Taylor Sheridan solidifies himself as a Top 5 screenwriter in Hollywood with his latest.
Genre: 1 Hour TV Drama
Premise: In a small town surrounded by seven prisons, two brothers do everything in their power to keep an all-out war from erupting in the community.
About: Paramount looks to be building its Paramount + streaming service around one name – Taylor Sheridan. Sheridan, who already has a major hit at Paramount with Yellowstone, has two Yellowstone offshoots teed up and then this one, Mayor of Kingstown, with Jeremy Renner in the lead. Antoine Fuqua is executive producing and will likely direct the first episode.
Writer: Taylor Sheridan (story co-created by Hugh Dillon)
Details: 48 pages
No, for those wondering, this is NOT a sequel to the Mare of Easttown. At least I don’t think it is. Come to think of it, I have no idea. What if it is a sequel to the Mare of Easttown? I guess we’re going to find out.
We see a tennis ball launch over a fence and come to a stop. Two combat boots enter frame, hands emerge and pick the ball up, a man slices the ball open, retrieves $200. We pull back to see we’re in a prison. We pull back further still to see this prison sits next to another prison. And then another prison. There are seven prisons in total here, all of them nestled up against one small town.
We meet Mike and Mitch Mclusky. Mike is the muscle. Mitch is the brains. Together, they’re trying to keep this town together. You see, every single day there’s some kind of issue in one of the prisons. For example, maybe a white prisoner crossed a line with a black prisoner and now he’s a marked man. The white prisoner’s father will come to Mike and Mitch and plead that they do something to help his kid. Mitch, who’s known as the “mayor” of this town, even though he’s just the superintendent of these prisons, usually figures out a solution.
The story really picks up when Mike and Mitch are given a map by an old associate named Milo through an intermediary named Vera, a local stripper. Milo helped them out a long time ago so they have to do what he says. And right now, he’s buried 200,000 dollars for them to retrieve on the other side of town.
Mike and Mitch retrieve the money without any issues and Mitch throws it in his safe. Mind you, this is dirty money. Mike and Mitch are definitely on the take. And why wouldn’t they be? They’re keeping this town together!
Well, that night, a stringy gangbanger named Alberto gets a lap dance from Vera, who makes him feel like the biggest man in the world when he’s paying, but turns off the charm the second the dance is over. Furious, Alberto secretly follows her home, rapes her, kills her, then finds a copy of the map she gave Mitch.
Alberto traces the map back to Mitch (**spoilers coming**), shows up in his office, and demands that he give Alberto the money. Mitch, comfortable around crazy people, casually retrieves the money for Alberto, who then casually lifts his gun and shoots Mitch in the side of his head. Mitch is dead. He then cooly walks out with 200 grand.
Across town, Mike is attacked by a bunch of crips after one of the men Mike was protecting in prison disobeyed an order and attacked a crip. Mike is barely able to get out of the situation alive and storms back to town hall to yell at his brother for not giving him a heads up. Instead, he finds out his brother is dead. Mike will now have to decide if he wants to take his brother’s place as the NEW Mayor of Kingstown.
Whatever “it” is in regards to screenwriting, Taylor Sheridan has it.
I generally don’t enjoy super-serious stories about small towns. The stories tend to be too slow for my taste, too mundane. But Taylor Sheridan somehow is able to make the mundane captivating.
This was so good.
It started out sloppy though. We’re told by some father that his inmate kid is being taken advantage of. Can you do something, Mitch and Mike? One of the hardest things to do in screenwriting is talk about a character who the audience hasn’t met yet. We have no baseline for who this father is talking about because we’ve never met his son. It’s a wobbly way to begin.
Then this Vera woman shows up and starts talking about ANOTHER CHARACTER we haven’t met yet, some guy named Milo. If these characters are the ones involved in all the drama, why aren’t we meeting *them?* Why are secondary characters introducing them?
Then some crazy young drug addict is getting a lap dance. We’re talking to some local gangbanger to try and fix a problem. We’ve got two more dudes who need help with their kids in prison. It’s a cacophony of information without any context.
But the moment the second half rolls around, all these storylines start intersecting, and what was previously a golf cart putting along on its last ounce of fuel, becomes an Indy 500 race car that’s lapped everybody ten times over. I mean (**SPOILER**) when Alberto shoots Mitch, my jaw hit the floor. What the hell just happened!??? Mitch was the main character! From that moment on, Sheridan had me in the palm of his hand.
One of the things I was trying to figure out was what does Sheridan do differently? Because he’s not writing big splashy sci-fi stuff here. He doesn’t have cool set pieces. He doesn’t even have basic stuff, like car chases. Most of his stories are 2-3 people in a room talking. Like I noted yesterday, with Fast 9, people in a room talking is your enemy as a writer. So what is it that Sheridan does that others don’t?
All of his scenes seemed to be centered around a PROBLEM.
“I have a problem,” someone says. “My kid is stuck in prison and people are trying to kill him. Can you help me?” Rarely, in this pilot, is there a moment where characters are just exchanging information. Scenes die when there are no dramatic undertones. In a lot of those Fast 9 scenes of characters in a room talking, they would be explaining plot points, joking around with each other, or the mother of all writing no-no’s, recalling some event that happened in the past. There wasn’t any dramatic tension in the scenes.
Here, there always seemed to be a problem, which created an obvious desire to solve said problem, which gave the characters a goal, which gave the scene a point. Or, if there wasn’t a problem, there was an undercurrent of potential danger. For example, Vera dancing for Alberto was a scene that didn’t have a “problem.” But Sheridan highlights the anger and danger inside Alberto. We get the sense that he’s a volcano ready to blow. So the dance isn’t just a dance. It’s a prelude to something potentially terrible happening.
Scripts live or die on their scenes. So if you can come up with an operating procedure that ensures all your scenes are entertaining, you’re set. And Sheridan seems to have figured that mystery out.
Finally, there’s a subtle anti-woke approach to the writing here. Regardless of how you feel, politically, about the implementation of woke ideology into television and movies, one of the problems with it is that it’s made story points a lot more predictable. If there is a story point where either a ‘woke’ or ‘anti-woke’ development could happen, 99% of the time in 2021, the writer will choose the woke option.
Sheridan isn’t concerned about that. He just wants to tell a good story. That’s probably why I was surprised at some of things that happened in this pilot. My initial thought when they happened was, “Wait, you can’t do that! Can you??” And then I realized, I only thought you couldn’t do it because I’d gotten used to the last year’s worth of screenplays doing the exact opposite.
Mayor of Kingstown is top-grade writing. Even more impressive considering how busy Sheridan is. Check this one out!
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: (**SPOILER**) I’m a newly converted fan of the “kill off your supposed lead character in the pilot* move. Not only does it make the pilot memorable. It creates major questions moving forward for the series. One of the hardest things to do in television is make someone want to read (or watch) your next episode. Something like this creates so much uncertainty moving forward that you practically have to watch the next episode.
If it’s not in your Inbox, check your “SPAM” and “PROMOTIONS” folders!
We’ve got a good one, starting with a sneaky good show that nobody over 25 has heard of. Yet I guarantee once you start watching it, you won’t be able to stop. I give my thoughts on the current shaky state of the superhero genre. I help make sure you never rely on a deus ex machina again. I get into a couple of giant Apple TV sales and what you can learn from them. And I review the best original sci-fi spec of the year.
Oh, and one more thing. I know yesterday’s post was a bit controversial. But I stand by it. Of course there are times where you will write “two people sitting and talking” scenes. But it’s the laziest choice you can make. And if I can be that little voice in the back of your head every time you’re about to write one of these scenes that motivates you to try a little harder and come up with something else? And I can do that 2 or 3 times a script? I’ve done my job.
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FAMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIILLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!
Genre: Action
Premise: Dominic Toretto is pulled back into a life of crime one last time when he finds out that his long lost brother, Jakob, is attempting to construct a super-weapon.
About: The ninth installment of the Fast series is here! The film made 70 million dollars at the US box office this weekend, which tops the post-pandemic high of A Quiet Place 2 (50 million). These two films were obviously meant to be on a double-bill. For the first movie, you get nothing but silence and in the second movie, you get nothing but noise.
Writers: Daniel Casey, Justin Lin, story by Alfredo Botello, based on characters by Gary Scott Thompson
Details: 2 hours and 25 minutes
Something funny happened when I was figuring out where I was going to watch this movie.
Since all the theaters close by have closed down, I have to find random theaters to travel to each time I want to see a film.
Anyway, you know how you sometimes space out when you’re googling something and you’re not really thinking as you type? When I googled Fast 9 showings, I oddly received a Miriam Webster definition of the word “family.” It took me a few seconds to figure out what happened but I guess, subconsciously, in searching for Fast and Furious showings, I had inadvertently typed the word “family.”
In retrospect, I’m surprised Fast 9 doesn’t show up when you type “family.” I had a little running bet with myself on how many times the word would be used in the latest installment (my over/under guess was 100) and I lost count at 20. That was after two scenes (I’m kidding – sort of – because even though it wasn’t technically said that many times, I could tell the characters all wanted to say it that many times). My next contest should be you get to write once scene, three pages max, the only stipulation being that you have to use the word “family” in dialogue 100 times. I’m curious to see if it could be done.
In this latest installment of Fast and Furious, Dom and his wife, Letty, are living off the grid when they get a message that Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell) crashed his plane in a remote forest. That plane was transporting a special device. If Dom doesn’t retrieve it, someone bad will.
So Dom reluctantly gets the band back together and off they go. At the plane, they retrieve one half of a black crystal ball type device. No sooner do they get it than a private military force that Dom will eventually learn is run by his long-lost brother, Jakob (John Cena), start chasing them.
After Jakob gets the half crystal ball, Dom chases him, but watches in shock as Jakob launches his car off a cliff and gets snatched up, Knight Rider style, by a really cool looking stealth jet. After regrouping, the team realizes that Mr. Nobody hid the other half of the crystal ball in a vault in Edinburgh, Scotland of all places. They have to get that other half before Jakob does!
After Jakob beats them to the second piece, an Edinburgh chase sequence ensues with Dom’s team riding in a big giant super-magnet truck. They use this truck to “suck” Jakob’s car through an entire section of the city, slurping the car up and into the back of their truck.
Things are looking great for Dom’s team. They even learn that Han, the eponymous Tokyo Drift character who supposedly died a few movies ago, is back and alive!!! Unfortunately, Jakob’s team of meanies bust him out and secure both halves of the magic ball. Only then do they learn that the magic ball, code-named ‘Ares’ because of course it is, can destroy the entire planet or something. So they’ll have to do everything they can to stop Jakob, possibly even go into space!!!!
Okay, I’ll hold on while you finish laughing.
Look, at this point, Fast and Furious exists in its own universe. You either launch your weirdo spaceship into that universe or you don’t. I hung on for the ride, no pun intended, because I think it’s funny. I get just as much joy out of the moments where Dominic Torreto is about to leave a discussion for the 50th time, only to stop, turn back, wait for his close-up, and deliver a line that inevitably includes the word “family,” as I do watching rocket cars shoot into space.
But if you’re comparing F9 to other F movies, it doesn’t rank high. It’s a little too slow and I’m going to explain why. But first, let’s talk about mcguffins.
A while back someone asked me to write an article about how to write Marvel movies since the biggest movies each year were inevitably franchise films with tons of characters, the exact opposite of what I preach for spec screenwriters (which is to focus on one great protagonist).
Maybe I wrote that article, maybe not. I don’t remember. But the answer to his question is mcguffins. The mcguffin is the thing that all the characters are after. You use mcguffins because a) it keeps all your characters active (they’re all pursuing the mcguffin) and b) it streamlines character goals. If you have six characters with six different things they have to achieve, that takes forever to setup and execute. But if you give them a mcguffin, then all six of them have a goal and it only takes a couple of minutes to set up.
However, in these really big movies, what you’ll see is that one mcguffin isn’t enough. So they do this thing where they split the mcguffin into two (or more) mcguffins. This allows them to do a couple of things. They can split the characters up into several groups so they all have something to do simultaneously. We saw this with the attempts to get the infinity stones in Avengers Infinity War. But it also allows you to give your characters a “win” mid-story and still have work to do. They’re able to get one half of the mcguffin (yay!) but they still have that other one out there.
I don’t love split-up mcguffins. They always feel video-gamey to me. By that I mean the only reason they seem to be split up is because the writers wanted more flexibility with the plot. But I get it. When you have this many characters, you don’t have much of a choice. I just like when split-up mcguffins are organic. A great example is Indiana Jones. You had to get the staff *AND* the medallion. That’s so much better than clumsily hacking an object in half and, for some unknown reason, putting the two halves on different sides of the planet.
It didn’t bother me that much but for those of you thinking of incorporating this device, try your hardest to choose mcguffins that are split organically. Don’t create a key and, for no reason whatsoever, have somebody chop it up into three pieces. It’s lazy!
One of the criticisms you’re going to hear coming out of this movie is that it’s too slow. But, to be honest, I don’t know how a movie like this *can’t* be slow. When you have this many characters you’re trying to keep track of, many of them with their own journeys, it’s almost impossible to keep the plot moving.
One of the brilliant things about John Wick is that where John Wick goes, the movie goes. So you can always keep things moving. But here, you’ve got Dom trying to figure out his life, his brother trying to figure out his, you got the wives who go off on a side quest, you’ve got Han, who’s introduced back into the mix. In the case of someone like Han, you can’t just plug-and-play that plot point. You’ve got to have the “explanation” scene of how he survived the previous film’s death. And it’s not just that. You’ve got to stop everyone’s story and get them all together so that Han can explain everything to them.
Every time you have to sit your characters down and talk through current plot points, you’re slowing your script down. Which is why you always want to keep your plot and characters moving. Fast and Furious has become so bloated with characters, each of whom are now required to have their “moments,” that it’s become very hard for the story to keep any momentum at all.
But let’s be real. You’re not coming to Fast and Furious movies to whine about whether a cafe scene was necessary or not. You’re here for the action set pieces. Specifically action set pieces THAT WE CAN’T SEE ANYWHERE ELSE. So if you get that right, all else is forgiven. Did they get it right?
I’m going to point to two action highlights for me. The first occurs in that early jungle sequence where Dom’s team of cars is trying to get away from the private army’s team of cars. Tej (Ludacris) realizes that they’re about to enter an old landmine site. I thought this was a really clever idea. Basically, you take one of the most famous movie scenes ever – Han Solo trying to escape from Darth Vader by flying into an asteroid field, and bring it into a car-chase.
They didn’t stop there. They added a cool rule, which was that, taking into consideration the half-second of lag before these landmines explode and the expected blast radius, that the cars had to be going at least 80 miles an hour or else hitting a landmine would blow them up. This was not easy to do when you’re driving on grassy lumpy terrain. Also, Roman (Tyrese Gibson) is driving a large armored car that only goes up to 70 mph. So he’s just going to have to hope that he doesn’t hit any landmines. This whole sequence was clever.
Another set piece I liked was the one in Edinburgh. Due to the chaos of the situation, Ramsey, their computer expert, is forced to drive. There’s only one problem: SHE CAN’T DRIVE. She never even got her license. But they have to stop Jakob and she’s the only one near a car right now. This is a great way to take a basic setup and make it fresh. If Dom is driving this car, it’s one of 100 Fast and Furious Dom car chase scenes. We’ve seen it already. With Ramsey, it’s a completely new experience. She’s a disaster at the wheel but she’s their only shot so she does her best. It added a fun spin to a mid-movie set piece.
With that said, something was missing here. Movies are weird. Each one of them has a certain energy to it. And when a movie is really cooking, it’s usually because everyone’s on that same elevated wavelength. We’ve seen that in this franchise before. Fast 7, with James Wan directing, had that special extra gear to all the action. But everybody here looked a little bored. Which I suppose is one of the challenges of trying to draw a franchise out this long. Inevitably, you get to a point where it’s hard to get excited that you’re doing yet another version of what you’ve already done.
It was still fun going back to the movies. So I had a good time. But they need something more than John Cena to jolt this franchise for the next film. John Cena was fine. But I think we all know where Fast and Furious needs to go to keep this franchise on top. And that is Mars.
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I really really really really really believe you should think twice about putting any characters in chairs talking to each other in an action movie. Some of you might say, “you have to slow down sometimes,” and that’s true. But there are other ways to do it. Say Ramsey and Tej have to infiltrate an upscale party to find a villain. You might put them on the dance floor together while they covertly scan the party to see if their villain is present. During that time, you can also include some exposition. You can give the audience a “slow” moment and still keep some tension to the scene as well as keep the momentum of the story going.
Today we review the winner of Comedy Showdown. Plus a little surprise announcement!
Genre: Comedy
Premise: On the last day of high school, two overlooked seniors execute a series of pranks to get their principal fired, while he does everything in his power to catch them and keep them from graduating.
Why You Should Read: It’s a throwback to all those 80’s comedies you know and love but updated for a 2021 audience. In a mash-up logline, it’s Ferris Bueller by way of The Fugitive. Or in a modern-take, it’s Booksmart meets Neighbors — a competition comedy that plays out like a boxing match, round for round with set pieces and surprises galore. All of which I wrote around two likable female leads — true underdogs facing off against their principal in a role that’s written for your favorite middle-aged comedy STAR. This isn’t just a script… this is a MOVIE. A movie I loved writing, and I think it shows. Above all other genres, I love comedies — but I also love action movies – so I wrote a comedy inspired by the structure of a fast-paced action movie – utilizing all that urgency and structuring pranks like set pieces. I also love the coming-of-age high school sub-genre – films that capture incredible characters in that unique time in their lives when they’re old enough to get themselves in a lot of trouble and afraid that everything in their lives is going to change. Senior Prank was a love letter to those movies, one that hopes to thrill and entertain you from page 1 until the very last line.
Writer:Freddie Farid
Details: 114 pages
First of all, thanks to everyone who submitted to Comedy Showdown. I know how frustrating it must have been to practice your ass off for an entire three months then not even get a chance to race. But one of the ancillary benefits of these showdowns is that you now have a script. Go do something with it! Hollywood is your oyster.
When it came to Senior Trip, I was excited that it won. I liked what the writer did with the first couple of scenes. We’re introduced to this senior punk as our prank king, thinking he’s going to lead our story, only to realize, a couple of scenes later, when he’s all grown up and taken the principal job at his old high school, that he’s actually going to be the villain. That was a nice reversal. Let’s see how the rest of the script turned out.
OH! And about that surprise. I will be reviewing the TOP TWO scripts from every showdown going forward. Not just the winner, but second place. That’s right! Next week, I’ll be reviewing “Two In The Pink.” Yay!
Sean Beckett Riley used to be the most popular kid at school. Now, at 50, he’s the principal of the school. Which means he’s popular in a different way. As in a “all the students hate him” kind of way. But Principal Riley is okay with that. He’s a couple of days away from the superintendent granting him tenure. Then he can sit around and do nothing for the rest of his life.
Enter senior female best friends Alex (Batman) and Sadie (Robin). Alex and Sadie are “four likes on Instagram a month” kind of popular. As in, not popular at all. But that’s okay. Because all they want to do is have the best senior prom ever. Which ends up being a very “personal” experience since all the boys reject them and they end up going with each other.
Then, just as they show up, Principal Riley kicks them out for a minor school infraction. Furious, the two decide to ruin Riley’s life. They’re going to get him fired. And they only have one final day at school to do it!
That night, they mow “Fuck You Riley” into the football field grass and put a driver’s ed car on the top of the school. When the superintendent shows up to give Riley his final interview for tenure, he sees these things, and demands that Riley get to the bottom of it or else he can’t grant him tenure.
So Riley goes on a mission to find the pranksters, determined to bring them down. As the evidence starts to come in and it all points towards Alex and Sadie, they realize that if Riley figures them out before they can get him fired, they won’t just get a slap on the wrist, they’ll lose their college scholarships, their standing in society, their ENTIRE FUTURES. Which means: GAME ON. May the best man… err… or girls, win!
Senior Prank was a script I went back and forth on. I’d be laughing my ass off one scene then I wouldn’t be laughing at all the next one. I began to realize that Farid was really good in the area of comedic description, but not as sharp with comedic dialogue. Let me give you a couple of examples.
This opening scene with Riley was great. Riley is a 50 year old drunk man who’s just crashed his car into a tree at 5 miles per hour. A cop pulls up behind him.
I love the little detail of the window coming down a crack, then back up, down…up, down-up. I can totally imagine that moment on the screen, with the sound effects of the window motor, leaning into the pauses between each “whirrrrr.”
The window finally rolling down all the way… to reveal a middle finger. A tumbler of scotch coming out the window from a disembodied hand. The officer receiving it like, “What the f$%#?” Then a second disembodied glass reaching out, clinking it. All of that was really funny.
However, a page later, we get a dialogue scene back at the station. It starts out fun, with the Chief recognizing Riley from high school and being smitten that he remembers him. We then get the following…
Let me be clear. I don’t dislike this dialogue. But none of it stands out. Riley pretending that he wasn’t at fault is somewhat of an expected comedy choice. Then, when Riley goes on the offensive, it feels a bit much. I read comedy dialogue like this ALL THE TIME. If you want to be a comedy writer, you have to be edgier, weirder, or unexpected with your dialogue choices. You can’t just do what everybody else does.
With that said, I did laugh out loud a handful of times. There’s this moment deep in the script where Riley’s clueless secretary brings him a cake celebrating the end of the school year, he slices into it, and there’s a dye pack inside that blows up all over Riley and the room. Riley demands to know who sent the cake. His secretary frantically, and cluelessly, explains that, “Uh, the cake was from… a uh… Señor Prank… Spanish fellow.”
The idea of this woman not realizing that “Senor Prank” was a prank had me in a giggling fit for several minutes.
But, like a lot of amateur comedy scripts, there were too many times where I was taken out of the story. The most obvious example is tenure. You don’t get tenure in high school. You certainly don’t get it as a principal. And since that’s Riley entire motivation, it was a failing grade on the script’s report card (I googled this to make sure – if it’s not true, I’m sorry).
This is a common mistake I see where comedy writers are under the impression that as long as they’re funny, the rest of the script can be sloppy. While it’s true that ‘funny’ is the ultimate decider, that other stuff has to be on lock to the point where it’s invisible, to the point where we don’t question it.
I mean, there was also a teacher at the school who went by “Professor.” So now I’m really confused. Are we in high school? College? Some combination of the two?
Yet another issue was that I couldn’t figure Riley out. To me, it should’ve been simple. Riley used to be popular, now he’s this miserable washed up principal who hates his life and gets stuck in this prank war with these high school kids.
Instead, Riley is both washed-up but also the women still love him (as we’re told early on at a bake sale). He both hates his job but he’s desperate to keep it. It’s confusing.
I see this a lot. You have this idea of what you want a character to be – in this case a washed up miserable principal. But then realize if he’s got nothing to fight for then why would he care if he lost his job or not? So you alter him so that he’s still kinda miserable yet part of him really loves his job, which is why he wants to keep it. And just like that you’ve created a character that makes no sense.
I get it. You need your antagonist to be motivated. But you have to pick a lane and stay in it. You can’t straddle the fence.
Finally, the main reason I couldn’t personally do anything with this script is because it’s way too similar to Booksmart, which was considered a failure. It got good reviews but the studio was hoping for a way bigger box office take than the movie ended up getting. So now you’re saying you’ve got the next version of a movie that didn’t do very well. Buyers don’t get excited about that.
I’m thinking the pendulum is swinging back to the middle here. Just make the main characters dudes. Or, if you still want to be original, one girl, one guy.
Senior Prank has the makings of a movie somewhere within its DNA. But right now, it’s too messy and it hasn’t yet capitalized on its concept. This feels like a script that needs to be put through the ringer. Bring in some other funny people to bounce jokes off of. Dialogue needs to be sharper, cleverer.
Script Link: Senior Prank
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I’m a big fan of seeing characters ACT. So, if they’re going to do something, let’s see them do it. This entire plot was built around the aftermath of them ACTING. They did the big pranks the night before (which we didn’t see) and then spent the day REACTING to the principal trying to connect them to the pranks. Something tells me it would’ve been more fun to actually watch them pull the pranks in real time. — (I know that this is the way The Hangover did it but that was different because it was the entire premise of the movie – you had the craziest night ever but couldn’t remember a thing about it).
One of the struggles of being a screenwriter is trying to decode the matrix that is the feature length screenplay. If you could master all the individual pieces and put them together like so, you’d be living the dream – making a living off screenwriting. But decoding the matrix is a lot harder than it looks on the surface. There are an untold number of variables that need to come together in just the right way for a screenplay to work.
One of things I’ve found helpful is identifying what your CORE SCREENWRITING PHILOSOPHY is. What this allows you to do is measure any script you’ve written against that philosophy to see where you’re making mistakes. If your philosophy is A, B, and C and your script is B H and Q, you know you have to replace H and Q with A and C.
Conversely, if you’re just winging it – if you’re just making up new rules with every screenplay you write – you can expect a lot of failure because you’re always in uncharted territory. So what I thought I’d do today is share my screenwriting philosophy. Ironically, I didn’t have this philosophy as a writer. I formulated it once I started consulting because I realized that 90% of writers were making the same mistakes. Namely, they were making their screenplays way too complicated in one area or another.
So what is my philosophy?
Simple story, complex characters.
Yeah yeah, I know. Not revolutionary. I believe this is Pixar’s philosophy and a few other screenwriting professors out there. But I adopted it because it works.
Let’s talk about this in more detail. What do I mean by “simple story?” A simple story is a story with an easy-to-follow plot. Some movies that you may be familiar with that follow this formula: A Quiet Place, Nobody, 1917, The Invisible Man, Parasite, Uncut Gems, Aliens, Good Boys, Lion.
In every single one of these films, a clear story is laid out. A Quiet Place – survive an onslaught of aliens. Nobody – take out a drug lord. 1917 – deliver a message. The Invisible Man – survive, and ultimately defeat, the ghost of a dead husband. Parasite – a poor family tries to take over a rich family’s home. Uncut Gems – A man has to make enough money on betting in a single day to pay off his debtors. Aliens – Go and kill all the aliens. Good Boys – Retrieve an expensive drone. Lion – A grown man tries to find his parents.
We are never confused about anything that’s happening in these stories because they KEEP THEIR PLOTS SIMPLE. Now let’s look at a few films that didn’t follow this rule: Tenet, Cloud Atlas, Glass, Ready Player One, Wonder Woman 1984, Alien Covenant. Note how all of these films fell apart halfway through their viewing, if not sooner, for believing that MORE STORY COMPLEXITY was better.
What was driving the story in Cloud Atlas? Who knows? There were too many characters and too many timelines to keep track of. What was going on in Tenet? I don’t know. There were a thousand different rules, many of which seemed to contradict each other. The script also had too many “guy behind the guy behind the guy” moments. Glass? There was literally no point to that movie other than to see three people with “sort-of” powers being kept in a mental ward. Ready Player One – More like Ready Player What The Hell Is Going On There’s Way Too Much Plot In This Movie. Wonder Woman 1984 – We don’t even have to get to how disastrous the plot was with WW1984 as it couldn’t even decide what genre it was (Romantic Comedy? Action Superhero?). Alien Covenant – Probably the best example since you can compare it to one of the best action sci-fi films ever, Aliens. Aliens = go kill the aliens. Alien Covenant = Go to a planet, look for source of distress call, find a few aliens, learn there used to be a civilization here, a robot meets a version of himself, they hang out, the people try to figure out whether to leave or stay?
Simple story, guys. Adapt that mindset and it’s going to make your screenwriting life A WHOLE LOT EASIER.
On to the second half of the equation – complex characters.
Why does the story have to be simple but the characters complex? Why not the other way around? Because there’s nothing more frustrating than watching a film where you don’t know what’s going on. You don’t have to worry about that as much on the character end. Sure, you can overload a character to the point where we lose our feel for them. But audiences like characters who have depth, who are interesting, who are dynamic.
Which brings us to “what is a complex character?”
A complex character is any character that is experiencing conflict both internally and externally. The external part is a given. That’s what the movie is for – to put a bunch of stress on your hero (aliens trying to kill Ripley, for example). But you can add more than just concept conflict. You can add conflict from other characters.
In a lot of movies, you’ll see broken family relationships as an issue. An absent father. A married couple who separates. Sibling rivalry. A deceased family member. Any element of external stress you place on your character makes them more “complex.” Peter Quill (Guardians of the Galaxy) lost his mother. That loss defines almost everything about him. This is even more true for one of the most famous characters of all time, Bruce Wayne. The loss of a parents birthed one of the most powerful characters ever.
The trick with broken family relationships is that there has to be some authenticity to the way you write them. If all you’re doing is creating a “daddy didn’t hug me enough” character because people like me told you to, it won’t work. You need to dig into your own life and expose some of your own family experiences to make that feel honest. And if you didn’t have those experiences yourself, draw on your friends’ experiences. If you just try to make it up out of whole cloth, it won’t work.
Once you’ve got the external taken care of, you want to move to the internal. This is an area where a lot of writers get it wrong because it can be confusing. Some people say give your character a fatal flaw. Others say give your character some “inner conflict.” Others say give your character a “vice,” like alcohol or sex addiction. A lot of writers don’t know the difference between these things and they don’t know if you’re only supposed to use one, two, or all of them.
Here’s the way I look at it. Your character should be going through at least one INTERNAL STRUGGLE. That struggle can be a flaw. That struggle can be some sort of inner conflict. That struggle can be addiction. Take your pick. The important thing is that there is a struggle. Because struggle tends to be the thing that makes characters interesting.
One of the reasons Michael Corleone (The Godfather) is considered one of the best characters ever is because his internal struggle is so intense. Does he continue to live a good honest life or does he submit to a life of crime in the family business? More recently, you have a character like Wade Wilson (Deadpool). His internal struggle is the inability to be with the woman he loves because he looks like a monster. That’s the baggage he carries throughout that story (and the baggage he eventually overcomes).
You can go with traditional fatal flaws as well. A flaw is just an internal belief system that is holding your character back in life. A “fear that you are not enough” is a flaw. Being stubborn is a flaw. Being too prideful is a flaw. Thinking that the world is against you is a flaw. Always putting yourself before others (selfishness) is a flaw. Always putting others before yourself (selflessness) is a flaw. Keep in mind movies are about taking these internal belief systems (or flaws) to the extreme. It’s okay to put yourself first. But if you’re doing it to the point where it’s destroyed all of the relationships in your life, then it’s a serious flaw that needs fixing.
What happens when you have too simple of a character? Go watch Dunkirk. A technical masterpiece. But do you feel anything during that movie? Very little. Because there was zero complexity to any of the characters.
I’m already anticipating that some of you are going to bring up films like Avengers. Or Fast and Furious. Or Star Wars. “Those stories,” you will say, “are anything but simple. So why do they get passes?” I agree with this assessment to a point. With so many characters to keep track of, it’s impossible for the story not to get complex. However, here’s the thing that those movies do that keep them on track. They tell you the goal IN BIG BRIGHT LIGHTS. And then, fifteen minutes later THEY TELL YOU AGAIN. Fifteen minutes later, THEY REMIND YOU OF THE GOAL. Fifteen minutes later, HEY! REMEMBER THE GOAL! HERE IT IS AGAIN!!!” In other words, they know their story is complex so they go out of their way to remind you what’s going on. And they often choose plot points that are easy to understand. For all the craziness going on the final two Avengers movies, we’re never lost because the goal – STOP THANOS!!!!!! – is so clear. So if you are writing a movie that has some intricate plotting, keep that in mind. You want to keep reminding the reader what the point is.
As I wrap this up, I’ll remind you that this is my screenwriting philosophy. It doesn’t have to be yours. But you should have one. Or you should be in the process of figuring out what your philosophy is. That way, whenever one of your scripts goes haywire, you’ll know how to get it back on track.
So I ask you, what’s your screenwriting philosophy?
