Disclaimer: I did NOT see all of A Good Day To Die Hard. I found it to be so terrible that I walked out 45 minutes through. I have no idea (but will gladly assume) what the final 50 minutes were like.

Genre: Action
Premise: Errr… a former NYPD cop goes looking for his estranged son in Moscow and stumbles onto a complex plot involving weapons grade uranium…or something.
About: Skip Woods has written a lot of mediocre action flicks that are, surprisingly (or I guess not surprisingly) almost exactly alike. Which movies, you ask? How about I offer you Swordfish, Hitman, X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and The A-Team. If you’re looking for subtlety, depth, cohesive plot, a narrative, words that make sense, then you’re probably not looking for these flicks. Which I guess makes sense. Woods’ background leads one to believe he’s more interested in ‘splosions than any sort of plot or story. He’s a partner at Wetwork Tactical, a weapons handling and tactics consulting firm. Woods is also writing Ten, which is a movie about a group of DEA agents getting hunted down by a gang they busted. That flick will star James Cameron vets Sam Worthington and Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Writer: Skip Woods
Details: 95 minutes of pure torture (45 minutes of which I saw)

Shame on you Bruce Willis.

Shame on you Skip Woods.

Shame on you John Moore.

While A Good Day To Die Hard wasn’t as bad as, say, getting tortured by the Viet Cong, it was still pretty damn bad. And I’ll tell you when the moment occurred that I knew it would be bad. It was the scene where John McClane was in the cab after arriving in Russia. The scene has McClane and the cabbie engaging in a goofy (awkwardly directed) conversation. Because the writer is so lousy, he doesn’t understand why you’d have a scene like this in the first place and likely included it because he remembered the scene in the original Die Hard where McClane engaged in that fun conversation with the limo driver.

Here’s the thing though. That original fun conversation with the limo driver actually had a purpose! First, it introduced us to the charming McClane (he sits in the front seat with the limo driver, showing us he’s just a normal guy). But more importantly, it sets up the relationship between him and his wife, which will dictate us CARING when she’s held hostage and WANT John to save her.

This Moscow cabbie scene is a classic Screenwriting 101 mistake. It doesn’t tell us ANYTHING we don’t already know. It tells us John is here looking for his son (already knew that), that John has a daughter (already knew that), and that John is from New York (kinda learned that ohhhh, 25 years ago). So what’s the point of this scene? It’s the definition of pointless.

That doesn’t even begin to infringe on some of the other screenwriting 101 errors though. We follow a scene talking in a car (with his daughter) with a scene talking in a car (with the Russian cabbie). Two boring car talky scenes in a row (that reveal nothing or next to nothing). Are you asleep yet?

Oh, and then there’s the classic screenwriting neophyte tell of characters who repeat their line for emphasis. “Dammit John. You shouldn’t have come here.” Dramatic pause. “You shouldn’t have come here.” This “repeat-line-for-emphasis” move was used at least a half dozen times throughout the first 45 minutes.

Oh, and don’t forget the quirky villain character who’s quirky only because we need him to be, NOT because it’s a logical extension of who he actually is. Our villain here EATS CARROTS. No, I’m not kidding. He just munches on them. Every one must’ve been patting each other on the back after that one. “It will be so ironic! A bad guy who eats carrots!” Except it looks STUPID unless it actually makes sense. Darth Vader doesn’t have that raspy breathing thing because it’s cool. He has it because he can’t breath on his own. It’s embedded into his character’s history. Oh, and they didn’t even stop there! The Die Hard villain also tap-dances! Yes, our villain tap-dances!!!

Oh, you say, but what about plot? Was that any good?

That depends on if you like movies. Particularly good ones. I’ll try to explain.

Die Hard starts with John McClane deciding he wants to look for his son, Jack, who’s recently fallen off the map. He gets word that Jack is in Moscow, so he books a flight to Russia to catch up. Meanwhile, there’s something going on in Russia where a high ranking official has incriminating information about Russia’s president or something. Jack, who’s an undercover CIA agent, is aligned with this official for some reason, who’s on trial for something else (are ya following all this?). When the trial’s about to begin, a third party of bad guys blows the courtroom up and goes after the official. Jack shuttles the official away to a safe house but before he can get there, John POPS UP in front of his car and demands to come along.

The three agree that they have to get the official to America or something, but he refuses to leave without his daughter. So they go and meet her at a meticulously scouted warehouse. John thinks something is off and is proven correct when it turns out to be a trap. The daughter is in cahoots with the baddies! The baddies want this secret file as well, but before they can get it, John and Jack join forces and kill a bunch of people and escape. That’s the point where I walked out of the movie. But I hear that John and Jack then head to Chernobyl of all places where they discover there wasn’t any file to begin with. It was all a cover for some weapons grade uranium that was going to be used to blow up the world…or something.

Here’s what I don’t get. Don’t writers realize that if the plot is muddled and/or stupid, that we’re not going to care?? The whole reason we care what’s happening in a movie is because we understand that if our heroes DON’T succeed, something bad will happen. In other words, there’s something at stake! If we don’t understand what our heroes are doing, there’s nothing at stake. After the embarrassingly clumsy plotting that connected our two main characters (John McClane literally BUMPS INTO his son, Jack, in the middle of Moscow. How convenient!), we don’t have any idea what our characters are doing or why they’re doing it. We’re told of some sort of disk or file that’s needed, but it’s never clear what it is, what it holds, or why it’s important. So we’re supposed to be involved in a pursuit that we don’t even understand! I mean compare this to Die Hard. What’s the plot? SAVE HIS FREAKING WIFE! That’s the plot! How freaking simple is that? How clear are the stakes?? That’s why we’re invested. Cause we understand what the heck is going on!

But, none of this compares to what they turn John McClane into. They rewrite this cinema icon into a PASSIVE HERO! Like, that’s the first thing you learn in A screenwriting class. MAKE YOUR HERO ACTIVE! ESPECIALLY in an action movie! The only way you could do worse is if you MADE the most active awesomest hero of all time passive! The original John McClane was great because HE MADE THINGS HAPPEN. He did things. He ACTED. Here, he’s just following his son around like an annoying little child who keeps asking, “Are we there yet?”

I don’t know if this is because they’re trying to do a “pass the torch” thing with the son, but even if that’s the case, it’s a mortal sin. We didn’t come to this movie to see boring buzz cut no-name actor kick ass. We came to see Bruce Willis kick ass!

In the end, all I ask with the writing is that you try. SHOW. ME. THAT. YOU. ARE. TRYING. There isn’t a single moment in this script that indicates anyone was putting any effort into the choices. I’d be surprised if this script made it past a second draft. That’s how sloppy it feels. I mean it didn’t even get the tone right. Die Hard films are supposed to be fun! Whoever directed this thought he was directing The Bourne Identity or a new Bond flick. Where was the fun???

And don’t buy into the company line that “IT’S AN ACTION FLICK. LOOSEN UP AND ENJOY IT!” Just cause you’re making an action flick doesn’t mean that things like plot, story, and characters don’t matter. I know this because I’ve seen action movies that have done it right. Where the people actually cared about writing a good screenplay. They were called Die Hard.

And it’s not insignificant. If you make a good movie, you make more money! People will keep buying your movie 20 years from now. Just like they still buy Die Hard, the original. So there is incentive to get it right. I’m just shocked that hacks were allowed write this piece of garbage.

Try. Next time, just try. That’s all I ask.

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

What I learned: Don’t write scenes that tell us things we already know! You will bore us. Who isn’t bored by the random weird Moscow cab scene in A Good Day To Die Hard? And the reason we’re bored is because it doesn’t advance the plot in any way, it doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know, and it doesn’t reveal anything we need for later. It. Is. Pointless!

It turns out that Charlie Kaufman writing Killing Charlie Kaufman (which I reviewed here) was just a big rumor and NOT TRUE!  I was contacted by Charlie’s people themselves who confirmed that Kaufman had nothing to do with the screenplay.  That rumor has been going around Hollywood for a decade now so I guess we should be glad that we’ve finally cleared it up.

I tend to get hung up on character and structure and story a lot. You know, those things that “supposedly” make your script better. I don’t often get into the nitty-gritty, the smaller details that, when added up, really make an impact on your script. Which is what inspired today’s article. Here are 10 small things you can do to improve your screenplay right now. Enjoy!

1) Cut out the least important character in your script. See, here’s the thing. We’re character whores. We love adding people to our scripts, even if it doesn’t make sense. We just think, “Another character. Yay!” The problem with this is that we all of a sudden have a bunch of characters who don’t matter. So here’s a simple tool to help you. Find the least important character in your script and get rid of them. You’ll feel better afterwards. I promise.

2) Eliminate the 3 scenes that have the least to do with your plot. Writing pointless scenes is an epidemic. Even top-level professionals do it. I just read a 3-page scene the other day where our hero meets a really fun character, who disappears afterwards and is never seen again. Why, then, do we need that scene in the movie? Get rid of your three most irrelevant scenes right now. You will send me an e-mail within the week and offer me cookies for this. I guarantee it.

3) Combine 6 scenes into 3 – Combining scenes is a power skill that will turn your script into a lean and mean power machine. Do you really need two separate scenes for your hero asking the girl out to the prom AND applying for a job? What if the girl he’s asking works at the store he’s applying for a job at? Now you kill two birds with one stone! Take six scenes and find a way to combine them into three.

4) Twitterize your paragraphs. Look at every four-line paragraph and see if you can cut it down to 3. Lean scripts are just easier to read. And I’ve found that with a little creativity you can take most long paragraphs and make them a lot shorter. So just go through your script and everywhere you have a four line paragraph, get it down to three. You can do it!

5) Give every character in your script either a memorable introduction or a memorable description. Easy-to-forget characters are a time-honored tradition in amateur screenwriting. Don’t be a part of that tradition. The best way to make your characters memorable is to make them stand out when we first meet them. Do this by showing them doing something interesting, or have that kick-ass description that makes them immediately visible in the reader’s eye.

6) Stop being derivative. Go through every scene in your script and ask yourself (honestly) if you’ve seen that scene before in another movie. If you have, change it. Find an angle, even if it’s tiny, to make it feel fresh. One of the biggest problems with amateur scripts is that they feel too similar to stuff we’ve already seen. This is an easy way to prevent that.

7) Take your three heaviest exposition scenes and find a way to SHOW that information rather than TELL it. For example, instead of a character telling someone their girlfriend just broke up with them, show them burning all her pictures.

8) Simplify your writing. Stop trying to impress us with your hundred-dollar words or Pulitzer-Prize-worthy prose. Scripts are about understanding what’s going on. Just tell your story simply. You still want to add some flavor, but where I see scripts go south is when writers over-flavorize their description. Get complex with your plot. But keep your writing simple.

9) Place your character in un-obvious locations. Too many writers have their characters talking in coffee houses, restaurants or living rooms. Because these settings are boring, we’re bored reading them. Spice up your locations. Maybe the characters are fixing the satellite dish on the roof while talking. Maybe they’re at a drag race. Maybe they’re at a puppy daycare. Have fun with your locations. They’re going to spice your scenes up.

10) Never EVER cheat your margins (both horizontal and vertical). It took me awhile to figure out why – all else being equal – some scripts read slower than others. It’s because the writers cheated their margins. They fit more words onto a line and more lines onto a page, usually by invoking the old Final Draft “tight” formatting tool. Good God never do this. I’ll be sitting there feeling like I’m on page 20, look up and see I’m on page 10 and, besides being pissed off that the script is taking forever to read, wonder how that can be. On almost every occasion, I check the margins and, sure enough, the writer’s cheating.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: When a failing TV writer sees his friend, Charlie Kaufman, become a screenwriting mega-star after his indie hit, “Being John Malkovich,” he decides to kill him.
About: While there have been rumors that Charlie Kaufman wrote Killing Charlie Kaufman under the pseudonym “Wrick Cunningham,” those rumors have been confirmed to be false, as Charlie Kaufman’s people themselves wrote to tell me that that’s not the case.  As for what that means on who did write “Killing,” who knows?  It could be anyone who’s a Charlie Kaufman fan.
Writer: Wrick Cunningham
Details: 112 pages – March 5, 2002 draft (1st draft)

Rick Cunningham is on suicide patrol – for himself. He’s got a wife he doesn’t really like. Kids he can’t support. He’s a writer but his agent barely talks to him. Therefore he’s decided life isn’t worth living anymore. That is before he gets a surprise phone call that he’s been invited to work on the Donny Most show, a sitcom centered around a comedian named Donny Most.

The staff is a little surprised to find out Rick’s never actually worked on a TV show before. In fact, Rick doesn’t even WATCH TV. But gosh golly gee they sure do like making fun of his name (Richie Cunningham?). People like to ask him how the Fonz his doing. If he’s talked to Ralph Malph lately. It drives Rick nuts. But at least he’s getting paid to write.

That is until an unfortunate accident. While pulling out from a parking space after work, Rick accidentally RUNS OVER Donny Most, the star of the show! The injuries are enough to put Donny in the hospital for months, which means the show is cancelled! Which means all those writers are out of jobs. Which means they all HATE Rick.

Well, all except for one. Another writer on the show named Charlie Kaufman can’t thank Rick enough. He HATED working on Donny Most and the cancellation has given him new life. In fact, it means he can finish this passion project of his, a feature script called, “Being John Malkovich.” Rick thinks the idea is way too bizarre but encourages Charlie to stick with it. Who knows, it might make a great writing sample someday.

Meanwhile, Rick’s career starts tanking even more spectacularly than before. Everyone in town thinks that he killed Donny Most (even though he’s fine – just injured) and therefore won’t hire him for anything. On top of that, Rick gets word that his old friend Charlie sold that crazy John Malkovich script. And even more surprisingly, Malkovich, the actor, is doing it! Hmm, he figures, that’s nice. Too bad it will only make 10 bucks at the box office.

Malkovich ends up making more than 10 bucks at the box office. In fact, the success of the film launches Kaufman into the screenwriting stratosphere. Everyone wants to be in the Charlie Kaufman business. For some reason this devastates Rick, who ends up joining a “We Hate Charlie Kaufman” support group, made up of people who have known Kaufman at one point or another and now want to kill him. In fact, the focus of the group is offering up dream scenarios in which they kill Charlie is bizarre and violent ways.

Pretty soon, Rick wants to kill Charlie too. He’s convinced that Charlie’s responsible for his dying career. So he goes and buys a gun and starts prepping for the murder. In the meantime, a new pill comes out that allows you to feel exactly like a Charlie Kaufman movie – both happy but also a little bittersweet. People in the group start taking the pill and find happiness in being able to feel like Charlie.

Rick gets distracted when an updated “Happy Days” show gets ordered and they want him to work on it. They think it’s hilarious that a writer named Rick Cunningham would be on the writing team. Rick finds his way back to a good place and decides to re-distribute his anger into writing a script about how he wants to kill Charlie Kaufman. Once finished, he sends it to Charlie, who loves it! He wants to make it. Which would be great except Rick falls into a coma (after getting shot by Donny Most, who was pissed off that Rick ruined his career)!

Then (of course) after he awakes, he falls into ANOTHER coma! And when he awakes, he finds out he’s been taking the Charlie Kaufman pill, which has made him believe he’s Charlie Kaufman. Which means that it wasn’t Rick who wrote “Killing Charlie Kaufman.” It was Kaufman himself! Kaufman tries to explain all this to Rick (or is he explaining it to himself?) as Killing Charlie Kaufman becomes a giant hit starring Tom Cruise as Charlie Kaufman. Uhhh, confused yet? Yeah, me too. Then again, would it be a Charlie Kaufman script if you weren’t?

Okay, lots to say about this one.  Let’s start with the first act. Rick Cunningham starts off miserable. He’s already in a bad place. He already wants to kill himself. Therefore, when Charlie starts doing well and Rick becomes miserable, I had a hard time accepting that he’d pin all this on Charlie. He was no worse than he was a few months ago. I thought the script would’ve worked better if it had started out with Rick at the top of his career. He was kicking ass in the TV world. He was on his way to becoming one of the top writers in the business. Maybe the Donny Most Show was actually his first show-runner job. Things were looking up.

Then Charlie Kaufman ruined this somehow and went on to become famous. Actually, that was another beef I had. I couldn’t figure out why Rick was so upset with Charlie. The two were friends. Rick encouraged Charlie to pursue the Being John Malkovich script. Why would he want to kill him after he became successful with it? It wasn’t like Charlie screwed him over or was a dick to him. He simply became successful.

The script probably needed Charlie to be more of an asshole or screw Rick over in some way. There needed to be a moment where Rick could’ve submitted his weird quirky script to one of the producers of the show, but decided against it cause he felt it would go nowhere. Charlie then did instead, which led to his career skyrocketing. In other words, Rick could’ve had this life himself, and he feels Charlie stole it from him. Then it would sort of make sense why he’d become obsessed with killing him. As it stands, I didn’t understand the hate.

Then, when we get into the Charlie Kaufman drug and the producing of Killing Charlie Kaufman, things start to get weird. Like, really weird. It’s always tricky when you have a screenplay mostly grounded in reality then try to throw in a dose of fantasy – such as the Charlie Kaufman pill. If there’s anyone who can pull it off, it’s Kaufman, but I had trouble wrapping my brain around the pill and what was going on with it. It felt a bit too “out there.”

And of course I hate wrapping major plot points around murky story elements. At first the pill appears to be a joke, something to talk about during the group therapy sessions. But then it becomes an essential part of the story, with Rick starting to believe he’s Charlie (or something) and writing a script under Charlie’s name, which is actually under Rick’s name, which is actually a pseudonym for Charlie, which is actually written in real life by “Wrick Cunningham,” who is of course Charlie Kaufman.

When you’re trying to pull shit like that off, you have to make sure the edges are as sharp as can be. And they weren’t, often leaving me wondering what the heck was going on. You could read me the section where Kaufman explains to Rick how Rick thought he was Charlie when he wrote the script a million times over and I still wouldn’t get it.

You know, I originally wrote this review thinking it was written by Charlie Kaufman.  I don’t know what to make of it now being written by some other completely random person.  I mean, it would’ve been pretty cool if Kaufman orchestrated the whole facade and a totally Kaufman like thing to do.  But I guess we’re just left with a really big fan of Kaufman who sorta kinda sounds like him and has too much time on his hands.  Regardless of who wrote it, it didn’t really click.  This one wasn’t for me.

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

What I learned: Avoid wrapping major plot points around confusing or murky story elements. We’re not really sure what these “Charlie Kaufman pills” are or how they work. So when the final act consists of our protag “becoming” Charlie Kaufman and “sorta” writing this script as Kaufman since he was on the pills, we’re just confused.

Swingers is a fascinating pastiche of a movie. Its well-chronicled history includes the actors doing years of table reads to drum up interest and funding for the movie. It was eventually shot on the tip of a shoestring with Doug Liman (The Bourne Identify) directing the film. It was a box-office dud, but word-of-mouth made it a DVD sensation. It started Vince Vaughn’s career and eventually led to John Favreau becoming one of the top directors in Hollywood. Script-wise, it’s basically a laundry list of things I tell you NOT to do. You know I hate scripts with “guys talking in rooms.” Well, this script is basically one revolving room with characters talking in it. Goal-wise, there isn’t much there. I guess you could say the goal is for Mike (Favreau) to get over his ex-girlfriend. The script sends its characters off to Vegas, where we assume the remainder of the story will take place, only to send them back to LA twenty minutes later – leaving us confused and disoriented. You know how I hate Woe-Is-Me characters? Well Mikey is the quintessential woe-is-me protag. On top of this, the script is one long string of dialogue. It’s a non-stop talkfest. So why does it all work? Well, that’s hard to say. I have a saying: “Funny trumps everything.” Even if you break every rule in the book, if the audience is laughing, they’ll stick with you. And the dialogue in Swingers is realllllyyyyy funny. Still, this is one of the trickiest scripts I’ve ever broken down. It shouldn’t work. It has no business working. And yet it does. Let’s see if we can’t find out why.

1) The Sympathy Card – One of the reasons we love Mike despite how pathetic and depressed he is (Woe-is-me!), is because he’s earned his “sympathy card.” Give your protag a sympathy card by having something bad happen to him. Two of the most popular ways to do this are through the death of a loved one or getting dumped by your significant other. If you show how devastated your protag is, we’ll have sympathy for him and follow him through anything. Mike’s obsessive yet honest depression resulting from his girlfriend leaving him ensures we’ll be Team Mikey all the way.

2) For good dialogue, give each character a directive in the scene – When bad writers try to ape a movie like Swingers, they focus their scenes on “humorous” observations about life with no real focus or structure (i.e. they’ll have their characters discuss for seven minutes why they believe Dr. Seuss was gay). For dialogue to work, the scene needs to have direction. You achieve this by giving each character a directive they’re trying to achieve. You then look for humor within the evolution of that discussion, as opposed to trying to find the comedy first and building a scene on top of that. Look no further than the very first scene in Swingers to see this in action. Mike is talking to his friend Rob. His directive is to figure out if it’s okay to call his ex. Rob’s directive is get Mike to stop thinking about his ex. It’s a simple and humorous discussion, anchored by both characters having clear directives in the conversation.

3) CONFLICT ALERT – Remember guys, movies rarely work unless there’s some element of conflict between the two leads. If the characters are always on the same page, we’re going to be bored! Mike is all about respecting girls and being honest. Trent is about telling girls whatever he needs to to get them in bed. He has no respect for them. This is the basis for 75% of their conversations. They always butt heads on this issue. That push and pull is what makes their dialogue so fun.

4) Disagreement Is A Comedy’s Best Friend – There isn’t a single scene in Swingers where characters agree. Every scene is two people disagreeing about something. It’s that simple. The intensity of these disagreements varies. But it’s always there. The first scene has Mike and Rob disagreeing about whether he should call his ex. The second scene has Trent and Mike disagreeing on whether to go to Vegas. The blackjack scene has Trent and Mike disagreeing on whether to double down. Then Mike and Trent disagree on how to treat a waitress. In the girls’ trailer, Trent wants to hook up with a girl while Mike wants to check his voicemail to see if his ex called. It’s one of the simplest ways to create comedy people. Just have people disagree.

5) If your plot is all over the place, make sure your protag’s throughline is strong – Like I mentioned in the setup, this plot (when there is one) is all over the place. We start in LA, then Trent convinces Mike to come to Vegas, then we come back to LA, then we start randomly going to clubs and parties, then there’s a weird showdown with a group of gangbangers, then we go back to the bar scene. There’s virtually no plot here! However, the reason the movie’s able to stay together is because Mikey’s throughline is so strong. He is OBSESSED with his ex. He’s obsessed with if she called. He’s obsessed with whether he should call her. The first two scenes (the first with Rob and the second checking his answering machine) barrel home the issue that Mike is not over his girlfriend. This issue is a part of every single scene, which saves this script from wandering aimlessly into the Nevada desert.

6) STAKES ALERT – Remember guys, heighten scenes by setting up the stakes AHEAD OF TIME. One of the reasons the classic blackjack scene works so well is because we establish beforehand (in the car ride) that Mike only has $300 bucks to his name. Therefore, when he accidentally gets stuck at the high roller table (100 dollar minimum), and has to double down (so the bet is $200), we know this is 2/3 of all the money he has. The stakes for winning this hand are now HUGE. Had we not established this beforehand, this scene wouldn’t have played nearly as well.

7) SMASH CUT TO – The “Smash Cut To” has sort of been forgotten but is still a viable alternative to “Cut To” that can be used for comedic effect. Use it any time you’re cutting to another scene that’s the payoff of a joke. For example, when Mike and Trent are arguing on the phone about going to Vegas and Mike keeps saying, “I’m not going to Vegas.” “We’re going to Vegas.” “I’m not going to Vegas.” “We’re going to Vegas.” “I’m not going to Vegas.” “SMASH CUT TO: Mike and Trent in car going to Vegas.” Or after Mike’s been wiped out at the high stakes blackjack table. “SMASH CUT TO: Mike and Trent are wedged between the BLUEHAIR and the BIKER at the FIVE DOLLAR TABLE.”

8) Use friendship to make an asshole character likable – Trent is a huge asshole. He’s selfish. He’s a dick. He has zero respect for women. He makes jokes at others’ expense. So why do we like him? Because Trent would take a bullet for Mike, our protag. You have no doubt, in any scene, how much Trent loves Mike. It’s that love, that friendship, that helps us overlook all those negative traits. If Trent was as much of a jerk to Mikey as he was to everyone else? We’d hate him.

9) Milk your characters’ dominant traits for better dialogue – Whoever your characters are, particularly in comedy, look for any way to milk their dominant traits within the dialogue. Mike’s dominant traits are his lack of confidence, his nervousness, his indecisiveness. So whenever Mike talks, he’s always stuttering, repeating things, overcompensating (He bumbles to the dealer at the high stakes table. He bumbles to the girls they meet at the Vegas bar). Trent, on the other hand, loves himself. So a lot of his dialogue is in the third person (“Daddy’s going to get the Rainman suite.” “Now listen to Tee. We’ll stop at a gas station right away.”). So many writers write friends who sound the same. This is one of the easiest ways to make them sound different.

10) The Choice – Remember, the most emotionally gripping scripts have “The Choice” at the end. That’s when your main character has a choice he must make near the end which is directly related to his flaw. Swingers does a great job of this. Mike’s flaw is that he can’t move on from his girlfriend. So in the end, his ex-girlfriend calls, and then on the other line, the girl he met the previous night calls. He literally has the choice of a) talking to the new girl (and therefore overcoming his flaw), or b) talking to his ex (failing to overcome his flaw). He of course chooses A and we’re happy because Mike has finally changed!

These are 10 tips from the movie “Swingers.” To get 500 more tips from movies as varied as “Aliens,” “When Harry Met Sally,” and “The Hangover,” check out my book, Scriptshadow Secrets, on Amazon!