One of the things I’ve always tried to convey to you guys is that screenwriting is NOT about writing. It’s about storytelling. This can be confusing and a little frustrating and has actually caused quite a few arguments in the past. Because I don’t want to go into some long explanation of the difference between the two, I’ll give you an example of each.

Example 1:
The placid grey sky beats down on Carly, a former social outcast turned flower child. She drags her last cigarette out of a dirty box stuck between the car seats and lights it with an immediacy that belies an obsession with her addiction.

Example 2:
Carly taps the wheel of her car nervously. She checks her side-view mirror. A cop is getting out of his car. She’s been pulled over. She takes a deep breath and sucks down a cigarette. She checks the passenger seat. A newspaper lies there. She slides it forward, revealing a GUN. She checks the side-view mirror again. The cop is coming towards her. She glances at the gun again, her mind racing. Another drag of the cigarette. With the cop only a second away, she GRABS THE GUN, and hides it under her shirt.

Do you notice the difference? In the first example, or the “writing” example, there’s nothing happening other than the writer talking about the character and the setting. In the second example, there’s an actual STORY. Someone’s in trouble. They have to make a choice. There’s an element of suspense. That is STORYTELLING.

The sooner the screenwriter understands the difference between these two things (I’ve found it takes most writers 3-5 scripts to get there), and adapts the storyteller method, the sooner they start writing good scripts.

Now this doesn’t mean you’ll never take a moment to describe a scene or introduce us to a key character. Of course you’ll need to do this. But the “writer” always makes his/her words the star, as opposed to looking for ways to create mystery or build suspense. And that’s where they get into trouble.

Despite this, I realize that storytelling cannot exist without writing. You cannot convey character actions and plot without putting words on the page. And so which words you choose and how you string those words together matters. What I’d like to do today is give you a road map for showcasing your writing in a way that supports your story.

I call this CINEMATIC WRITING. Cinematic writing is writing that makes your screenplay feel like a movie. The goal here is to eliminate the “novelistic” writing approach, where you’re basically just showing off, and make your words work for your script.

Cinematic Writing comes in three flavors.

1) Show don’t tell.
2) Visual cues.
3) Supplementation.

SHOW DON’T TELL
The first one should be obvious. Yet time and time again, I see writers fail to do it. But this is one of the easiest ways to make your writing cinematic – by conveying your story in actions as opposed to dialogue. And it really kicks ass when you do it well. There’s something about an action that hits the reader harder than a line. The trick to adopting this method is to simply ask, in every instance of your script where dialogue is spoken, “Can I convey this moment visually instead?” In the opening scene of “It Follows,” for example, we see a seemingly crazy girl running from something in the middle of her suburban neighborhood, despite the fact that nothing is there. It’s a purely visual scene that sets up an intriguing mystery. I’d much rather see that than have two people discussing the act. Now, of course, sometimes dialogue is necessary (and even preferable) when writing a scene, but if you want your script to contain that cinematic flourish that convinces the reader they’re reading a MOVIE, you need a lot of showing (and less telling!).

VISUAL CUEING
Let’s say you’re writing a scene that has a couple arguing in an apartment. How do you write that scene? Chances are, you’ll describe the apartment, the characters, and then go into basic back-and-forth dialogue between them. In other words, the most UN-CINEMATIC representation of the scene you could possibly write. When you visually cue, you look for visual ways to creatively explore the scene cinematically. For example, instead of the basic “two-character-talk” scenario, maybe the scene starts on a photograph taped to a refrigerator. It’s of our couple, at a baseball game, looking as happy as any couple you’ve ever seen. In the meantime, we hear (but do not see) an argument in the background. We slowly back away from the fridge, where we see more happy photos of the couple, and continue to hear the argument in the background. We move along the floor, where we see a scared dog staring up at his screaming owners, and finally end up on the couple, as they’re ending their argument. Do you see how much more cinematic this second option is? The trick to visually cueing is to imagine you’re the director. Find interesting places to put the camera. Take note that you don’t want to write camera directions into your script. But you want to think in terms of camera placement. By doing so, you open yourself up to way more visually creative scenes.

SUPPLEMENTATION
Fancy writing on its own is useless. As I pointed out in the opening example, who the hell cares how visually Carly smokes a cigarette? To avoid this, make your fancy writing a tool to supplement the action on the page. For example, if you write three paragraphs on how beautiful the mountain our main character is climbing is, we could give two shits. HOWEVER, if that same character is in danger? If he’s stuck on a mountain ledge and his next few moves will determine whether he lives or dies? Now you can start describing the mountain around him in detail and we’ll be riveted. Why? BECAUSE NOW THE DETAILS MATTER. They directly influence the fate of our hero. This is supplementation. It’s using expressive prose to supplement important story beats. I’m reminded of one my favorite scripts of the year, February, when a character is creeping through a room because she’s heard a noise. The writer covers every little sound and movement in extreme detail. But it works. Why? Because the character is in potential danger. We get the sense that something bad is nearby. Therefore, the details pull us in. Had the writer tried to describe the room in that kind of detail BEFORE our character was in danger? It would’ve been boring-sauce.

The main idea I want to convey here is that your writing should never be the star of your screenplay. Writing is a tool that should be used to support the storytelling. I’m yet to hear a producer say, “I hated that story but man, that script was really well-written. Let’s buy it.” It just doesn’t happen. By transitioning your novelistic writing approach to a cinematic one, you’re allowing your words to work for you as opposed to against you. So get in there and start writing movies as opposed to glorified writing exercises. I promise you a more positive response from readers. Good luck!

Genre: Drama/Satire/Comedy?
Premise: A washed up political strategist becomes the campaign manager for a soulless presidential candidate in Bolivia.
About: “Our Brand is Crisis” is Sandra Bullock’s attempt to add another Oscar to her mantel. The script is based on a documentary that chronicled a Bolivian election, although I don’t know how close to real life they’re playing it since our main character in the documentary as well as in this draft of the script, Bill Bodine, has been changed to a woman (now being played by Sandra Bullock). The project has some major firepower behind it. The producers of Argo. And Bullock’s bestie, George Clooney, is pitching in with his partner, Grant Heslov, to help produce. The script made the 2008 Black List with 22 mentions, somehow beating out Inglorious Basterds (I’d like to see the voting behind that political process). Writer Peter Straughan is highly regarded amongst actors. He got Clooney to star in The Men Who Stare at Goats, Michael Fassbender to star in Frank, Gary Oldman to star in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, and now Bullock to star in this.
Writer: Peter Straughan
Details: 126 pages (this is the draft that made the Black List in 2008)

Despite a ton of strong buzz and making the Black List, I’ve avoided “Our Brand is Crisis” like Bolivian street meat. For those not aware, screenplays lose 60% of their entertainment value the second you write “Bolivia” into the margins.

The only redeeming factor here is that they somehow got Sandra Bullock to sacrifice her self-respect and commit to this role. I LOVE me some Sandra Bullock. She’s one of the only movie stars on the planet who embraces her flaws, which is the secret to her longevity.

But that actually makes me question this movie even more. If they had to change the sex of the main character so they could cast one of the most likable actresses on the planet, what does that say about their confidence in the material?

“Crisis” introduces us to Pedro Gallo, the president of Bolivia, as he prepares for his re-election. Despite being the incumbent, Gallo is a million points behind his opponent because he’s a ruthless dictator who has a few rough spots on his resume – such as the time he murdered a bunch of his people.

In comes Bill Bodine to save the day (this is Sandra Bullock’s character before the gender-change rewrite). Bodine was a once kind-of successful campaign manager until his nemesis, Pat Candy, destroyed him in a small-town Texas mayoral campaign. Since then he’s been drifting through life.

Why he’s even in Bolivia to run Gallo’s campaign, then, is one of the many mysteries of the script. He doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t appear to need the job. His team members are smarter and seem to care more about winning than him. Uh, why is this guy in our movie again?

Eventually, Bodine decides to give a shit about the campaign (nothing brings this on – he just feels like it one day), and is spurred on when he finds out that good old Pat Candy is advising Gallo’s opposition. Finally, a chance to defeat the man who ruined his life!

Bodine opines that the only time people vote bad leaders into office is when the country is going through a crisis. Since their client is a horrible person, all they need to do is find a crisis to put the country in, then everyone will vote Gallo president.

Sticking with the theme of bad storytelling and lack of clarity, it’s never made clear what the actual crisis they come up with is. But why explain a component so critical to the story that it’s in the title when you can instead drag us through one of the most rudimentary political campaigns in history? I’ll let you answer that.

Have you ever been on a date where you order coke and your date orders coffee? Where you order steak and your date orders salad? Where you wanna talk about music but your date wants to talk politics? Where every time you laugh, your date is stone-faced, and vice-versa? Where you and your date seem to be diametrically opposed to every single topic of conversation on the face of the planet?

That’s how I feel when I read Peter Straughan. I didn’t know Straughan had written this but had I, I never would’ve opened it. I just don’t see eye-to-eye with this man. The Men Who Stare at Goats is one of the worst scripts I’ve ever read. And “Frank” represents everything wrong with indie movies (all quirk and zero bite). Even Straughan’s best offering, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, I found both boring and tedious.

So it should be no surprise that I absolutely despised this. And look, I’m well aware of the fact that when you’re not into something, you pick it apart. So you’ll have to take this review with a grain of salt. But, I mean, come on. The guy practically handed me the shaker.

Let’s start with Bill Bodine. We spend the first 25 pages watching this guy stare at walls and ceilings. Why? WE HAVE NO IDEA. Pages and pages go by where Bill refuses to come out of his hotel room. And there’s no indication as to what’s causing this. Not even a hint!

It’s not only boring, but FRUSTRATING! As a reader, when a character is acting in any sort of extreme manner, you’d like to have an idea of why. Or else the character becomes a big ball of confusion. Sure, there are times where you want to keep some information (the character’s backstory) from the reader. But we go 60 pages before we learn anything about why this dude is acting like such a putz. I was pulling my hair out.

And because of this, I grew to hate Bill Bodine. I mean, when have you ever liked a character who mopes around, feels sorry for himself, is inactive, and is pathetic? Nobody likes that person. Ever. So even when Bodine started acting like a normal person (70 pages into the script), I’d already formed my opinion. He hadn’t given me a single reason to root for him (it’s making more and more sense why they cast Sandra Bullock).

When we finally do learn what drove Bodine crazy (losing to his rival, Pat Candy, in a tiny mayoral election in Texas 15 years ago), we’re again stuck throwing our hands in the air. THIS IS HIS BIG SECRET??? He lost an election as a young campaign manager in a tiny Texas town forever ago???? I’m sorry but this makes the character even MORE pathetic.

Then there’s Pat Candy, Bodine’s “rival.” Candy is supposed to represent success, the “winner” who’s gone on to become everything Bill Bodine hasn’t. Well pardon me for asking, but if that’s the case, WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING SLUMMING IT UP AS A CAMPAIGN MANAGER IN BOLIVIA??? He obviously can’t be that successful. Which was just one of many WTF moments I had reading this.

As if that wasn’t perplexing enough, the election storyline devolves into the cliché, “Do we run a negative campaign or not” debate. I mean, the one unique thing you have going for you with this idea is that it’s set in a third-world nation. This gives you the opportunity to explore aspects of a campaign that you’d never be able to if this were set in America.

Instead, we get “Should we go negative with the ads?” which is a trope we’ve seen used in every single one of these movies ever. If you’re not going to exploit the most unique aspect of your premise, why not just move the election to America where the story will be more relatable and draw a bigger audience?

I mean you’re representing a man who has murdered his own people. This is supposed to be a comedy (I think). So why not have fun with that? Why not show them trying to spin that? Yet that’s another problem with this script. It kind of wants to be a comedy but it’s afraid to commit. And you can see this in the trailer. It wants to be taken seriously enough to be called a “satire.” But it still wants those goofy Sandra Bullock moments (or scenes where llamas blow up). It can’t make up its mind.

And I will tell you this right now. If a script is ever unsure of what it wants to be, it’s a dead script. Because, as the writer, you’ll be dancing around the entire screenplay, trying to walk that line, and it ALWAYS shows up in the finished product. The readers and the audience always pick up on it.

I’m going to turn to you guys now. Does this movie appeal to you at all? If so, why? What is it that I’m missing? Because all I see is…

a) Extremely boring subject matter (politics).
b) A film set in the most boring country I can think of.
c) A film unsure of its own tone.
d) A lack of a hook.
e) A script afraid to exploit its concept.

If this movie has a chance, it’s Sandra Bullock. That’s it. Her face and the trust her audience has in her that she won’t lead them down a rotten path. But I don’t think even she can save this. I wish I could latch onto something here to finish on a positive note but I’m struggling, guys. Maybe the documentary was good? Go check that out? But do me a favor and don’t tell me about it. I’d like this review to be the last time I ever hear about Our Brand is Crisis.

[x] what the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: I think it’s okay to keep the backstory for your SECONDARY CHARACTERS a secret for an extended period of time (Abraham from the great script, The Brigands of Rattleborge, comes to mind). But I don’t think you can do that with your main character. There are a few exceptions, of course. But, generally speaking, the audience wants to know their hero. The hero is the one taking them on this journey. So if they’re a bottomless pit of mystery boxes for 60 pages, the audience is going to get frustrated and turn on them. That’s what happened to me here with Bill Bodine. I wanted to know why the hell this guy was acting so bizarre, but it took Straughan forever to tell me. I lost interest in the meantime.

Genre: Horror/Slasher
Premise: Years after a girl’s actress mother dies in an accident, the girl and her friends are transported into an 80s slasher movie in which her mother was one of the stars.
About: This script has always had some buzz going for it, and now that the film’s in the can, that buzz is only growing. You like how I’m using hip Hollywood lingo today? “In the can.” I keep that up and you guys will probably put me in my own slasher movie. Where all of you are the killers. The Final Girls is co-written by Joshua John Miller, whose inspiration probably came from the fact that he starred in an 80s horror film himself (the 1987 film, Near Dark, directed by Kathryn Bigelow). Miller’s younger co-writer is M.A. Fortin, who appears to be in charge of helping Miller understand what kids do and say today. Fortin gained recent recognition by writing the Rose McGowan directed short film, “Dawn,” which you can watch here.
Writers: Joshua John Miller & M.A. Fortin
Details: 107 pages (Revised draft – February 25th, 2011)

I really loved last week. Not just because I got some time off, but because you guys really picked up the slack. It was one of the best commenting weeks in the site’s history. I especially loved all the movie suggestions on Friday. I was able to squeeze a few of your suggestions in and I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

Compliance, in particular, got me revved up. What the hell! I can’t believe this actually happened! Watching the real life interview afterwards and the manager saying she never saw that the girl was naked with her boyfriend as the interviewer WAS POINTING OUT THE FOOTAGE showing her walking past the girl when she was naked with her boyfriend… I was furious. I don’t know if everyone will like this movie but I guarantee you this. You won’t walk away from it without having a response.

Can the same be said for The Final Girls? Different type of movie entirely. But maybe a more rewarding experience in the end.

14 year-old Maxine “Max” Cartwright waits in the car as her aging actress mother, Amanda, emerges from another failed audition. Amanda, it turns out, is one of those actresses who’s only been able to nab “the hot girl who gets killed in B-horror movies” role. And now, with her beauty fading, there aren’t many of those roles left.

In fact, there aren’t going to be any. Because on the drive home from the audition, their car skids off the road, crashes, and Amanda dies.

Cut to 3 years later and Max is now a senior in high school sporting the kind of style girls who lost their moms sport (aka: combat boots, nose rings, black clothing). Her lifelines are her geeky best friend Gertie, her once-sorta-crush, Chris, her “m’lady” horror obsessed pal, Duncan, and her once best friend now turned frenemy, Vicki.

While Max tends to avoid all social encounters if possible, Duncan convinces her to come to his screening of Camp Bloodbath, an 80s horror flick that her mom starred in.

The whole crew arrives, the movie starts, and Max is actually having a good time. That is until someone accidentally starts a fire that sweeps through the theater. In a mad dash to escape, Max and her friends cut through the movie screen, only to pass out and wake up… in the woods.

When an old hippie van passes and Max’s mom sticks her head out asking where Camp Bluebird is, the group realizes the impossible. They’re inside the movie they were watching! And shockingly, for Max, she’s face to face with her mother again! Or, at least, the character her mother is playing, Tina.

After the group accepts this craziness, they realize that the only way out of the movie is to wait for Hatchet Face (our killer) to be killed by the movie’s lone virgin, Paula. But when the group accidentally kills Paula, that leaves Max and Tina as the lone virgins, and therefore the only two who can kill Hatchet Face and get them back to reality!

These types of scripts almost always catch peoples’ attention. The idea of being caught in a movie allows you to play with conventions, with genre, with stereotypes. The possibilities are endless. It’s the reason why Last Action Hero was one of the most famous script sales ever.

But where Last Action Hero failed to exploit its concept, The Final Girls uses its razor-sharp machete to exploit every angle possible. But its biggest achievement? It made the journey PERSONAL.

What do I mean by that? Whenever you come up with a cool concept – heck, whenever you come up with ANY idea – you have a choice. You can execute only the idea. Or you can find a way to add a PERSONAL SLANT to it so that you’re exploring your characters as well as the plot.

Miller and Fortin made the genius choice to not only send our characters inside a horror movie. But send them into a movie where our heroine’s dead mother is playing one of the parts. All of a sudden, a fun little slasher movie becomes a lot more.

They did the same thing with Back to the Future. Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis could’ve easily sent Marty McFly into a generic past and focused solely on the plot to get him back home. But they made that movie a character-exploration haven by adding the parents. Marty had to get his parents to fall in love or cease to exist forever. That’s what I mean by adding a “personal” component. Something PERSONAL should be on the line for your protagonist.

Truth be told, I would’ve been through with The Final Girls by page 45 if it weren’t for the personal component. Instead, I was asking, “How is Max going to tell Tina that she’s her mom? How is Tina going to react? Can Max get closure from a woman who’s not technically her mom? Is Max going to be able to take her mom with her?” I was really invested in that relationship, which was the key to the script keeping my attention for 110 pages.

Outside of that clever inclusion, the script was good but not great. I liked that as soon as the characters realized they were in a movie, they formulated a plan (the GOAL). Lesser writers would’ve had our heroes randomly picked off one by one until the movie was over – no shape or form needed. But as you Scriptshadow Readers know, you never want to leave your main characters in a reactionary or passive state. They should always be STRIVING FOR SOMETHING.

That keeps them active, which keeps the story energized. So the group lays out a plan (kill Hatchet Face to get back to the real world) and now we can watch to see if they succeed.

The only knock against the script was the terrible writing style. It was too thick for a slasher script and had way too much affected writing. Here’s a small sample of what the script read like.

But beyond that, this was so much better than your average generic slasher script. It showed a willingness to try something different, to have fun, to be creative. And these are things readers don’t see enough of. Which made The Final Girls a welcome surprise.

[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: If all you do is execute your concept, even if it’s a great concept, readers will usually tune out on page 45 (that’s 15-20 pages into the second act). The concept is what gets the reader in the door keeps them invested through the first act. Once you achieve that, you have to find the PERSONAL ANGLE that’s going to make the reader give a shit about your main characters and what they do. The Final Girls is a great example of a script that found the perfect personal angle (what if you were sent to a place where you got a chance to reconnect with your dead mother, albeit in an altered state?). That’s what elevated the script above your typical slasher fare.

This might be my last post until Tuesday (day after Labor Day). I thought we’d finish up Vacation Week with a good old fashioned “Unknown Movies Referral Thread.” It’s a 3-day weekend. Help your fellow Scriptshadow brethren experience a new film by suggesting a little known favorite of yours. If you can suggest a great movie that I’ve never heard of, I will personally send you Scriptshadow Brownies. So… waddaya got!!?? (my recommendation is up above)

So yesterday was interesting. I gave you four trailers and asked which ones you’d go to the theater and pay for. The clear winner was The Martian, the biggest piece of Intellectual Property on the list. The reason I find this interesting is because screenwriters are always complaining about the lack of original ideas available at the cinema and how studios keep adapting material from other mediums. Which is what The Martian is.

Therefore, today’s question is this. And I want you to think hard about it because, if you’re paying attention, your answer should inform you what kind of script to work on. What is a spec movie idea that you’d actually go out and pay to see? Or, if that’s too general, what kind of movies are they not making at the moment, that you would DEFINITELY pay 12-15 bucks for? If you can answer that question, and a lot of people agree with you (with upvotes), you should bust open Final Draft and start writing.