department

P.S. Here are some great books on rewriting, available at Amazon.com:

• Rewrite: A Step-by-Step Guide to Strengthen Structure, Characters, and Drama in your Screenplay by Paul Chitlik
• Your Screenplay Sucks!: 100 Ways to Make It Great by William M. Akers

It’s a classic tale of comedy success:  A couple of environmental engineers based in Clovis, Calif. — the humor capital of Fresno County — buy screenwriting books and turn some real-life road trip inspiration into Amazon Studios’ first-ever Best Comedy Script: Road Trip Sex Party.

“I work a desk job five days a week, and I’m required to be professional,” said Jerry Sandhu, who wrote the script with his friend and colleague Errol Villegas. “Writing is an escape.  The only limitations are those in my imagination.  Writing allows me to put down all my zany thoughts and ideas on paper; something I could never do while at work.”

Sandhu said he’d always thought about writing a screenplay. That’s why he joined Amazon Studios last Nov. 16, the day it launched. “I purchased ‘how to’ books from Amazon before, but for various reasons I just never got to it. I think what motivated me was the semifinalist nomination of (and eventual win for) America’s Ben Franklin in The Electrocution String.  I thought it was hilarious, and when it got recognized, it encouraged me.”

It encouraged Villegas as well. “What I wanted to write about was things that interested me, or I could relate to.  Guys doing stupid things, having fun, and getting into trouble.  Thus, Road Trip Sex Party,” he said.

Sandhu and Villegas started throwing ideas out in March, then started writing on weekends in April. “We tried to get it finished by the end of April, but without any prior writing experience, we realized we were in over our heads,” Sandhu said. “When we found out Amazon Studios was having a comedy-specific contest for May [featuring guest judge Ivan Reitman], we decided to focus and spent A LOT of time writing during May.  So it took about two months, plus one month of just planning out the story.”  

The story was inspired, at least in part, by a trip Sandhu took to Houston to attend the NCAA men’s basketball Final Four.  “I was going to Texas by plane, but my friends and I were just coming up with all kinds of ridiculous things that could happen during a possible road trip. From there, I felt that mainstream American needed to be introduced to topics such as hobo sex, foreskin, and wheelbarrows,” Sandhu said. “There are several secondary scenes that come from real life as well. There’s an early scene in SBSP where the protagonist gets marble-mouthed around the girl he likes. That’s pretty much my life story.”

And now that story will include more screenwriting. “Thanks to the reception RTSP has received from Amazon Studios, we’re already in the process of writing our next script, with more to follow.  We also have an idea for a horror movie that will knock your socks off!”

            – Studios Steph

Explosions. Breaking glass. Screeching tires (or people). You probably don’t want to hear these noises in real life, but boy, do they make movies more exciting. And now Amazon Studios is providing these and hundreds of other free sound effects to filmmakers creating test movies for the site. Test movies are visual rough drafts: storyboards, live action, whatever works best. And we’ve got more than 5,000 scripts at Amazon Studios that you can use as your shooting script. Learn more about test movies here.

Getting the sounds you need is simple. Go to our Sound Effects Library. Then click the download button. You can download as many effects as you want. The format is MP3 and they’re delivered via Zip file. We’ve also got a Music Library with 2,000 tracks – also available free for use in test movies.

Some important things to remember about the Amazon Studios sound and music libraries: The tracks are available only to registered Amazon Studios users. And you can use these effects without a fee in any test movie uploaded to Amazon Studios, but you’re not allowed to use them in any other work or to upload a test movie containing these sounds to any other site.

            – Studios Steph

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

Anyone can write what we call dialogue, but writing good dialogue is no easy task. It takes time and practice to develop a quality ear.

Why? Because we live in the real world, with real people. But our real talk, our real conversation, is not film dialogue, not screenplay conversation… and never will be.

Film dialogue lives and breathes from the mouths of movie characters. And we certainly don’t live in the movies. We don’t have our words written and rewritten and molded perfectly for our audience in the most economical way – 1 to 2 minutes (1 to 2 script pages) for a husband/wife fight over infidelity, bankruptcy, or forgetting to DVR a favorite show. Can you imagine wrapping any of those fights up in a tight 1-minute scene in real life?

In a screenplay, dialogue is conversation, but conversation in everyday life is definitely not dialogue. Real talk is boring. If you read a transcription of a real conversation - even if the subject matter is controversial and full of passionate opinions - it’s completely absurd. This real talk is disjointed, long-winded, unfocused, and often just too much information. 

As an example, here’s a conversation between my wife and I when she came home from work:

Dialogue in Real Talk:

She enters.

Me: Hey.

My Wife: Hi.

My Wife: Any mail.

Me: Bills.

We continue the conversation down the hall.

My Wife: The kids?

Me: Asleep.

She enters the bedroom, kicks off her shoes.

My Wife: Did you record Ghost Whisperer?

Me: Yeah.

My Wife: Cool.

She heads to the kitchen. I follow.

Me: Can I say something?

My Wife: Yeah. What’s up?

She opens the fridge. Takes out container of lemonade.

Me: It’s nine o’clock.

My Wife: Okay?

Me: I understand that sometimes you have to work late, and I totally get that. But I would appreciate it if you called.

She pours a glass.

My Wife: I know. We were busy. I lost track of time.

Me: Okay. But if you were me, how would you feel if I left for work and I didn’t call and didn’t come home until nine?

She smiles with understanding.

My Wife: You’re right. I’m sorry.

If you look at the conversation, you notice – well, that even though there was a problem (coming home late and not calling) there was no real conflict. No drama. I say hello. She kicks off her shoes. I express my position. She apologizes. Period. That’s a slice of real life. That’s a real conversation. And it’s dull.

Alfred Hitchcock put is this way when explaining a good story was “life, with the dull parts taken out.” Dialogue is no different. 

But what if we took Hitchcock’s advice and take the dull parts out while tossing in a heavy dose of subtext to create conflict.

Dialogue in Screenplay Conversation (Same Scene):

In the bedroom.

Wife: Did you record Ghost Whisperer?

Husband: (snide) Oops.

She squints with irritation and heads to the kitchen.

Husband: Can I say something?

Wife: You always do.

She pours a drink. Chugs it.

Husband: (condescending) It’s nine o’clock.

Wife: (annoyed) Okay?

Husband: Just because you had a bad day, don’t take it out on me?

Wife: Are you drunk?

Husband: Are you? 

She pours another glass

Wife: (seething) We were busy.

Husband: You coulda called. How would you feel?

She squints with irritation.

Wife: I wouldn’t.

Okay. Now we have conflict. Drama. Opposition. Subtext. And all with less words. We start the scene later. We deliver less dialogue, and so much more is going on beneath the surface. But it’s not reality. It’s dialogue through screenplay conversation.

And this is why writing good dialogue is so damn important. It’s not real. But it needs to read and sound as if it was part of a real conversation in the very real world.

So in writing dialogue, it’s never about capturing truth or reality: how we really talk. Realistic dialogue only gives a flavor of reality. It is artful deception. That isn’t to say that the screenwriter doesn’t write dialogue that reads like real speech. Not at all. It must feel and sound believable; the irony is just that believable dialogue doesn’t exist in real talk.

Good screenplay dialogue has a rhythm, and therefore is easily spoken. It’s compressed and moves rapidly, like a ball in a ping-pong match. The verbal exchanges move back and forth between characters, shifting power from one side to the other, until somebody scores the point. Screenplay dialogue must be full of conflict, lots of it. And rarely do characters say exactly what they mean: dialogue is all about subtext.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

You have this mind-blowing scene to open a screenplay. But that’s it. Characters? Predicament? Obstacles? Nada. And the ending? No clue. And just because you’re in love with this super cool opening scene (and it very well may be amazing) is never enough to justify starting that first page.

So how then do you begin, especially since there are so many different ways to do it, and each one can lead you down dozens of different roads? Answer: KNOW YOUR ENDING. Let the ending dictate the correct beginning.

If you know that your hero finds the treasure, beats the bad guy, and gets the girl in the end, it makes sense for him to have none of that in the beginning. He should be down on his luck, alone, and beaten. This creates a great character arc and provides the largest, most rewarding journey.

Think of Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark. In the film’s opening sequence, Indy is all alone somewhere deep in a Peruvian jungle, facing imminent death by the hands of a tribe of Hovitos warriors, his traitorous companions have been killed, and the idol, which he risked life to obtain, is taken by his arch rival, Belloq. This is the perfect beginning to Lawrence Kasdan’s screenplay because in the end Indy again faces imminent death – only this time by the hands of the Nazis - but he’s not alone. He has Marion. And Belloq is destroyed. And Indy comes home with his prize: The Ark of the Covenant. 

You may hear a lot of people say, however, that you don’t need to know your ending before you start writing. Some may argue: “My characters will guide me,” or “I’ll discover it as I go.” In a novel or a stage play maybe, but not in a screenplay.

So if the ending is key, what makes a good one? Happy endings are for storybook princesses, not necessarily for a movie. Film endings can be happy but also tragic, bitter sweet, hilarious, etc. Whatever you decide, it’s essential to make sure that the ending is satisfactory and believable.

In the end of Randall Wallace’s 1996 award winning screenplay Braveheart, our hero William Wallace is tortured in London square: hanged, drawn and quartered, emasculated, and disemboweled, only to cry “Freedom!” with his last breath before being beheaded. Clearly, this is not the happiest of endings. But it is satisfactory. If all of his Scottish mates hiding in the crowd came rushing out of the woodwork at the last possible moment to rescue him, battling their way through throngs is English soldiers, the ending would become trite and unbelievable, and more importantly, the theme of freedom and the power of martyrdom would be fleeting.

So before you write one scene heading, one visual description, one line of dialogue, you must know at the very least seven things: the ending (the resolution), the beginning (the set up), and THE FIVE KEY PLOT POINTS (inciting incident, lock-in, first culmination, main culmination, and third act twist), and in that order. Let your ending dictate the correct beginning, and from there, use those five key moments to plot your hero’s journey.

          See more from The Script Lab.

Thanks for your enthusiastic response to Amazon Studios’ plan to offer filmmakers up to $40,000 to create a test movie.  We will be choosing up to two separate projects to fund, based on proposals we receive by Aug. 19, 2011. You can learn more about this opportunity (and test movies) from our previous announcement. But some of you have had follow-up questions, and we’ve got answers.

First, and most important, test movie proposals must include the following information:

•  Your name, address and phone number
•  Your Amazon Studios user ID (include a link to your profile page)
• The location at which you will be making your test movie and with whom you will be working
• What script(s) you’ve chosen to adapt and why (include links)
• Your take on the story (tone, visual style, possible story changes)
• What makes you a credible filmmaker (your resume, links to your work as appropriate)
• Your budget and production plan (a detailed description of how you intend to spend your money and time)

Please submit proposals via email to: testmovieproposal@amazon.com.

Do you have to pick scripts that were already on Amazon Studios when the opportunity was announced, or do you just have to choose a script that’s on the site before the deadline? 

You may choose any script that is on the site by Aug. 19. But remember, semifinalists, finalists and winners are our favorites, so if you choose something else, be sure to provide compelling reasons why.

Is Amazon looking for live action or storyboard/animatic test movies?

We’re open to whatever approach tells the story best. You might want to choose something other than live action for that space comedy adventure featuring a talking dog with tentacles for a tail, but we’re open.

Can a test movie proposal include salary/payment for the producer/director’s time?

Yes. But as with any item in the budget you submit, you should indicate where that money would go, to whom, and for what purpose.

What formats are we going to be allowed to use in our email proposal? Word? Power Point? PDF? etc.

Any of those formats are fine. What’s most important is that you include the information described above. Some proposals we’ve seen in the early going are missing pieces. Please, take some time and make sure you’re covering everything with plenty of detail.

What is the expected production time?

The test movie will need to be complete by Nov. 15.

If Amazon accepts my proposal, will that disqualify me from entering my other test movies and scripts into the Amazon Studios contests?

No. Test movies and scripts that are not funded by Amazon in connection with this opportunity will be considered for all contests for which they are eligible.

Will we require the filmmaker to get a completion bond or have a certain quality of gear?

No. However, it may be helpful for you to describe the gear you plan to use in your proposal.

How should the video proposal be uploaded?

Upload it as a test movie for the project that you’re interested in and make sure you put “Test Movie Proposal” as the version name.

Would a trailer make a good video proposal?

We’re open to different approaches, and a trailer could be one way to show us what you have in mind.

Where can I get more information on the independent contractor agreement?

We expect to contact filmmakers with details about this as part of our selection process.

Can I snail-mail my test movie samples on DVD instead of uploading it?

No, sorry. Please send links (YouTube, Vimeo or some other video site) in your email.

What percentage of the budget will be awarded right away, before production, and what percentage after completion?

That’s something Amazon Studios will decide on an individual basis. Filmmakers may suggest a timeline in their proposals.

Is this a one-time offer?

That depends, at least in part, on the response to this experiment.

If the funded project uses a previously uploaded dialogue track, how much will the producer of the dialogue track get?

Contest-eligible dialogue tracks would continue to compete for awards, but would not be subject to any additional payment related to this opportunity.

Should payments to writers be included in the proposal?

No. Amazon Studios will determine a writer’s consulting fee separately.

We look forward to seeing your proposals!

                  – Studios Steph

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

Exposition is a necessary tool for the screenwriter and often one that is essential to understanding plot, character, world, and/or theme because it provides an explanation of necessary background information to the audience. Every film has it, but not every film does it well.

When the presentation of the information comes out as a forced monologue, it is often referred to as an “info dump” or “idiot lecture.” Good exposition, however, never simply “dumps” information in our lap. The skilled screenwriter delivers it:

1. Through conflict (an argument that starts about one thing escalates when past issues are brought up), or…

2. With humor (a character teasing another will often illustrate by referring to events of the past), or even…

3. During action (a car chase, a shootout, or even just a jog through the park).

But obviously, the root of exposition is a lot of dialogue (talk, talk, talk) that explains something we need to know. The reality, however, is that most real talk doesn’t work this way. We don’t stand up and blah, blah, blah our talking points to shed crystal clear light on an issue or situation.

Real talk is disjointed, redundant, and unfocused. Besides, exposition almost always seems forced, unless that conflict, humor, or action is part of the equation.

There are, however, two more easy tricks of the exposition trade:

4. Create a character who’s occupation (professor, lawyer, judge, scientist) itself requires him or her to explain things, or…

5. Develop that character with a little bit crazy (manic, schizophrenic, paranoid, or just an eccentric conspiracy theorist).

And if you can swing it, find a way to incorporate both.

Exposition Needs an Occupation

One of the easiest ways to have a character deliver believable exposition is by giving that character an occupation: a lawyer, a teacher, a coach, a doctor, a cop, a scientist, etc. If your character is an expert in a particular field or has a niche specialty, and it’s also part of his or her job description to lecture or orate, exposition usually works quite well. Because when there comes a time to explain, your character can easily put on the professional hat and tell us exactly what we need to know.

However, what often happens is that these characters become stock or stereotype roles: “Oh, here comes the guy in the lab coat. Pay attention. Prepare for an information dump.” So even though applying the right occupation can help, the best exposition execution still comes down to creating a truly original, interesting, and flawed character.

A Little Crazy Goes a Long Way

And why is your character interesting? If it’s just because he or she is wearing a lab coat or a uniform, you better take a deeper look and try again. But if your character is a little bit crazy, a schizophrenic scientist or a psychotic lawman, now you have something that’s memorable.

Truth really is stranger than fiction, and we tend to believe the interesting crazy person more than just a guy wearing a lab coat. There’s a big difference between the memorable and eccentric Dr. Emmett Brown (Christopher Lloyd) explaining how the DeLorean time machine works in Back to the Future vs. the forgettable cookie-cutter science guy that tells us the world is going to end because of blah, blah, blah.

I say choose the unstable, unpredictable, nervous, paranoid, and a little bit crazy character every time.

Back to the Future (1985): A Case Study

The Scene: Dr. Emmett Brown (Christopher Lloyd) reveals the DeLorean time machine to Marty (Michael J. Fox) in the parking lot of the Twin Pines Mall.

The Exposition: We learn that Doc is about to “embark on a history journey” by traveling in time with his Delorean time machine, how the time machine works, that plutonium is necessary for time travel, and that Libyan terrorists are out to kill Doc.

The Summary: Even though the concept of a scientist delivering information is not innovative within film, this scene goes beyond “just working” and stands as an excellent example of creative exposition for two main reasons.

First, while the concept of a scientist may not be an original solution to deliver large amounts of information, the character of Doc Brown is entirely unique. Everything about Doc is unconventional and unexpected — from his mannerisms to his hair. And this crazy mad-scientist eccentricity makes his explanation of the time machine interesting, engaging, and easily believable.

Second, the intense action surrounding the scene makes it exciting and dangerous. Doc knows that Libyan terrorists are after him while he is intensely explaining the machine to Marty. He is constantly moving, pushing buttons, and setting dates until… machine gun wielding Libyans arrive on the scene, killing Doc and leaving Marty only one means of escape – the DeLorean time-machine.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

Amazon Studios $100,000 award winner Matt Wilson (The Umpire) thinks every screenwriter should make a test movie. That’s partly because the process of creating a visual rough draft will help make a story better and more authentic: “As we were shooting I started to get the sense that the script had become too much about me trying to write a standard studio comedy and not enough about me telling a story I actually believed in,” he said. “So in the middle of production (and editing) I went back and rewrote the ending and a lot of moments leading up to it.”

But more than that, creating a test movie for Amazon Studios puts a story out there for the world to enjoy, in a format that an audience is more likely to engage with. Have you ever tried to get people to read a script? What about hundreds of people, or thousands? “I could NEVER get 421 people to read a script!” Wilson said, shortly after learning that The Umpire won the Best Test Movie Award for May. And since then, another 1,000-plus people have watched the story inspired by his grandmother’s love of baseball and laughter. Screenplays “are meant to be experienced visually,” Wilson said. “With a test movie, you’re far closer to the actual movie experience.”

Yes, test movies are not perfect, but “no one goes to a play at a community theater and walks out because the backdrops and props aren’t good enough,” Wilson said. “Everyone understands that these folks are making the best with what they have, and if the performances are good you can get into the story and enjoy the ride.” So a ballfield at the park down the street substitutes for a major-league stadium. Talented friends from church become the cast. Three months of working around day jobs and “regular lives,” and The Umpire can be seen as well as read.  

Grandma would be proud.

            – Studios Steph  

P.S. Matt will be at Comic-Con to promote his graphic novel, Scrooge and Santa. Stop by and say hello!

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

         There are a plethora of movie character names that become everlasting brands in American culture: Rocky, Yoda, Forrest Gump, and Shrek to name a few. And when it comes to naming characters, you want to choose wisely, which is no easy task.

         Literature: Lennie Small: the mentally disabled but physically strong protagonist in John Steinbeck’s 1937 novella Of Mice and Men.

         Drama: Willy Loman: the elderly salesman lost in false hopes and illusions in Arthur Miller’s 1949 play Death of a Salesman.

         Film: “The Dude”: the unemployed L.A. slacker and avid bowler in Joel and Ethan Coen’s 1998 film The Big Lebowski.

         Steinbeck’s Lennie is a gentle giant who is “Small” of mind, with a simple dream of tending rabbits. Miller’s “Loman” sounds no different than “Low man”, which is exactly what Willy is – “a dime a dozen” and “not a leader of men”. And the Coen Brothers’ “The Dude” is, as The Stranger explains, “The man for his time and place.”

         Choosing the right name for a character is key. It should be unique and memorable to the story, yet not trying too hard to stand out. Each character name you choose should also reveal something about that character: who he is, where she come from, when he was born, how she was affected, why he likes or dislikes it.

         There’s a lot in a name, and the perfect name can make a world of difference, so here are some helpful tips – the Top Ten Do’s and Don’ts – in naming characters.

THE DO’S: CHOOSE NAMES …

Tip 1: That Reflect Personality

         Choose names that help to illustrate a character’s personality.  Is your character a hero, and if so, what kind: The Professional (Han Solo – Star Wars), The Warrior (Blade – Blade), or The Fool (Captain Jack Sparrow – Pirates of the Caribbean)? And if she’s your villain, what role does she play: The Seducer (Laure Ash – Femme Fatale), The Destroyer (Maleficent – Sleeping Beauty), or The Psychopath (Jigsaw – Saw series)? Work hard to find a name that reflects the disposition or temperament of the character.

Tip 2: Choose a Name by Meaning

         Selecting a name that reflects or symbolizes a character’s role in the story can add subtext to the character. For example, if a character in your action-adventure screenplay is a wise man, mentor, or guide to your protagonist, you might want to consider naming her Sage. And to add even more meaning to the character, you might consider making her a botanist – sagebrush of course being an aromatic plant used as a culinary herb or burned as an incense. Even if you decide not to name a character by meaning, it is wise to look up the literal meaning of all the names of your characters. Knowledge is power, and you never know when a new nugget of information may inspire you.

Tip 3: Make the Name Age-Appropriate

         Many writers make the mistake of choosing a name they like because it’s popular now, but the name would have rarely been used at or around the time of the character’s birth. You might love the more contemporary girl names such as Madison, Chloe, or Riley, but if your character is an 80-year-old socialite who grew up among the plantations of the South during the Great Depression, you must choose a name that would have been common during the time of her birth: Virginia, Dolores, or Evelyn, for example. If your character was born in the U.S., browse the Social Security Name Popularity List for that year. And be smart to take into account the character’s cultural and ethnic background as well.

Tip 4: That Combine Common & Unusual

         Creating unique and interesting names is one thing, but trying too hard to be memorable or exotic is usually a mistake - unless you’re writing a romance novel (Trent Jasper), soap opera (Logan Hawk), or porno (Seymore Butts). Names like these sound silly, out of place, or just plain forced. A good trick that helps to create a nice balance is to combine common first names with unusual last names (Edward Scissorhands) or unusual first names with common last names (Indiana Jones).

Tip 5: That Fit the World/Period

         If you’re writing a historical period piece that takes place during The Spanish Inquisition of 1478, let research be your guide. Investigate the era to find out what names were common during the time, and if your characters have a specific ethnic background, it’s your duty to find out authentic names from that ethnic group. If, however, your story takes place in a fantasy world or somewhere in the future, you still must create names that are believable for the world of the story. If the world is separate from Earth, avoid names that are too closely associated with Earth. If your story is dominated by war, the names you create should reflect images of “strength”, “survival”, and the “warrior” mentality. On the flip side, however, if your characters live in peace and tranquility, their names should be reflective of their environment.

THE DON’TS: AVOID NAMES…

Tip 6: That Are Too Long

         So you’re writing a new sci-fi/fantasy feature, and you’ve decided on what you think is an absolutely amazing name for your main protagonist: Archimedes. Considering your hero is a mathematician in this futuristic world, you have applied Tip #2 appropriately. Archimedes was a Greek mathematician c. 287-212 BC. However, when you start writing, not only does it become labor intensive to type the ten-letter name so many times, but it also takes up valuable white space. Solution: use short character names. But this doesn’t mean you have to lose the Archimedes name. Maybe his friends call him “Archie” or even better “A”. There is a reason that Indiana Jones is referred to as Indy throughout Lawrence Kasdan’s script. Short and simple.

Tip 7: That Sound the Same

         Have you ever come across that family in which every child’s name starts with the same letter: Jacob, John, Jackie, Jessica, Jeff, Jennifer, and so on. If it’s annoying in real life, imagine the frustration your reader will have when the same naming strategy is applied to a script. It’s distracting and confusing, no matter how distinctly different the character personalities, actions, and reactions are. Another similar pitfall is to use character names that – even if starting with different letters – still sound very much alike, such as Greg and Craig.

Tip 8: That Are Too Weird

         Many writers are so focused on giving a character an unusual or memorable name that the end product becomes something more distracting than complimentary to the character or the world of the story. When a character’s name is too weird, it tends to jolt the reader and pull him or her out of the story. The only exception is in sci-fi/fantasy, in which names like Deckard (Blade Runner), Korben (The Fifth Element), and Riddick (Pitch Black) work flawlessly. But can you imagine Riddick throwing a fastball to Deckard, who throws out Korben trying to steal second?

Tip 9: That Use Cute Spellings

         There are few things more annoying to a reader than cute little “creative” spellings of a common, ordinary name. Trust me, readers do not find it cute to struggle through the traditional spelling of Chris as Khryss or Dewayne as Dee-Way-N. Just write CHRIS and DEWAYNE, and be done with it.

Tip 10: That End with the Letter S

         This may sound like a trivial tip, but sometimes the most banal advice is the most valuable. As the writer, part of your job is to make it as easy on the reader as possible, and if you have character names ending in the letter S, you (as well as your reader) will have a difficult time with the possessive form of that name. Make it simple. No name ending in S = possessive ‘s every time.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

                 

 Amazon Studios is accepting applications now from filmmakers for the opportunity to receive up to $40,000 to create a test movie – an inexpensive, full-length visualization that tells the whole story of a script in a compelling way. We will be choosing up to two separate projects to fund, based on proposals we receive by Aug. 19, 2011.

“We’re always looking for ways to make it easier to create test movies, such as our free music library, and this experiment is another part of that effort,” said Amazon Studios Chief Roy Price.

You can make a test movie proposal for any script on the site – you just need to explain what makes the story worthwhile. Semifinalists, finalists and winners of Amazon Studios script awards are our favorites, so should be considered a good place to start. And you can ask for any amount of money, up to $40,000, but remember – we will need to know exactly what your plans are for using that money to create something great. It isn’t necessarily better to propose a $5,000 test movie rather than a $40,000 version. But whatever your requested budget, it should clearly “add up” as part of a realistic production plan.

These are the details for this opportunity:

•  The application deadline is Aug. 19, 2011.  We will evaluate and notify selected filmmakers by early September. Funded test movies will need to be complete by Nov. 15.
• Our intention is to work out a consulting arrangement with the writer(s) of the scripts on which the test movies that we fund will be based and if we can work out that arrangement, pay the writer 20% of the budget as a consulting fee. Filmmakers do not need to build this in to their proposal. For example, if the budget is $40,000, the consulting fee for the script writer would be $8,000.
• It’s fine to propose a test movie for a project that already has one or more test movies.  We think it can be useful to have more than one visualization of a story.  It’s also all right to propose a test movie that uses dialogue tracks, music and other components from the Amazon Studios site.
• The test movies that we fund in connection with this opportunity will not be eligible for monthly and annual contests.
• For this opportunity, we will accept up to three test movie proposals per person.  However, we will not fund multiple proposals from one filmmaker in connection with this opportunity.
• Proposals must be submitted in writing via email to: testmovieproposal@amazon.com.  
• Applicants are encouraged but not required to create a proposal in video form, which we intend to show to the public and you authorize us to do so.  Just create a video of up to five minutes and use it to show and tell us what you have in mind.
• Selected filmmakers and writers would be engaged as independent contractors and not as employees.  To receive funding, selected filmmakers and writers will be required to enter into an independent contractor agreement with Amazon Studios.
• Proposals will be evaluated by the Amazon Studios development staff for quality, creativity and feasibility.

UPDATE: Check out our Funded Test Movie Q and A. Learn more about test movies here. And see award-winning test movies here.

What does a successful Amazon Studios test movie proposal look like? It would be an email that contains the following:

•  Your name, address and phone number
•  Your Amazon Studios user ID (include a link to your profile page)
• The location at which you will be making your test movie and with whom you will be working
• What script(s) you’ve chosen to adapt and why (include links)
• Your take on the story (tone, visual style, possible story changes)
• What makes you a credible filmmaker (your resume, links to your work as appropriate)
• Your budget and production plan (a detailed description of how you intend to spend your money and time)
  Amazon Studios will identify production milestones and a payment plan for the selected filmmakers on an individual basis.

If you choose to supplement your proposal with a video, it can feature you, a cartoon version of you, other people, words, images, or video clips. When it’s ready, upload it as a test movie for the project that you’re interested in and make sure you put “Test Movie Proposal” as the version name. Remember, the deadline for email and video proposals is Aug. 19. We’re eager to see what you can do.

                  – Studios Steph 

Amazon Studios will be at Comic-Con later this month to talk with filmmakers, screenwriters, animators and artists about ways they can be a part of our online movie development process, win money, and reach a worldwide audience. Got questions about how to get some traction with your blockbuster idea? This is a great opportunity to get answers from Studios brass and award winners. Here’s the official panel description:

Amazon Studios: Opportunities for Filmmakers and Screenwriters – Amazon Studios offers monthly and annual awards totaling more than $2.5 million to filmmakers and writers, and is seeking top projects to produce as feature films. Learn more in a Q&A with Studios Chief Roy Price, Senior Content Manager Michael Lewis and Amazon Studios award winners Alex Greenfield and Gary Milin.

Our panel will take place from 3:15-4 p.m. on July 23 (Saturday) at the Marriott, Hall 1&2 – right next to the San Diego Convention Center. It’s part of the Comic-Con International Independent International Film Festival, and should provide a pleasant break from the Hall H mayhem.

Hope to see you there!

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

So you finished your screenplay, and now it’s the agonizing process of waiting for feedback.

Without feedback – unless you’re some kind of writing God – you’re lost. And forget about sending that script to Mom or Dad. You need brutally honest feedback… especially from other writers. Why? Because they’re swimming in the same shit as you are, and generally, they care.

That’s why positioning yourself to receive real usable and constructive feedback takes much more than settling with family and friends (because it take them months, if not years to read anything), script consultants (because few are good, many are not, but they all take your money), or the “mythical” studio-lot-high-powered-office-drop-off (because in reality, it just doesn’t work).

Instead, I suggest three reasonable and pragmatic steps to attaining great feedback.

          1. Create a Writer’s Group

Deadlines!

There’s nothing better than a deadline to get a writer to kick some screenplay butt, and if you’re like most writers, it’s hard to stay on track for self-imposed deadlines. Three months becomes six months, which turns into a year, and you’re still not finished with the stinking first draft!

And if you can’t finish, there’s no point in beginning the arduous task of seeking out feedback. Why? Because no one should give you notes until it’s done. Once someone can look at the whole picture, the major note might be to change the dramatic premise in the first act, or maybe the second act reveals that the story is really about another character and not the current protagonist, ultimately concluding that it’s time to throw out the first act all together – which probably means a page one rewrite.

Here in lies the problem: without deadlines, the probability of finishing is not in your favor. So, what’s the solution? Create a writer’s group. Not only do you make each other accountable to deliver, but you also have a core of writers to give you free and honest feedback.

Six members is ideal, both men and women. If you meet once a month, you’ll present new material twice a year: that’s two features! Not too shabby. You’ll also read ten original spec scripts a year, providing critical feedback each time to your fellow group members. This is no hollow exercise, because you can often learn more about screenwriting by helping others solve their script problems, and those lessons taught will be parlayed into better writing of your own.

If you’re straight out of film school, putting together a group is easy. If not, use Craigslist, social networking, or any platform really to make it happen. Virtual groups are okay (which may be the only option for the geographically isolated writer), but the best option is to find writers in the same local area, so you can literally sit down together every month and workshop.

          2. Go to the Bar… and Get Over It

Now, assuming you’re part of that writer’s group or lucky enough to find willing critical readers that actually understand screenwriting - people who aren’t afraid to pour salt in your writing wounds – you must refrain from taking a defensive stand. Sure, the script is your baby, but that doesn’t mean it’s a healthy infant. You’re not entitled to sugar coated compliments just because you finished a screenplay, and if “you can’t handle the truth” that your “baby” needs an extensive stint in writing ICU, you’ll never make it as a writer.

Now let’s say you receive this coveted and usually painful feedback. What next? Here’s some advice: Good news (a rarity), go to the bar, get drunk, and celebrate; bad news (expect this), go to the bar, get drunk, and be pissed off at the world; but in either case, the next day… GET OVER IT! Writing (and life for that matter) is always about the next play. So, what’s it going to be: fumble again or score the touchdown?

          3. The Feedback Follow Through

Even though Hollywood is a town that lives and breathes screenplays – one of the most daunting tasks for the screenwriter is to submit his or her script to the people in power: industry executives, producers, agents and managers. The best script in the world will go unnoticed unless it’s read by the movers and shakers in the industry, whose stamp of approval is necessary to get the movie made.

But even if you’re fortunate enough or know the right people to get your screenplay read, the probability of rejection is still high. The problem, however, does not rest with rejection. Instead, it’s the frustrating experience that the “no” almost always never comes with any useful advice or honest explanation as to why your screenplay failed. The “no” almost never comes with any feedback.

Is it a structure issue? A character problem? A story situation? Knowing what didn’t work and why is necessary to make the screenplay better. Writing is rewriting after all.

Now I don’t mean to imply that agents and managers, producers, and creative executives can’t give amazing and very focused feedback. Some of the best feedback I’ve ever received came from the “non-writers” perspective, and often it’s simply one note that changes everything for the better. But nobody cares about your screenplay as much as you do, and therefore, to get the feedback, you have to ask for it.

Never be satisfied with the “no” answer. Because if you don’t know what the problem areas are, how can you repair them? This is why I urge every writer not to be afraid to ask for clear feedback. The squeaky wheel does get the oil. So when you’re rejected, do yourself an enormous service and ask the person who said “no” for an honest explanation.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

By Michael Schilf
The Script Lab

I was born in Evanston, IL: population 75,543. Grew up in Kenosha, WI: population 96,240. Went to school in Milwaukee: population 573,358. And now I’m a husband and father of three, living and working in Los Angeles: population 3,849,378. According to the most recent estimates from the United States Census Bureau, I went from small to bigger to the second largest city in the country. But those are just numbers. When it comes to screenplay story, population stems from your main protagonist and the characters involved in his or her specific world.

As an infant in Evanston, my population was pretty simple: mom, dad, and me. But mom and dad divorced, and mom and I had moved to Kenosha before my third birthday. I lived there for 15 more years, and as a kid in a relatively Norman Rockwell community, the population of my life changed depending upon which story I was in at the time.

Wisconsin summers filled with dirt bikes, basketball, and kick-the-can were pages right out of Rob Reiner’s Stand by Me. There were four of us: Bart, Brian, Clint, and myself. We were inseparable, a cohesive team, battling our adversaries: the old witch in the corner house who’d call the police every time we’d climb her evergreen, the bully who’d chase us out of Newman Park with a seven-iron and an endless supply of golf balls, and the entire staff at The Brompton School after we accidentally set their parking lot on fire. Our population was small: four 12-year-old boys. And we were, as Shakespeare said, truly a “band of brothers.” But that’s just one story - one population.

There are dozens of different populations in everyone’s lives: coworkers, classmates, your yoga group at the YMCA. But you can’t determine what the specific population of your screenplay is (and it must be specific) until you decide whose story it is first. Start by creating a complex and flawed protagonist who has a clear objective. Make sure this protagonist will learn, grow, or change in some way after the experience; this helps build a powerful character arc. Do your best to provide polarity in order to maximize the opportunity for conflict. But most importantly, keep things small.

In screenwriting, less really is more. There is a reason only six college friends go off to the cabin in the Horror film. The elite commando unit, regardless of genre, is always small and well contained: Aliens, The Seven Samurai, Predator, Saving Private Ryan. Mot every rom-com has best friends for each male and female counterpart. 

I may have grown up in a city with 96,240 people, but the population of my many worlds was always small, always specific. Even today, living in Los Angeles, a city that’s sure to break four million once all the census forms are tallied, the central population of my most important world is only five: my wife and kids.

So don’t reinvent the wheel. Fill the population of your screenplay with interesting characters and use polarity to create opportunities for conflict, but always limit your population. It’s a small world after all. So keep it that way.

         See more more from The Script Lab.

screenwritingtips:

“I’m writing a western” is no excuse for a protagonist with no arc, female characters who act as either problems or prizes, and page after page of boring, ‘atmospheric’ description. Bring something new to the genre.

Lots of Westerns on Amazon Studios. Do you think they all meet this bar?