Driver waiting for his opening scene!
I cannot WAIT to read your Scriptshadow 250 submission. But if you’re going to have any shot at winning this thing, you’re going to need to bring it. I don’t think that’s a surprise. To help you, I went back down memory lane to try and identify the simplest way to tab a script good or bad. It didn’t take long to find my answer. In about 95% of the screenplays I read, I can tell if the writer has the goods in the VERY FIRST SCENE. And I’m guessing it’s the same for most readers.
You see, the opening scene is the reader’s introduction to both YOU and YOUR SCREENPLAY. Much like a real-life introduction, the other person is sizing every detail of you up to decide whether they like you or not. Are you dressed well? Do you have good hygiene? Do you have good posture? Do you look them in the eye? Are you arrogant or humble? Do you speak clearly or mumble? Do you smile or have resting bitch face? All these clues help this person determine whether you’re someone they want to get to know better.
The exact same thing is happening during your opening scene. That’s because you’re giving off tons of hints about if you know what you’re doing or not. The first thing I typically look for in a scene is: Is anything HAPPENING? Then, is the writing crisp and to the point? And finally, is it clear what’s going on? If the writer’s passed this test, congratulations. He’s done exactly what’s expected of him. But all this gets him is an extended evaluation period.
Guess what? I don’t want you to write “extended evaluation period” first scenes. I want you to write GREAT first scenes that IMMEDIATELY GRAB THE READER and announce that you’re a writer who knows how to entertain. A lot of writers never get past this point. They don’t realize there’s a difference between showing that you know what you’re doing, and actually PULLING A READER INTO A STORY. You need to master the latter.
So what do you do to pull the reader in with your opening scene? YOU TELL A STORY WITH THE SCENE. Repeat that back to me.
What does that mean? It means using storytelling devices that make the reader want to continue reading. Most writers do the opposite of this. They think they’ve earned some divine right which states that you, the reader, must afford them your full concentration for the entire script no matter how boring it is because of how much work they’ve put into the script. They can take their time, dammit. Because wait til you get to that whopper of an ending!
No. Nada. A reader OWES YOU NOTHING. It’s you who owes them. You owe them entertainment from the very first page and if you don’t give it to them, they have every right to check out, even if it’s on page 3.
What are these mythical storytelling devices I’m referring to? They include but are not limited to: Conflict, tension, suspense, dramatic irony, a sense of foreboding, mystery, surprise, a difficult choice, a twist, dropping us into the middle of some action, and so on. Do one or a combination of these things in your opening scene and, as long as the scene is somewhat original (or at least a fresh spin on a common scene) you should pull the reader in.
Let’s look at two examples – the wrong way and the right way. The scene we’ll use is one I’ve read a million times before. It’s the scene where the main character, often a 30-something man-child, wakes up in his bedroom, which we notice is a complete shit-hole, with dirty clothes and empty beer bottles piled everywhere. The extent of the writer adding a “story component” often entails the hero checking his clock, realizing he’s late for work, and running out of the room.
That’s what I call a terrible opening scene. Nothing is happening. There’s no story to the scene. It’s unoriginal. It announces to the reader that you are putting the least amount of effort into your opening as possible. And that conveys to the reader that you will continue to do so throughout the screenplay. I mean if you couldn’t even get excited enough to write a fun original FIRST SCENE??? Of course you’re not going to try for the other 59 scenes.
Let’s look at the second example. This is a scene that was in a screenplay I read a long time ago, but I’m forgetting the title. In it, we have the same 30-something man-child character waking up, hung over. But this character wakes up in a child’s bedroom. He’s actually in a little girl’s bed, naked under the covers. The shelves are packed with dolls. Next to him is a crib. We can tell he has no memory of how he ended up here. The scene then follows how he figures out where he is and how he gets out of the house.
The big difference in this second example is that the writer has added MYSTERY to the scene. He’s shown the ability to think forward – to dangle a question in front of the reader so that he’ll want to keep reading – namely “How did this character get here?” This is an oversimplification of the difference between a good and bad opening scene, but the point is, the second example tells a story while the first version is just character set up – and boring character set up at that.
Let’s look at another example. Say you’re writing a cop drama (or even a cop comedy). I want you to imagine who your main character might be, and then try to come up with an opening scene for him. It’s not easy. You literally have an unlimited number of choices. The funny thing is, the beginner writer will always take the path of least resistance. So they’ll often go with whatever comes to mind. Maybe the cop shows up at a murder scene where he’s briefed by the Captain on what they know about the victim.
Hmm. Haven’t seen that scene before, have we?
So ask yourself – how can I turn this same scene into a story? Well, instead of your cop showing up last, after everyone else has already done the work, what if he shows up first? Then, as he’s observing the crime scene, he encounters a clue that implies the killer is still on the premises. Now we have danger, suspense, mystery. You can even add some dramatic irony if we cut to the hiding killer, who isn’t yet aware that our hero is onto him.
Yeah yeah, we’ve seen this scene before, too. But it’s still a much more entertaining scene than the first one, and way more likely to pull a reader in.
Now all of this sounds great in a vacuum. But over time, I’ve come to learn that every script is unique. Each story has its own requirements, and those requirements sometimes work against you doing the things you want to do. One of the hardest things to balance is setting up your main character AND writing an entertaining opening scene at the same time.
Take The Equalizer. In that screenplay, Richard Wenk needs to establish that Robert McCall lives a very simple reserved lifestyle. As you can imagine, there aren’t many exciting ways to convey “simple” and “reserved.” So the opening scene is McCall tidying up his sparse spotless apartment. It sets up the character perfectly, but makes for a weak opening scene.
Contrast this with Drive, in which Driver (Ryan Gosling) is an ice-cold brave-as-shit getaway driver. That more naturally lends itself to a strong opening scene – which is exactly what we get. Driver expertly evades a group of cops while driving his two accomplices to safety.
So yeah, we have to work with what we have. But I want to go back to that Equalizer scene for a second. It is a boring opening scene. But Wenk clearly knows that. So he uses sparse description and only highlights a few brief things in order to get McCall out of the apartment and into the world as quickly as possible. As a reader, I may not be wowed, but the writing is so minimal and the actions so clear that I’m willing to reserve judgment until after a few more scenes. Had the writer kept McCall in his apartment for three more pages and described a bunch of needless things, I would’ve known immediately that the script was doomed.
So does that mean sometimes we HAVE to open with a boring scene and just do the best we can? This is the way I look at it. You’re a spec writer. You’re not writing on assignment (like Wenk on The Equalizer). You’re not writing for some producer who already knows all the story beats because he pitched the idea to you. The moment your script hits someone’s eyes will be the first time they’ve seen it. For that reason, you should always go for the gold. Find a way to give us a great opening scene that TELLS A STORY – limitations be damned. If you do that, you not only start your script off right, but you instill trust in the reader that you’re here to entertain them.
