I was one of those troubled souls who loved Braveheart so much that I actually memorized the famous battle speech and recited it, in full character, wherever I could. Needless to say, I was kicked out of my fair share of establishments. The thing is, I saw Braveheart before I got into this whole screenwriting thing, and I’ve always wanted to go back and break it down with all the newfound knowledge I’ve accumulated. I must admit I’m bit intimidated by the “epic” screenplay though, because you can’t structure 180 page scripts the same way you do 110 page scripts. To me, getting someone to WANT to read a full 180 pages is the biggest feat you can achieve as a screenwriter. 95% of the scripts I read can’t keep me interested past page 5. So I’m always fascinated by the writers who pull this off. Speaking of, Randall Wallace, who got an Oscar nomination for this screenplay (the movie itself won the Oscar for best picture) has been M.I.A. for the last dozen years. The last thing he wrote was We Are Soldiers. I’m fascinated and a bit terrified by this. How do screenwriters go from the top of the heap to the bottom of the barrel so quickly??? I mean, this is a great script!

1) Let us see what shaped your character’s life in an epic – I realized with Braveheart how effective it was to actually SEE what shaped our character. We watch as William Wallace loses his father to the English, then later as his wife is murdered by the English. Because we were there when it happened, we root for Wallace more than had those experiences been mere backstory. In a typical 2 hour film, you don’t always have time to show these memories. But in an epic, the option is there.

2) Epics and Sequences – I realized the key to structuring epics is they need sequences. That means constructing a series of 15 page “mini-stories,” each with a specific purpose, that span the entire script. So in the first sequence of Braveheart, it’s about a young child’s dad dying. In the second, it’s about William Wallace courting a girl. The third is Wallace getting revenge for his wife’s murder. The fourth is Wallace’s rise. As long as each sequence is focused on a specific thing, your script should never wander, no matter how long it gets.

3) Think of “sequences” as a to-do list – When you think about your huge day and all the things you need to accomplish, it feels impossible. But when you break it down into specific tasks and focus on one at a time, it’s all of a sudden manageable. Approach your epic (or any script) the same way. As an entire story, it’s big and intimidating. But once you break it down into smaller chunks (sequences), it all of a sudden feels doable.

4) Make each battle unique – What really separates Braveheart from a lot of epics is how original and well thought-out each battle was. The first battle is an impromptu attack on the men who killed Wallace’s wife. The next, the Scottish sneak into a castle pretending to be English soldiers. The next is the big battle, where they use a surprise anti-horse stake attack as well as flanking the enemy with their own horses. The next, they storm York with brute force. The next, the Irish surprisingly switch sides mid-battle and join the Scottish. When I read boring period pieces, they tend to involve boring, unimaginative battles that all feel similar. Try to put just as much thought into each battle as you would your story. Be different, take chances, find a cool angle.

5) Know when to take your time and when to speed up – Part of screenwriting is knowing when to take things slow and when to move it along. Mel Gibson and writer Randall Wallace had a disagreement about the revenge scene (the one that takes place after Wallace’s wife is killed). In Randall’s version, Wallace storms into the town like a bat on fire. Gibson’s version, which made the film, took it way slower, with Wallace coming in quietly. Without question, Gibson’s version was the better choice. And the reason slow worked was because the revenge we wanted was so potent. We were willing to wait for it. Had Wallace been avenging something less personal, such as the slaughter of a bunch of nameless characters, going in faster may have been the better choice.

6) Use a personal relationship to villain-ize your villain – Most villains are general and boring. They scream out cliché “villain-y” things like, “Take them down!” and “We must crush them!” Since these phrases are so general, they don’t individualize the villain. Instead, look for a personal relationship to place your villain in so you can explore his evilness on an up-close level. In Braveheart, we get this with King Longshanks and his homosexual son, with whom he spends the entire story berating and abusing. Because we’re exposed to the villainy on an up-close and personal level (at one point Longshanks even kills his son’s boyfriend), it’s specific, and therefore makes the villain feel REAL.

7) The power of reversals – Braveheart is built on reversals, using them wonderfully. There are so many times in this movie where we expect one thing, but get another. We think Wallace will save his wife when her throat is about to be slit. Instead, she’s killed. He comes in afterwards, looking like he’s surrendering. He attacks instead. Two men join his party later, one crazy and unpredictable, the other straightforward and dependable. When the three go hunting, it is the “good” one who tries to kill Wallace and the “bad” one who saves his life. In the second big battle, the Irish are on the English’s side. As they attack, they stop and join the Scottish instead. Later in the battle, Wallace calls in the cavalry, as is part of the plan. They walk away instead, double-crossing him. Braveheart is so fun because it’s always reversing something.

8) Epics need epic motivation – Remember, you’re asking your reader to stick around for 60 more minutes than normal. That’s only going to work if you have a main character who’s so compelling that we’re willing to follow him forever. You do this by giving him an EPIC motivation. We watch Wallace lose his father and then later the love of his life. That right there is epic motivation. Of course we want to stick around until he defeats the English.

9) If possible, give your hero a big picture AND little picture goal – Characters work best when they have two reasons for going after their goal, one overarching, the other more personal. So here, Wallace is fighting for the freedom of his country (overarching). But he’s also fighting for revenge (personal).

10) How do you write a great speech!? – I came into this script wanting to know why the Braveheart speech was so amazing, while almost every other movie speech I’ve seen since has paled in comparison. Here’s what I learned. First, there’s humor! Wallace starts out by making some jokes to his soldiers. It lightens the mood and is a little unexpected (which is always good). Second, there’s interaction! The soldiers challenge him, breaking up his speech so it’s not so scripted. Third, there’s a point! He’s not just trying to rile people up. He needs to CONVINCE this army to fight for him. In fact, you can break this entire speech down into GSU. Goal – get them to fight for him. Stakes – England will take over Scotland if he doesn’t succeed. Urgency – He needs to do it RIGHT NOW. The battle is about to begin!

Author Ira Levin’s book about a woman impregnated with Satan’s child was deemed so commercial that legendary producer Robert Evans snatched up the rights before the book was even finished. He then recruited European director Roman Polanski to write and direct the film, which would become Polanski’s first foray into American cinema. Polanski wanted his wife, Sharon Tate, to play the part of Rosemary, but Evans convinced him to go with Mia Farrow, despite the fact that her husband at the time, Frank Sinatra, wanted her to quit the profession. In fact, when she officially accepted the part, he filed for divorce. The film’s adapted screenplay went on to get nominated for an Oscar and was a huge box office success, grossing ten times its budget. Some, however, believe that because of the movie’s subject matter, its principal participants were cursed. Polanski, of course, lost his wife in the Manson murders, then later sexually assaulted a young girl, forcing him to flee to France and never set foot in America again. And Mia Farrow, after being left by Sinatra, eventually married Woody Allen, which of course ended in tragedy when she found out Allen was having a sexual relationship with her adopted daughter from a previous marriage. Regardless of all that, Rosemary’s Baby is one of the best movies from the 60s, and therefore ripe for its share of screenwriting tips.

1) The Villain Goal – I often talk about giving your protagonist a goal, as that goal will drive the story. However, if your protagonist doesn’t have a goal, you can transfer the goal over to the story’s villain. That’s the case with Rosemary’s Baby. The story is being driven by a goal held by Rosemary’s elderly neighbors, Roman and Minnie Castevet. The two need a woman to carry Satan’s baby. And she’s been chosen.

2) DRAMATIC IRONY ALERT – Remember what Dramatic Irony is. It’s when we know something one of the key characters does not. And it works best when the thing we know is something that puts our character in danger. Almost all of Rosemary’s Baby is based on this device. We know that she’s carrying the devil’s baby and that all these people around her are manipulating her, but she doesn’t. We want to scream, “Run! Get away from everyone!” which is usually when “dramatic irony” is working best.

3) Look for your scares using human psychological elements – When most writers think about scares, they think of the cliché stuff. Ghosts, demons, witches, etc. Rosemary’s Baby is a horror film without any real “scares.” Its horror comes from its psychological nature, the fact that Rosemary is being manipulated. To me, the scariest situation of all is when the person you’re supposed to trust the most deceives you, which is a big part of why this movie works so well. Rosemary’s own husband has sold her off to the devil. If you can’t trust your own spouse, who can you trust?

4) When writing a horror film, jump into your mysteries right away – You need to hook your reader immediately in a horror script, and one of the best ways to do this is to introduce a mystery inside the first couple of scenes. Here, we see it when Rosemary and her husband, Guy, are checking out the apartment. They discover an armoire hiding a closet. Keep in mind, this is the 60s. If the screenwriter is jumping right into the mysteries in a 1968 film, you better hope you’re doing it in 2013, where audiences are 10,000 times less patient.

5) Contained movies require writers adept at adding conflict – Remember, when writing a contained film (almost all of Rosemary’s Baby takes place in an apartment), you need to add AS MUCH CONFLICT AS POSSIBLE. You do this in three main areas – internal level, relationship level, and external level. On the internal level, Rosemary battles with her desire to make everyone happy, even though inside everything’s telling her to look out for herself. That line of conflict stays present throughout the entire movie. On the relationship level, Rosemary is having marital issues with her husband, Guy, who seems to be putting his career ahead of Rosemary. This causes lots of conflict during their time together. And of course, externally, Rosemary is battling the invasion of her elderly neighbors, who are trying to control her life. Conflict should be present in all your films, but you better PACK IT IN if you’re writing a contained film.

6) Nice Villains Finish First – I continue to believe that nice villains (when done right) are the scariest villains of all. Asshole cruel dickhead terrible villains are often cliché and boring. Whereas there will always be situations where scary or “clearly bad” villains are necessary (i.e. Buffalo Bill wasn’t very nice), nice villains should at least be considered when writing your script. Here we have neighbors Minnie and Roman Castevet, who have orchestrated the rape and manipulation of our heroine, Rosemary. But they’re always there for her with a smile. They’re the first people to help here whenever there’s a problem. This movie just does not work if these two are forceful and mean and clearly cruel.

7) Don’t let your protagonist be wimpy for too long – In this kind of movie, everything is predicated on our character being duped. So for a good portion of the movie, the protagonist must play that role. But if this goes on for too long, we start to get frustrated by the character, sometimes even turning on them. We don’t like characters who don’t do anything to change their shitty circumstances. So at some point (usually in the second half of the second act) the protagonist should start rebelling. Here, it’s when Rosemary throws her own party. From that point on, Rosemary begins making her own decisions, as opposed to letting the decisions be made for her.

8) Build up suspense by allowing your audience to see their presents the night before Christmas – Waiting for the horror to finally arrive is one of the more enjoyable aspects of watching a horror film. But it’s a lot more fun when the writer teases that horror. It’s kind of like getting to touch and lift and shake your gifts the night before Christmas. It gets your mind spinning, excited and curious about what could be in those boxes. Here we get the armoire blocking the closet. We also get Rosemary’s friend, Hutch, warning her about all the strange deaths in her building. We see it later in the first act when Rosemary’s new friend seemingly commits suicide by jumping to her death. These moments are just like getting to hold and shake those unwrapped gifts. They make us eager to see what’s inside.

9) Whoever has the goal that’s driving the movie (even if it’s your villain) should encounter obstacles along the way – This is important to remember. When your hero is driving the movie with their goal, what makes their journey interesting are all the obstacles they encounter along the way. This same approach must be applied if your villain is the one driving the story. Since our villains’ goal is to guide Rosemary through her pregnancy so she has a healthy baby, Polanski creates ways to foil that plan. First, Rosemary’s friend Hutch shows up, who becomes suspicious of Rosemary’s neighbors. Then later, Rosemary insists on throwing a party with all her old friends, friends who could conceivably convince her how strange her pregnancy is. Regardless of who has the goal in your story, they should always encounter obstacles.

10) Go against the obvious with your horror ending – Again, most writers believe that a horror ending has to be the grandest scariest freakiest craziest spookiest scenario possible. As a result, a lot of the endings to horror scripts end up being similar. What separates Rosemary’s Baby and a big reason it’s such a classic, is that it does the exact opposite with its ending. Rosemary walks through a brightly lit apartment with people everywhere, sitting and talking in very non-threatening ways. Nobody really says or does anything when they see her. She’s allowed to be in the room without retaliation. What makes it so spooky is just how un-spooky it is!

These are 10 tips from the movie “Rosemary’s Baby.” To get 500 more tips from movies as varied as “Aliens,” “Pulp Fiction,” and “The Hangover,” check out my book, Scriptshadow Secrets, on Amazon!

Forrest Gump may be one of the biggest anomalies in the history of moviemaking. There’s nothing here to indicate it should’ve worked besides, maybe, Tom Hanks. As a story, it goes against pretty much every rule out there. There is no goal. There are no obstacles. There’s no urgency. No real stakes to speak of. Yet it was the highest grossing movie the year it came out. It won the Oscar for best picture, best director, best screenplay. It was widely successful on just about every level. Eric Roth (who adapted the novel) is a fascinating writer. In his 30 year career, he’s never once written a spec script (until last year, ironically, when he penned a mysterious sci-fi project). He doesn’t seem to have read or studied screenwriting on any level. His approach is very much intuitive. If you look at his body of work (Benjamin Button, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Insider) he appears to eschew structure. His style is more flowy, almost like he’s following the story wherever it takes him, as long as that avenue is interesting. It’s an approach that many screenwriters attempt and fail at, but for some reason it works for him. Of course, some may argue it doesn’t. Forrest Gump is one of the most polarizing movies out there. I think it’s great, but many people absolutely despise it. Either way, it’s such a unique movie that I thought I’d break it down and see if I couldn’t find some cool screenwriting tips from it. Let’s give it a shot…

1) Say it with me: UN-DER-DOG – Forrest Gump reminds us how damn likable the underdog character is. Think about it. Who doesn’t like an underdog? And Forrest is the king of the underdogs. He’s a simpleton. He’s got leg braces. Everyone makes fun of him. He wants a girl he can never have. It’s impossible not to root for this guy. And if you have an audience rooting for your character, you’ve done the majority of your work. Rootforability accounts for probably 80% of Forrest Gump’s success. We just love this character.

2) Take some risks in your screenplay – One of the constants in Forrest Gump is that it takes tons of chances, and risky ones at that. Forrest’s great grandfather started the Ku Klux Klan. His mother prostitutes herself to the principal to keep Forrest in school. These aren’t things you’d typically associate with a “feel good” movie. Therefore it’s one of the reasons Forrest Gump feels different from every other movie out there.

3) But only if you have a great character – I’m all for taking chances. Forrest Gump proves how good a movie can be when you take risks. But if you’re going to take risks, make sure you have one hell of a main character, as he’ll act as a safety net for risks gone wrong. Forrest Gump, love him or hate him, is an unforgettable character. He alone is the reason this script can buck traditional structure and still get away with it. Taking huge story risks with average characters (or even “good” characters) is probably a death wish.

4) CONFLICT ALERT – Remember that if your script lacks structure, there better be some major forms of conflict to drive the drama. Preferably, you’d like one big EXTERIOR conflict and one big INTERIOR conflict. The exterior conflict here is that Forrest loves Jenny, but she doesn’t love him back. The interior conflict is Forrest’s desire to be smart when he’s dumb. These two conflicts drive the majority of the story’s emotional component.

5) If you don’t have a goal driving your movie, make use of “The Dramatic Question” – You all know how much I like character goals. Yet there aren’t any in Forrest Gump. We’re just experiencing Forrest’s crazy life along with him. So, if you find yourself writing that kind of movie, make sure you AT LEAST have a “Dramatic Question.” That’s a question whose answer has large ramifications for your central characters. In other words, it must be DRAMATIC. Here, the question is, “Will Forrest get Jenny?” That’s the only consistent dramatic aspect driving Forrest Gump, and because we care so much about Forrest and Jenny as characters, it’s a powerful one.

6) Look to add a visual element that symbolizes your story – Forrest starts with a feather floating along in the breeze. This feather symbolizes Forrest’s journey, which floats along unpredictably as well, Ferris never knowing where he’s going to end up next. That feather became one of the bigger talking points after the film was released.

7) We despise people who complain about their shitty lot in life and do nothing to change it – We already talked about how likable the underdog character is. Yet another reason why Forrest is so likable is that he has all these disadvantages, yet never uses them as an excuse. He always pushes forward and tries to make the best out of his situation. I can’t stress how likable these people are in both real life and in the movies. If you can write this type of character into your movie, do it. We’ll instantly fall in love with them. (note – while this is true for main characters, it isn’t for secondary characters, like Lt. Dan.  Just make sure those characters change by the end of the movie)

8) The “Relationship Save The Cat” Moment – Lots of us focus on the ‘save the cat’ moment for our main character. But in a love story, I think you need a ‘save the cat’ moment for your couple as well. We need that moment that’s going to make us love them together, that’s going to make us want them to be together. To me, that moment comes when Jenny and Forrest hide from her drunken abusive father in the fields. It’s a “them against the world” moment that makes us sympathize and care for them.

9) IRONY ALERT – Irony is one of the most powerful tools in writing. Audiences LOVE IT. And it’s one of the reasons Forrest Gump is so popular. Forrest is the dumbest character in the movie, yet he’s the most successful character by far. This movie doesn’t work without that irony. For example, if Forrest was smart and he achieved all this, we’d be bored because, duh, why wouldn’t he be successful? He’s super-smart.

10) Comedy is your main weapon to combat melodrama – Forrest Gump could’ve been SUPER melodramatic. It has Forrest’s best friend dying on the battlefield, his mother dying of cancer, and the love of his life dying of AIDS. But the film places comedy at such a high premium, that it balances those moments out. Without all the comedy here, those melodramatic moments would’ve sunk this script.

Ghostbusters has one of the best comedy movie hooks ever. Dudes. Busting ghosts. It makes me nostalgic for the days of the high concept comedy. Nowadays, we’re inundated with all these low-concept comedies. A guy and a girl having relationship troubles? Welcome to the next big comedy starring Paul Rudd and Reese Witherspoon: THE RELATIONSHIP! I figure it’s only a matter of time before the high concept comedy makes a comeback. So I’ll just deal with it for now. Originally written by Dan Akroyd (eventually Ivan Reitman came on), the original concept for Ghostbusters was much bigger, with the Ghostbusters travelling through time and battling much more ambitious ghosts. But when Akroyd brought the script to Reitman, Reitman noted that it would be way too expensive to make, so Akroyd dialed the story back. Reitman also (wisely) encouraged Akroyd to ground the story in reality. Akroyd originally conceived of a dream cast that included Eddie Murphy, John Candy, and John Belushi. Belushi then died during the writing of the script, and Candy and Murphy weren’t interested. I’d say it turned out okay though, with Bill Murray coming in, and Akroyd and Harold Ramis filling out the roles of the other Ghostbusters. Now, as much as this script thrived due to its special effects and great performances, there are still a few things we can learn from the script itself. Let’s take a look…

1) Introduce MULTIPLE FACETS of your character in their intro scene – The more you can tell us about your character right away, the better. So with Venkman (Bill Murray) performing bogus telepathy tests on a couple of college coeds, we’re not just learning he’s a selfish womanizing jerk, we’re also establishing that he’s involved in the supernatural (telepathy), which is obviously a key element in our story. A lesser writer would’ve established Venkman at a fast food restaurant or in his car. By placing him in his element when we first meet him, we learn a lot more about the guy.

2) It’s okay to state the relationship of your characters in the descriptive text – Oftentimes in scripts, I struggle to understand one character’s relationship to another. The writer knows, but since it’s never been clearly stated, I don’t. Even though it’s technically a cheat, go ahead and DIRECTLY TELL US the relationship in the descriptive text. So here, when Stantz (Dan Akroyd) is introduced, we get this text: He is Venkman’s colleague and best friend. It’s blunt but it saves me a lot of confusion and possible assumption. You want to use this trick sparingly and only for your important relationships. But know that it’s there for you if you need it.

3) Science-Fiction Comedies are one of the most undervalued genres out there – Men In Black, Back To The Future, Ghostbusters, Hancock, Night At The Museum. These movies make tons of money and yet it’s still a genre I don’t see a lot of writers writing in. Take advantage of this niche market if possible.

4) If you don’t have an immediate goal, at least make sure things are moving forward – I’m all about the story goal. But I admit not every story fits perfectly into that model at all times. Like here, the initial goal for the Ghostbusters is vague: “Become paranormal investigators and start earning a living at it.” If that’s the case, just make sure your characters continue to WORK TOWARDS SOMETHING. As long as they’re moving forward, we’ll feel like the story is moving forward. Here, the Ghostbusters get office space, they get a car, they create a commercial. They’re not going after anything specific yet, but they’re still ACTIVE.

5) Comedies are one of the last remaining genres purely for spec writers – All the big fantasy stuff is adapted these days. Period pieces are often derived from books. Dramas as well. The occasional sci-fi spec will get through, but that too, studios prefer to be adapted. The only genres studios are always looking for in the spec market these days are basically comedies and thrillers. Another reason to dust off that comedy spec.

6) As soon as you hit your characters with a huge up, hit them with a huge down – This is a tried and true story device and seems to always work. After the Ghostbusters hit their first breakthrough – seeing a ghost for the first time, they get back to the University to find out they’ve been fired. Audiences love having their emotions ripped from one extreme to another. It’s the theme park equivalent of a roller coaster ride.

7) MID-POINT TWIST ALERT – Ghostbusters has a great mid-point twist. Remember, a mid-point twist should slightly twist the story in a new direction so it doesn’t get stale. Here, it’s when Dana (Sigourney Weaver) and Louis (her neighbor) become possessed. This sets the movie off in a much bigger and more dangerous direction (and as any good mid-point twist should do, it severely ups the stakes!).

8) Don’t tell us in the descriptive text that something is going to happen, then repeat that same information in the dialogue that follows – Ugh, this is such a distracting amateur move! So I was surprised to see it in the Ghostbusters screenplay. Akroyd writes in the description: Stantz is immediately intrigued by the idea but voices his reservations. Then STANTZ says: “I don’t know. That costs money. And the ecto-containment system we have in mind will require a load of bread to capitalize.” Why did you tell us he was voicing his reservations when we just saw him voice his reservations?? Try something like this description instead: Stantz is immediately intrigued by the idea but then— Then cut to the dialogue.

9) To spice up a scene, add an ulterior motive – Rarely are scenes any good when they’re ONLY about what’s going on. Typically, there needs to be something going on underneath the surface as well. An “ulterior motive” is a tried and true tool that automatically ups the entertainment level of a scene. For example, early on, Venkman goes to Dana’s apartment to check out the ghost activity she says she experienced. Alone this scene would’ve been pretty straight-forward. But Akroyd adds Venkman’s ulterior motive of trying to snag Dana, and all of a sudden this scene becomes fun. Take note that the “ulterior motive scene” doesn’t just work for comedy. It works in any genre.

10) Build quirks into your character for better dialogue – Venkman’s a sarcastic smart-ass. So he has fun little smartass comments. “May I see this storage facility?” our villain asks, in reference to the facility holding the captured ghosts. “No, you may not.” “And why not, Mr. Venkman?” “Because you didn’t say the magic word.” That dialogue derives directly from Venkman being a smartass. Spengler (Harold Ramis), on the other hand, is socially inept, unable to process sarcasm. When he’s looking for a ghost in the hotel and encounters a woman in her room wearing a towel, he asks, “Were you recently in the bathroom?” “What on earth gave you that idea?” she retorts sarcastically. “The wet towels, residual moisture on your lower limbs and hair, the redness in your cheeks.” Build those little quirks into your character from the get go and they’ll feed you good dialogue without you having to work for it.

BONUS TIP: Ellipses indicate a pause. Dashes indicate a character being cut off. – Elipses at the end of dialogue (…) are meant to indicate a pause. Dashes (–) at the end of dialogue are meant to show someone being cut off. I see these getting mixed up all the time and since they basically mean the opposite of each other, getting it wrong can really hurt your screenplay.

These are 10 tips from the movie “Ghostbusters.” To get 500 more screenwriting tips from movies as varied as “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind,” “Pulp Fiction,” and “The Hangover,” check out my book, Scriptshadow Secrets, on Amazon!

Yeah, I know. I’m breaking the first rule of Fight Club by writing this article. But I thought it was time to dissect a screenplay that wasn’t like anything I’ve dissected before. Fight Club was one of the biggest gambles of the decade. The movie was not traditional in any way. You could argue that there isn’t a single scene in the first 60 minutes that pushes the story forward. Heck, you could make the argument that there isn’t even a plot. But that’s exactly why I wanted to break it down. We look at a lot of conventional stories here. But there are a lot of you who hate the Hollywood formula, who are looking to do things differently. I thought it’d be fun, then, to feature a script that ignores almost every rule in the book. Maybe we can find a baseline for writing one of these screenplays ourselves.

1) If you’re going to ignore structure, embrace theme – I’ve found that these formless, structure-less scripts work best when the theme is strong. That’s because when you don’t have a traditional plot, you need something else to link everything together. Theme becomes that link. Fight Club has a very strong theme. It’s about the frustration of growing up and not getting what the world promised us. It’s about the empty angry feelings that drive us as a result. Have a weak plot? Incorporate a strong theme.

2) Voice over is your friend in non-traditional scripts – Again, when you don’t have a clean plot, a clean structure, you need a way to link everything together. Fight Club jumps forward, backward, backward even more, forward again. There’s no clear goal, no plot. BUT, Jack’s constant voice over guides us through this rocky terrain effortlessly. We’re not really lost because he’s holding our hand. Keep this in mind if you’re writing a plot that’s all over the place.

3) In non-traditional scripts, character is king – Characters are important no matter what. But strong characters become imperative when you don’t have a traditional plot. Since there’s no clear goal driving us forward, the characters become the only reason to watch. So they have to be FASCINATING. At least one has to be SUPER BIG AND MEMORABLE (in this case, Tyler). But even your straight man (main character) needs to be unique somehow. Jack, with his constant rambling and philosophizing, with his insomnia, with his dependence on group therapy, is almost as interesting to watch as Tyler.

4) Use ACTION in dialogue scenes to reveal character – Avoid characters standing around when talking/arguing if possible. Instead, have them (or one of them) doing something that reveals something new about their character. Instead of Jack and Marla (the love interest) arguing over who gets what support groups in a single room, we’re following Marla as she walks across the street, steals clothes from a dryer, then walks over to a thrift shop and sells them. This way, we achieve the characters’ goals (hashing out who gets what support group) WHILE revealing something about Marla (that she’s a thief with no morals who will do anything to get by).

5) Utilize callbacks to initiate consistency throughout your unconventional screenplay — Remember, if you don’t have as clear of a plot, you need to create the illusion of connectivity wherever you can. You do this by bringing up something, then calling back to it throughout the screenplay. So early on we see that Jack’s become a slave to IKEA. It’s a nice funny moment. And that could’ve been it. But later we see Jack sitting on his bedroom floor, assembling IKEA furniture. It’s a callback that creates connectivity – desperately needed when your plot is nonexistent or unclear.

6) No matter how unconventional your script is, make sure it still contains CONFLICT – Even in non-traditional indie cult classics like Fight Club, you’ll see that one of the most important storytelling tools is still utilized – conflict. Our two main characters here are polar opposites. Jack is reserved and careful. Tyler is aggressive and careless. This leads to a lot of fun conflict-filled conversations and scenes. Never underestimate how important of a device this is.

7) Be imaginative – If you’re writing an unconventional screenplay, you gotta go all out. You have to eliminate those filters that tell you “this is right” and “this is wrong.” If we’re going to endure a plot-less story, we have to be rewarded with lots of shit we haven’t seen before. So have fun. Do the opposite of what you’d normally do. We have a 300 pound man with bitch tits. We have characters stealing cellulite out of trash bins. We have Jack chilling out with penguins in a cave. “Different” scripts are your opportunity to highlight your imagination. Don’t disappoint us by putting limitations on that imagination.

8) Your character’s job should sync up with the tone of the film – Fight Club is dark and disturbing. So Jack’s job, naturally, should be dark and disturbing. Jack isn’t a lawyer. He’s a recall coordinator. He decides after a deadly horrifying car crash where teenagers and babies have died, whether that car should be recalled or not. That fits perfectly with the dark tone of Fight Club.

9) Formal sentences are not required in screenplays – As crazy as it sounds, you can use sentence fragments when writing a screenplay, as long as they’re clear. For example, to indicate that Jack is on a street, the paragraph under the slugline begins, “Along a residential street.” That’s the sentence. Would it work in an English class? No. But screenplays aren’t about perfect grammar. They’re about saying as much as possible in as few words as possible. You could’ve used the more robotic: “We are standing on a residential street.” But it doesn’t sound as smooth or free-flowing.

10) These kinds of scripts are nearly impossible to write – I don’t want to end this on a negative note but it’s important you know that I read tons of scripts from writers trying to “break the rules” and “do something different” and they’re usually the worst scripts I read. That’s because it’s hard to write something that doesn’t have a goal, that doesn’t have a conventional purpose, and keep it interesting for 110 pages. It takes an amazing amount of skill and a ton of talent. So I just want you to know what you’re getting into. You’re basically counting on yourself to be one of those one-in-a-billion brilliant writers. But hey, if you believe in yourself that much and want to take a chance? Go for it. ☺

These are 10 tips from the movie “Fight Club.” To get 500 more tips from movies as varied as “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind,” “Pulp Fiction,” and “The Hangover,” check out my book, Scriptshadow Secrets, on Amazon!