I hope you don’t think you’re going to learn a lot about dialogue in this article. Dialogue is a constant battle for me. It’s something I don’t totally understand. The reason for this is that dialogue is the one aspect of screenwriting you can’t truly “break down.” You can’t divide dialogue into three acts. You can’t add a character arc to dialogue. You can’t give dialogue backstory. You simply write down the voices in your head. And while some people have interesting voices to draw from, others don’t.

The funny thing is, dialogue looks so damn easy from afar! In fact, it’s why most people get into screenwriting. They think, “I can write better dialogue than THAT!” So they dive in, write up 120 usually autobiographical pages (likely the crazy adventures of them and their friends – “Our life is just like a movie!!!”), show it to their inner circle, get a bunch of polite but suspiciously distant “I liked its” punctuated by one brave soul who’s willing to say what everybody’s thinking: “I don’t get it. It’s just a bunch of people talking.”

Ohhhh. You learn your first lesson. Dialogue actually has to have a POINT! It actually has to move the story forward. Why didn’t somebody tell me? Quentin Tarantino has ten minute scenes about Royals with Cheese. Why can’t I do that? Because you’re not Quentin Tarantino. You’re you. And “you” has to learn that within every scene of dialogue, there must be a purpose. In fact, you should be doing SEVERAL things with your dialogue at once. And that’s where we learn just how difficult dialogue is. Sure, if all you had to do was have characters talk, dialogue would be easy. Instead, there are five main things that need to be accomplished whenever characters speak. Let’s take a look at them.

MOVE THE STORY FORWARD – Every scene should have a point. It should be moving the plot along in some way. If a problem is introduced into your story and a scene goes by without the characters attempting to address that problem, guess what? You’re not moving your story forward. So when your characters are talking, make sure the majority of what they say centers around pushing their own goals and needs along. You do that, you’ll be pushing the story forward. If no one wants anything? If characters just talk about life and stuff? Your dialogue isn’t doing its job.

REVEAL CHARACTER – You want to use your dialogue to tell us more about your characters. Screenplays are short. They’re not like TV shows where you have hundreds of hours to delve into a character’s life. Therefore you have to sneak character development in wherever you can. Dialogue certainly isn’t the only way to do this, but it’s one way. If a character says he just spent three hours at the gym, that tells us he’s a workout freak. If a character always talks about his ex-girlfriend, that tells us he’s not over his ex-girlfriend. One of the big ways to reveal character through dialogue is to identify your character’s fatal flaw and keep hitting on it throughout the script. Look at Rocky. Here’s a character who doesn’t fully believe in himself. So we get a scene where he expresses fear at the idea of fighting Apollo. We get a scene where he nervously flirts with Adrian. We get a scene where Mick tells him he’s a bum. The dialogue is constantly reminding us that Rocky doesn’t believe in himself yet, which is a key part of his character.

EXPOSITION – Exposition is the worst. It’s hard enough to make dialogue sound good on its own. Now we have to waste it on logistical story elements every 8 minutes? It’s like trying to pick up a girl and then her disapproving friend walks up. The words just don’t come out as easily. This is why the trick with exposition is to simplify what you need to say and convey it in as few words as possible. Exposition is always going to trip up your dialogue a LITTLE bit. But at least this way you minimize the damage.

KEEP IT UNDER 2 PAGES – To me, this is one of the hardest things about dialogue. If we had 5-6 pages for every conversation, dialogue would be as easy as accusing Justin Bieber of fathering your baby (baby baby ohhhhh…). But the average film scene is 2 minutes long. 2 MINUTES! That’s only 2 pages for your characters to say everything they gotta say. This is why new writers hear this critique so much: “Cut cut cut cut cut.” You gotta cut everything down to its bare essence because you don’t have time in your scene to include all the bullshit. Sure, some scenes are longer than others.  A five minute dialogue scene is not unheard of.  But it’s still rare.  Which means learning how to scrunch all your dialogue into a very small space. 

ENTERTAIN – This is the scariest part of all when it comes to dialogue. After you do all that stuff – the story, the exposition, the characters, the minimizing – the dialogue still has to entertain us! It still has to sound like two people talking in real life, even though in real life, every one of these conversations would probably go on for more than an hour! That means going back, smoothing it all out, editing it, rearranging it, adding a joke or two, and continuously asking yourself, “Does this sound like two people really talking?” Until the answer is “Yes,” keep rewriting it.

Now that we know the stipulations working against us for writing brilliant dialogue, let’s talk about the tools you can use to fight these inhibitors. I don’t have all the answers. I fight against dialogue every day. That said, I know these five tools help improve dialogue.

COME IN LATE, LEAVE EARLY
This was mentioned in the comments the other day and it’s a great tip – especially for beginners. Come into your scene as late as possible and leave your scene as early as possible. In other words, only give us the meat of the scene. Not the fat. Say your characters are meeting at a coffee shop. Tom is getting the coffee while Sarah waits at the table. Tom says, “What do you want again!?” “A double mocha decaf!” “Large?!” “Uhh, yeah, large!” Tom waits, grabs the coffees, walks over, sits down, a moment for the two to get settled, they ease into a conversation…and then SOMEWHERE around here they actually start talking about the story. UHHHHHHH…NO! Why the hell would you include all that irrelevant nonsense?? Start with them ALREADY AT THE TABLE WITH THEIR COFFEES. Catch them five minutes into their conversation, right when they’re talking about the important stuff. That’s what I mean by “Come in late.” Then, as soon as you’ve met the point of your scene, get out. Once Obi-Wan and Luke agree on a transport fee with Han in the Cantina scene, they don’t sit around for another five minutes chatting about the weather on Kashyyyk. We cut away. Now obviously there’s some flexibility in this rule. Sometimes you want William Wallace to take his time riding through the village, building up the suspense, before he BEATS DOWN the English. But for the most part, coming in late and getting out early will keep your dialogue focused and on point. You won’t write a bunch of boring shit if you only include the meat.

SET-UP
The best dialogue scenes are set up ahead of time by carefully building up your character’s goals, secrets, motivations, etc. You then place them in a scene (preferably with something at stake), and watch the dialogue write itself. For example, Joe and Jane talking about their friend’s wedding is boring. But if we find out beforehand that Jane plans to kill Joe in this scene, talking about that wedding becomes a lot more interesting. Paul meeting his potential father-in-law is mildly entertaining. But if Paul’s girlfriend tells him beforehand that she’ll never marry someone her father doesn’t approve of, now Paul meeting his father-in-law is SUPER entertaining. Watching Mick beg Rocky to be his coach is a strong scene no matter where it is in the film. But the reason it’s a classic is because we watched Mick kick Rock out of his gym and tell him he didn’t believe in him earlier. So if a scene isn’t working, go back in your script and see if you can set it up better. Once you find the right situation, the dialogue will write itself.

SUBTEXT/DRAMATIC IRONY
This is one of the best ways to improve your dialogue. Give one character a secret. Give both characters a secret. Or tell the audience something the characters don’t know. If you do any of these things, you’ll create subtext, unspoken words beneath the text. If we know that Frank plans to break up with JoJo, then anything they talk about before the break-up will have subtext. If Julie secretly likes Tom and the two accidentally get stuck in the bathroom at a party, anything they talk about (Math class, bird watching, dinosaurs) will have subtext. There are other ways to achieve subtext (which you guys are free to highlight in the comments section) but this approach tends to create the most powerful dialogue situations.

STAY AWAY FROM ON THE NOSE
When we first write dialogue for a scene, we often think literally. If a character asks, “Are you thirsty?” We might have the other character respond, “Yes. Could you get me some water?” That’s a very literal on-the-nose response. Most people talk in and around what they’re trying to say instead of saying exactly what they’re thinking. They use slang, sarcasm, manipulation, indifference, caution – any number of things – to keep the conversation off-center. Rarely does dialogue go down a straight path. So let’s ask that question again. “Are you thirsty?” A more interesting response might be, “No, my lips always dry up and bleed like this.” Your characters are not robots. Nobody speaks literally. So make sure you’re mucking up the dialogue and that no one is speaking on-the-nose.

KNOW YOUR FUCKING CHARACTERS (KYFC)
Writers hate doing character biographies because it takes so much damn time, but holy hell does it work. Why? Because the more you know about your character, the more specific you can make their dialogue. Bad dialogue is usually general – vague, non-specific. Rick comes home late one night and spots his roommate, Jed, on the couch. “What’s up man?” “Not much. How’d your day go?” “Shitty. I’m exhausted.” This is the most general boring conversation EVER. Let’s say I did some character biographies ahead of time though and found out that Rick is an aspiring actor and Jed is a compulsive gambler. Let’s try this again. (Rick stumbles in) “I’ve got two words: Fuck Stanislofsky.” “I need to borrow money.” Rick gives Jed a look. Jed: “What?? How was I supposed to know Vick would tear his MCL.” “I’m not giving you any more money.” “Come on. The Raiders are a sure thing.” It ain’t going to win any Academy awards but it’s certainly better than “How’d your day go?” Why? Because it’s SPECIFIC. It reveals character. It has the people in the scene saying things only they would say. Do your homework on your characters. I promise it will pay off.

And that’s all I got my friends. I know it’s not the end all article on dialogue but the truth is I don’t know everything about dialogue. Which is why I’m turning to you. Please. I want to learn. Tell me how YOU approach this aspect of screenwriting. What tips and tricks help you? This is the least defined area of screenwriting. Let’s try and crack it.

Genre: Drama/Love Story
Premise: A man is released from the mental hospital with his mind set on getting his wife back. He’ll unfortunately need the help of a woman as crazy as him.
About: This is perfect subject matter for David O. Russell, since it’s pretty well known he’s a bit nuts himself. Playbook’s been in the headlines a lot lately, first for having a female character that every actress in Hollywood wanted to play, and then because it broke up the long-time friendship/partnership between David O. Russell and Mark Wahlberg. Apparently, after The Fighter’s success (Wahlberg brought David on to direct when nobody else wanted anything to do with him), Mark just figured he’d automatically be cast in Playbook. Instead, Russell went with Bradley Cooper, and Mark was pissed. Next thing you know it’s Selena Gomez and Demi Lavato all over again. Or is it Samantha Ronson and Lindsey Lohan all over again? Oh I don’t know. I’ll check PerezHilton and get back to you.The film also stars Jennifer Lawrence, Julia Stiles, Chris Tucker and Robert De Niro.
Writer: David O Russell (based on the novel by Matthew Quick)
Details: 127 pages – 2008 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

It’s hard to talk about David O. Russell without mentioning all the controversy that follows him. This guy creates so much drama, you could throw him on the cast of Jersey Shore and the show wouldn’t skip a beat. I’ve been lukewarm to Russel’s work. I’ve always thought he was interesting, but there’s this consistent lack of focus in his storytelling that’s always bothered me. For example, Christian Bale’s character was so dominant in The Fighter that the whole boxing match at the end with Mark Wahlberg felt tacked on. To be honest, I’m still not sure who the main character was in that movie.

Well that’s about to change today. This is my favorite thing Russell has done by far. Just last week, in my review of Black, I talked about the need to exploit a genre and give it something new. This is the perfect example of that. It’s the most offbeat love story I’ve read in a long time.

30 -year-old Pat Peoples, a former high school substitute, has just gotten out of the mental hospital, and is moving back in with his parents. All he can think about is getting back together with his wife, Nikki. Unfortunately, the reason Pat got stuck in the hospital in the first place is because he mercilessly beat up the man who Nikki was cheating on him with.

What Pat didn’t realize was that the reason Nikki was cheating on him was because he’d given up on life. Now that Pat has been allowed back into the world, he’s decided to change. All he cares about is getting in the best shape possible and being as optimistic and positive as possible, so he can prove to Nikki he’s worthy of being hers again.

Pat’s brother eventually sets him up with Tiffany, who’s a piece of work herself. Her husband recently died, and she was so traumatized that she started having sex with every guy she worked with. Obviously, this became problematic for the company so they let her go. That means Tiffany’s living with her parents just like Pat! The blind date is a disaster. Pat’s disgusted by this woman, and when the night is over, he hopes to never see her again.

Unfortunately, when Pat goes jogging the next day, Tiffany joins him, staying a perfect 10 paces behind him. This leads to a hilarious conversation where Pat explains he wants nothing to do with her and Tiffany explains she wants nothing to do with him, yet they keep running exactly 10 paces from one another the entire time. This becomes a daily ritual between the two until Pat realizes that Tiffany, through a mutual friend, has access to his wife (who, it should be mentioned, has a restraining order against Pat).

Tiffany agrees to deliver a secret letter to Nikki if, and only if, Pat agrees to become her partner in a modern dance competition that takes place in three weeks. The last thing Pat wants to do is dance, but he realizes it’s the only way he’ll be able to communicate with his wife, so he agrees to it. These two oddballs get to know each other during their extensive practice time, and Tiffany starts to fall for Pat. With the eventual meeting of Pat’s wife looming, it remains to be seen whether Pat will reciprocate that love.

First thing’s first. Remember people, this is a writer-director draft. That’s why there’s all of this long text on the page. Why the description gets too specific in places. Why it feels overwritten here and there. Russell does not have to impress any readers. He just came off a box office hit and can make anything he wants. The thing is, despite this alienating style, the actual writing is simple and poignant, so the script reads well.

It’s funny though, the more I think about it, the more I realize Russell probably never had to deal with the spec market. He just wrote a script and directed it (Spanking The Monkey), which is probably why his style is so reader-unfriendly. If you don’t have to impress readers, you never have to learn what impresses readers. This is why Eric Roth (Forrest Gump) has a somewhat unique style as well (some may call him the King of Parentheticals). He too never had to write a spec script. He was hired to write projects right out of college.

Anyway, I thought this script was great. The big lesson that came out of it for me was “anticipation.” If you can make the audience anticipate something – if you can make them want to see something badly – the story will fly by, because we’ll be looking forward to “that” moment. That’s what the device of Nikki (Pat’s wife) does here. Pat is so obsessed with her, he so believes that they’re going to get back together (even though we know he’s got no shot), that we can’t wait for that meeting to come. And this is created through Russell’s detailing of Pat’s obsession. None of this works if Pat is only mildly interested in seeing his wife again. It works because he’s CONVINCED, beyond a reasonable doubt, that she’ll take him back once she sees him. As strange as it sounds, we can’t wait to see his reaction when that dream is crushed.

Another thing I wanted to point out was this running gag (no pun intended) of them jogging 10 paces away from one another. Whenever you write a romantic comedy or a love story or any relationship movie, one of the biggest challenges is coming up with interesting places to put your characters when they have conversations. If it’s just a bunch of talking in coffee shops and rooms, it’s boring. So you want to look for locations/situations that can make an average conversation dynamic in some capacity.

The jogging scenes here are a great example of that. First of all, you have conflict. He doesn’t want her jogging with him. And second you have the unique conversational component. She’s in back of him the whole time. They both have to yell in order to talk. It’s 1000 times more interesting than putting your characters across from one another at a table. That’s not to say you won’t have those scenes. There’s usually going to be one or two dates in a relationship movie where the characters are at a dinner table (and actually Pat and Tiffany’s first date is at a diner). But the idea is to minimize those locations as much as possible.

The thing that worried me the most about the script actually ended up being one of its best attributes. The introduction of this dance contest had the potential to be a really cheesy forced plot thread. I’m actually not sure how Russell and Quick pulled it off but somehow it became an organic extension of the story and quite sweet and moving. When the competition nears, and he hears his wife may be coming, you are on pins and needles waiting to see what will happen.

The presentation here was a little clumsy but the story was top notch. Just barely missed an impressive.

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

What I learned: Occasionally in your screenplay, you’ll need to highlight documents, usually for expositional purposes. The best way to handle these documents is not to go into detail about what they say, but only highlight the relevant words needed to sell the exposition. For example, when Pat’s mom picks him up from the mental hospital, the audience needs to know that the only reason he’s getting released is because he’s going into his mom’s care. Therefore, this is what Russell writes:

“ …she signs ‘Jean Peoples’ as we see phrases: ‘ASSUMES FULL RESPONSIBILITY’ and ‘HOSPITAL BEARS NO LIABILITY.’”

All you need to do is highlight the relevant phrases on the document and then move on. Don’t give us a word by word account of the entire paragraph. It takes up space and this other way is so much easier.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A teenage girl heads to a remote cabin in the mountains with her father and new stepmother – an experience the father hopes will bond the two ladies. But when a mysterious wounded Park Ranger shows up, family bonding will be the least of their concerns.
About: This spec was sent out to producers last October and to my knowledge never sold, which is shocking to me because it’s so much better than 95% of the specs that go wide. My guess is that the spec market sucked so bad last year that a few gems were passed over. This is obviously one of them. It’s Dead Calm meets Panic Room in the best way possible.
Writer: Sarah A. Conradt
Details: 106 pages – undated (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

I know. I know. This isn’t technically a horror script. But I’ll tell you what it is. It’s the best-written script of the week by far. So hold on to your skimobiles people. This is going to be fun.

Beth, Cam and daughter Jo were the perfect family at one point. With Cam being a successful doctor, they had money to spare, which meant perks like a huge beautiful cabin in the snowy wilderness, a place they considered their sanctuary. The best times of their lives were spent there. But unfortunately, so was the worst. Beth got cancer and spent the last moments of her life at the home. Cam and Jo are so devastated by the painful memory that they abandon the house for years.

But eventually, Cam moves on and meets Diane, a school counselor who knows when she’s found something worth hanging onto. Obviously, Jo, now 14, doesn’t feel the same way, and lets it be known. The father realizes he has to do something drastic to get these two on the same page, so he decides to head back up to the house they spent Jo’s youth at.

Unfortunately, this makes Jo even angrier. To bring this woman into the home where her mother died is blasphemy as far as she’s concerned. And you can feel the tension in the car ride up.

Once there, the group settles in for the week, but soon spots a strange man walking towards the house. A bleeding man. When he finally gets to the porch, he’s so exhausted, he passes out. They take him inside, realize he’s a Ranger, and figure out something must have happened to the Ranger station. So Cam jumps in his snowmobile and takes the 40 minute trek down to see what happened.

When he gets there, he sees that an avalanche has practically collapsed the station. But when he goes inside, he finds something much worse. There’s a dead man with a knife in his chest. Turns out our friendly neighborhood Park Ranger might not be a Park Ranger at all. But before Cam can rush out, the structure buckles, and he gets pinned under a log.

Back at the home, our “Park Ranger,” Andy, is coming to. In his 20s, Andy is devilishly handsome, even in his broken down state. He seems like a really nice guy too. He lets them know that he was barely able to survive the avalanche, but that he was the only Park Ranger on duty, and that therefore everything is fine. A big storm has moved in, so he assures them that as soon as it passes, he’ll head out and let the proper authorities know what happened.

Jo is instantly taken with Andy and trusts his every word, whereas Diane isn’t so sure. There’s something fishy about this guy. And this is where things get interesting. We know that Andy is a bad guy. But we see Jo taking his side over the stepmother she despises. Andy quickly figures out the fractured dynamic and takes advantage of it. He tells Jo everything she wants to hear, making her putty in his hands. This allows the both of them to gang up on Diane, and allow Andy to control the situation.

Diane tries desperately to tell Jo that there’s something strange about Andy, but the only thing Jo sees wrong is a woman trying to take her mother’s place. As the script continues, it’s clear that Andy has some sort of plan. But what it is, and what it means for the livelihoods of these two, isn’t clear. However if I were a betting man, I’d say it’s not looking good.

I loved this script from the very first page. And the reason I loved it has a lot to do with things we’ve been discussing over the last few weeks. I’ve been telling you guys that you NEED to add conflict to your scenes. You NEED to look for ways to make your characters clash, for there to be some sort of imbalance in every scene in order to keep things entertaining. This script is the perfect example of this. I wasn’t keeping count, but I’m pretty sure every single scene in the script had conflict. And that’s why it was so exciting.

The important thing to note, though, is WHY every scene had conflict. It’s because the dynamics in the relationships were set up from the outset. For example, we set up that Jo doesn’t trust or like Diane from the very first scene. That means every scene between them is going to have conflict.

But the real power in the script is how Conradt MAXIMIZES this conflict. She wisely starts the movie with Jo’s mother dying. Because we see Jo watch her mother die, because we see how much it hurts her, we *feel* her pain. This allows us to more effectively feel the conflict between her and Diane. Had the dying of the mother merely been mentioned, I’m not sure it would’ve had that much of an effect on us.

The other major source of conflict comes from dramatic irony. We suspect that Andy is bad, but they don’t. Or at least, Jo doesn’t. So every scene between Andy and Jo or Andy and both of them is laced with this tension because we want those characters to find out what we suspect. That means there’s two strong layers of conflict going on at all times. One is between Jo and Diane. The other is between the audience and the characters. Since the majority of scenes take place with these three characters, every scene is good. You have built-in conflict before the scene’s even started. This is what writers mean when they say “the structure needs to be in place first.” If you’ve set up everything ahead of time, you don’t need to pull out your bag of tricks to make the scene work.

Another great thing about Dead Of Winter is that it knows when to reveal information or introduce a plot point to keep the story fresh. For example, for a while the goal is about heading down to a neighbor’s house to use their radio. That lasts for about 15 pages, then the goal shifts to finding out why the father hasn’t come back yet. Then the goal shifts to Diane trying to convince Jo that Andy is bad. Amongst all this, a twist will occasionally pop up, such as Andy’s secret reason for being at the house. Remember that 15 pages is about the threshold for when audiences want something new in the story. And you can see that at play here. Every 15 pages or so a new development or new focus would emerge. This is what keeps a script from feeling repetitive.

And I just loved the way Conradt crafted the relationship between Jo and Andy – the way she uses his looks and sexuality to control and take advantage of her. (Spoiler) When they kiss, it was both terrifying and hypnotizing. And how Andy used that infatuation to encourage Jo’s distrust of Diane. It’s just this constantly evolving dynamic between the three that was perfectly executed.

About the only thing I didn’t go gaga over was the ending. The ending for these scripts is always difficult. And I’m not saying it was bad. It was actually better than average. But something felt off to me about the video phone stuff. It was the only moment in the script where I became aware of the writing, and unfortunately the ending is the most important moment of the script so it has to be seamless. We can’t be aware of the writer’s hand. If Conradt can somehow tweak this, this would be an unstoppable script. But even with that flaw, it’s still damn impressive.

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

What I learned: We’ve probably heard the groan-tastic “I’m pregnant” line 600 gabillion times in movies. It’s almost impossible for it to be uttered without a giant “CLICHÉ” sign flashing underneath. So always look for a visual way to convey “I’m pregnant” if possible. Later in the script, Jo spots a bunch of Diane’s books, and in the middle of them is “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” She quickly puts two and two together. Sure, it’s a little bit on the nose. But I’d much rather see that than Diane dramatically saying while they’re stuck in a dark room, “I’m pregnant.” Show don’t tell people!

Genre: Period Piece/Adventure
Premise: (from writers) 48 BC. When fanatics burn the Library of Alexandria to cover the theft of advanced technology, a naive engineering apprentice and a handful of displaced scholars must defeat the growing cult using scientific trickery of their own.
About: Every Friday, I review a script from the readers of the site. If you’re interested in submitting your script for an Amateur Review, send it in PDF form, along with your title, genre, logline, and why I should read your script to Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Keep in mind your script will be posted in the review (feel free to keep your identity and script title private by providing an alias and fake title). Also, it’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so that your submission stays near the top of the pile.
Writers: Aaron Greyson and Kate Foster
Details: 112 pages

So a lot of you are probably wondering why I picked this script today. I am not a swords and sandals guy by any means. But I’d read eight straight subpar scripts in a row (I hadn’t yet read The Imitation Game) and I was aching for something good. I knew if I picked the guy with 7 spelling mistakes in his query letter, even though he had a cool premise, it was going to be numero nineo. These two graduated from the UCLA writing program and even worked as readers in the industry. So I figured at the very least, they’d write something competent, and maybe even something great. So it was time to put on my toga and my “I Heart Socrates” shirt and get down to business. Caligula style. Well, maybe not Caligula style.

Alexandria was… different. It’s not bad, but the story takes a hell of a long time to get going, and is so heavily populated with characters that I found that fleshy computer between my ears overheating before I’d even hit the page 30 mark. I know I talk way too much about this, but people keep ignoring me so I’m going to talk about it again. If you include too many characters, the reader will start forgetting them. This goes double if it’s a period piece with a bunch of unfamiliar-sounding names. Ctesibius. Philokatres. Gnaeus. Makeda. Ptolemy. Athanas. You get the picture. I had to take metisibius notes in order to keep track of who was who. There’s always going to be a little work that goes into reading something like this. But the first order of business is still to entertain, so if I feel like the read is more work than play, I’m checking out.

Heron of Alexandria is a 20-year-old apprentice engineer who specializes in creating complex statues and puppeteering stages with lots of moving parts. His master is Philokatres, an imposing man who’s always quick to exert his dominance. They have the typical master and apprentice relationship where Heron believes he deserves more responsibility whereas Philokatres doesn’t think he’s ready.

The city is booming at the moment. Ptolemy XIII, the young pudgy future King, is having a great big birthday party and everybody has turned out to shake their btooty. I’m not sure if the Macarena had been invented yet, but if it had, they were doing it. We bounce around, meeting all the major players, including getting a glimpse of Cleopatra herself, when all of a sudden there’s a big argument.

I wish I could tell you what happened next but I’m not sure. All I know is that two sides were mad at each other – one of those sides taking up with Ptolemy and the other taking up with Cleopatra. This confused me because I thought Cleopatra was the queen and I thought you could never put a ‘t’ after a ‘p.’ So if Ptolemy was the future King, wouldn’t they be on the same side? Unless of course, I’m getting Ptolemy mixed up with somebody else whose name started with a P, which is very possible, and goes back to my problem of having so many characters with impossible to remember names.

Anyway, Heron and the rest of the scholars lock themselves inside the library and watch what started as a tiny skirmish turn into a giant battle. They eventually sneak out and migrate into the countryside to regroup. They do so at Philokatres’ countryside Villa, which is apparently huge, because a whole lot of people are staying there.

On the way there, they’re shocked to see a small army using a giant religious statue to scare towns into joining their cause. But the real surprise is that it’s HERON’S STATUE! He built it. And these guys have modified it to make noises and move a little more convincingly. When the ignorant come upon it, they assume it’s a God, and step in to line quickly. For those who don’t step in line, they’re slaughtered. Man do those Scientologists wish they had that kind of recruiting flexibility.

Back at the Villa, Heron befriends a slave girl and tries to recruit her, along with a bunch of others, to find out who this poser is who stole his statue, and stop him before he’s able to convert the entire continent. Little does he know that the person responsible for this façade is closer to him than he thinks.

First of all, this script was beautifully written. I have a ton of respect for people who are able to write in this genre. I can’t imagine how much you’d have to know about this time and this place and the people and the way they spoke in order to pull off anything even remotely convincing. Just the dialogue alone – I don’t know how you’d research that. I mean I’m pretty sure Cleopatra never texted Ctesibius with a “Yo Ctes. C u in 5?”

But the thing was, this script took soooooooooooooo long to get going. I’m always looking for when the main character’s goal emerges. That, to me, is the official start of the story. It’s when Shrek realizes he has to save the Princess in order to get his swamp back. It’s when Luke realizes he has to deliver the message to Princess Leia’s father. It’s when Alan Turing decides he wants to crack the Enigma Code. Here, I would designate that point as when Heron decides to find out who’s behind the statue and stop them. I don’t remember the exact page when that happened, but I’m pretty sure it was after page 50.

That’s a long time to wait for a story to begin. And I can be patient in the meantime if you build in little mini storylines that are interesting. But I just didn’t see that here. Where it really went South for me was the Villa. Just sending your characters to a Villa in the beautiful countryside alone makes it feel more like we’re on a vacation than in a movie. But then to hang out at that Villa for pages upon pages where nothing is happening just killed the script’s momentum.

And it highlighted a bigger problem. If they would have stayed at the Villa for the rest of the film, nothing bad would’ve happened to them. They would have been fine. Maybe eventually sometime in the future, 20 or 30 years from now, because they didn’t act, this religious cult would’ve swept over the Villa and destroyed it. But I’d hardly call that high stakes. I hardly sense the need to act now in order to save themselves.

If we bring back Shrek as an example. He had to leave because his sanctity was threatened. This is an ogre who lived a life of privacy. Being alone was what was most important to him. So he had to go on this journey or else he’d never have that again. It’s not clear to me why Heron needs to go on this journey other than that he’s curious.

So if I were Aaron and Kate, the first thing I would do is get to the point of this story faster. A lot faster. Identify the problem. Identify the main character’s goal. And then send him off to achieve that goal. In addition to this, create a scenario by which if he doesn’t act, his world will be threatened. Now your main character has to act, and if he doesn’t, he’s fucked.

Ideally, I would place Heron in one of these small towns to start off the story. Then I would have this religious cult with this huge statue come in, kill everybody who didn’t convert, take all the others, and have it so Heron was able to escape. All the people he loved were killed. So he gets together with a group of stragglers, the few others who were able to hide, and they go after these people. It just seems like this story would be so much more focused. As it is now, all of that stuff that goes on in Alexandria is backstory. I don’t think we need it.

Anyway, the writing itself was clean and easy to follow. I just would’ve loved something more streamlined. You’re already bumping up against conventional spec screenplay wisdom when you take on a time period like this. So if you’re going to do it, you want to make the story as audience-friendly and easy to follow as possible.

Having said all that, I did think the ending came together. It was fun that they had to use their minds in order to defeat this huge enemy as opposed to an army. I also liked the twist in the middle of the script when we find out who’s leading the army. It was unexpected and gave the story a jolt right when it needed it. Now if only we can move it along faster. Good luck on the next draft guys.

Script link: Alexandria

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

What I learned: In yesterday’s comments section, a few of you talked about getting into your scene as late as possible and getting out of your scene as early as possible. That exact same principle needs to be applied to your story itself. We need to get into the story as late as we possibly can. In my opinion, all the stuff that happens at Alexandria with the burning of the library and Cleopatra – it’s all backstory. It doesn’t have anything to do with the main story. The only time we ever see Cleopatra again is when we go there to ask her for help, to which she says, “Sorry. You’re on your own.” So why did we need that scene? We can have them be on their own without Cleopatra having to confirm it. The only other plot point I could think of that was set up in those opening pages was Heron’s statue. But do we really need 30 pages of backstory just to set up that one piece of information? I would ask if we even need to know that it’s Heron’s statue in the first place. I don’t think the story changes if it isn’t. It’s not like any knowledge he has of the machine plays into later parts of the screenplay. I suppose the fact that he knows it’s fake plays into it a little bit. But I’m not sure he needs to have created the machine to figure that out. So let’s start this story later – when our characters first encounter this cult. Now we’ve established the problem, and we can begin our character’s journey to stop it.

So last week we talked about adding conflict to scenes. Today, we’re gonna take that one step further and talk about specific ways to improve your scenes. Now the majority of what makes a scene great comes from what you’ve done beforehand. The structure of your story. The development of your characters. How you craft your relationships. You have to set all that stuff up in order to pay it off later. For example, the Jack Rabbit Slims scene in Pulp Fiction doesn’t work if it’s the first scene in the movie. It works because of what’s been set up beforehand. That said, every writer should carry around a bag of tricks for when their scenes aren’t working. Don’t have a bag of tricks? Not to worry. I’m about to give you one. Here are 10 tricks you can use to make your scenes kick ass.

ADD A GOAL TO THE SCENE
Well surprise surprise. Here we have another article and Carson’s harping on about that “goal” thing again. Well hold onto your seat sister, because this might be the most important advice I give you all day. In short, a goal gives a scene focus. Just like a goal gives a movie focus. Say you have two characters at a bar. You need to get in some exposition about how one of them is having troubles at work. Problem is, random conversation gets boring fast. However, if you switch the scene around so that your hero needs a solution (goal) for this work problem before tomorrow morning, now all of a sudden your scene has purpose. Both characters are working towards a common goal. You can still throw in a bunch of funny banter, along with necessary exposition, but since you’ve established that there’s a purpose (a goal) to the scene, we’ll be more interested in what they’re talking about. Adding goals to scenes is one of the easiest ways to make them more interesting.

TURN THE SCENE INTO A SITUATION
I got this one from the billionaire screenwriters over at Wordplayer. Remember, every single scene should be entertaining on some level – even exposition scenes. That means instead of just pushing your plot along, push it along in as entertaining a way as possible. Let’s look at Back To The Future. There’s a scene early on where Marty stumbles into town and must find out where 1950s Doc lives. So he goes into the diner, looks him up in the phone book, and finds the address. Technically, that’s all you need to get Marty to the next scene. So the scene’s over. Right? Well, no. Because it’s boring. There’s no situation there. It’s just a character moving from point A to point B. So Zemeckis and Gale throw on their creative caps and get to work. Marty runs into his father, who’s being bullied by Biff. We get a fun scene where they meet each other for the first time and then Marty has his first confrontation with the movie’s villain. You’ve taken a simple plot-point scene and you’ve turned it into a situation. Now this might seem obvious in retrospect. Of course Marty runs into his dad and Biff. The story can’t work without it. But when you’re staring at a blank page, you don’t see all that stuff yet. You have to find it. So if your scene feels thin or boring, turning it into a situation is definitely going to spice it up. And who knows, you might just find an exciting new plot direction along with it.

ADD A THIRD CHARACTER
This is an old but effective trick. A quick way to make a scene between two people more interesting is to add a third person. A great example of this is in Notting Hill. It’s the scene where William goes to talk to Anna (Julia Roberts) but her press junket is running late. Will is ushered into her room under the assumption that he’s a journalist. Now if you would’ve played this scene with just two characters, the dialogue would’ve been on the nose and boring. “Thanks for coming.” “You’re welcome. What are you up to?” “Nothing. How about you?” Borrrrrrrring. So instead, they keep sending Anna’s handler into the room to check up on them, forcing William to keep up the façade that he’s a journalist. He has to come up with questions. He has to pretend like he’s seen the movie. It adds a ton of flavor to what otherwise would’ve been an average scene. The trick is, you want the third person to agitate matters. They have to complicate things somehow. That’s where you get your entertainment.

UP THE STAKES IN THE SCENE
Hey, this may sound familiar. What are the stakes of your scene? Because if nobody in the scene has anything on the line, there’s a good chance you’ve just sent your characters to Boringsville. How do you know if the stakes are high? Ask yourself: Does my character lose anything significant if he doesn’t get what he wants? Also: Does my character gain anything significant if he gets what he wants? Look at the famous scene in The Princess Bride where the Man In Black swordfights Enigo Montaya. Both characters have an incredible amount at stake. If the Man In Black loses, he won’t be able to save the life of his true love. If Enigo Montaya loses, he’ll never be able to avenge his father’s death. That’s why that swordfight is so exciting. Contrast that with any of the hundreds of swordfights in the Pirates Of The Caribbean franchise where we feel nothing, because either we don’t know what’s at stake or what’s at stake is so murky that we don’t care. Not every scene will have astronomical stakes, but you can always make a scene better by upping the stakes.

DRAMATIC IRONY
This is hands down one of the best ways to juice up a scene. Give the audience knowledge that someone in your scene – or group of people in your scene – don’t know. This is the often referred to “bomb under the table” scenario. If two people are talking at a table, it’s boring. But if two people are talking at a table and we know there’s a bomb underneath about to go off, it’s interesting. Just remember, the bomb can be anything. Let’s say you’re writing a horror movie and your beautiful 20-year-old heroine is coming home after a night out. She comes into her apartment, puts her things away, washes her face, gets ready for bed, and as she opens her closet to throw her clothes in, a man leaps out and tackles her. Hmmm, that’s pretty boring. Let’s go back and do that same scene over again, except this time, before she walks in, show us that the man is inside the house, waiting for her ahead of time. Ohhhhhhh. Okay. Now we have dramatic irony. We know she’s in trouble but she doesn’t. Even the most mundane act – washing her face – becomes interesting. Dramatic irony people. It’s a writer’s best friend.

ADD A TICKING TIME BOMB
Any time you add urgency to a scene, everything about the scene becomes more exciting. That’s because urgency creates pressure. And dialogue and action will always be more interesting under pressure. For example, let’s say you wanted to write a scene where your married couple was discussing their problems. The obvious way to do this would be to throw them at the dinner table and let them go at it. Hmmm. You can obviously make this work. But consider how much more entertaining that conversation might be if you place it during breakfast with one of the characters (or both) late for work. Now they’re rushing around, trying to get ready, while having this intense conversation. Because we know the conversation has to end soon, it’s elevated to a new level. We feel all that emotion and tension at a higher decibel level.

PLACE YOUR CHARACTER SOMEWHERE HE OR SHE DOESN’T WANT TO BE
Remember, if there are too many scenes in your movie where your character is comfortable, there’s a good chance your movie is getting BORRRRRRRRRING. An easy way to add tension to a scene is to put your character in a situation they don’t want to be in. The Deli Scene from The Wrestler that I highlighted the other week is a good example. The last place The RAM wants to be is at that deli. You can see this in a lot of scenes. The Cantina scene in Star Wars. They don’t want to be there. It’s dangerous. Lester Burnham being dragged to his wife’s real estate convention. He doesn’t want to be there. You obviously have to mix in scenes where characters are happy in order to set up those moments, but just remember, you have to keep making your characters uncomfortable or else the situations they’re in become boring.

WANT
Make sure you know what each character wants in your scene. The stronger you can make that want, and the more that “want” conflicts with the other character’s “want,” the more entertaining a scene you’re going to write. So let’s say your main character wants to ask the Starbucks cashier out on a date. That’s his want. So the character gets up to the cashier, and his side of the conversation is very strong, but for some reason, the cashier’s side is boring and lifeless. Why is this? It’s likely because you don’t know what she wants. Maybe she’s at the end of a double shift and all she can think about is getting home. Immediately your scene becomes more interesting. Your hero has been prepping for this moment all week, and she won’t even look at him because she keeps glancing at her watch and that clock up on the wall. Even when she is looking at him, she doesn’t care because her “want” is so strong. Any time you have two strong conflicting wants in a scene, chances are you have an interesting scene.

ELIMINATE THE DIALOGUE
Forcing yourself to come up with a visual solution instead of a spoken solution can do wonders for a scene. How do you accomplish this? Start off by asking yourself, what’s the point of this scene? Then, instead of trying to convey the answer through dialogue, do it visually, through action. Show us. Don’t tell us. For example, say you want to convey that a girl is frustrated with her father. The obvious way to do this would be to have her dad ask her why she’s been quiet lately. She tells him he wasn’t around last week when she needed him most. Things get heated. She eventually storms off saying something to the effect of, “You’re such an asshole.” Instead, why not write a scene where she’s in her bedroom and hears her dad coming. She quickly grabs her headphones, throws them on, and pretends to do homework. He peeks in, sees she’s busy, and leaves. If you really wanted to drive it home, maybe she gives him the finger after he leaves. Now the truth is, in this day and age, you’re not going to have many scenes without dialogue. But you’d be surprised at how much better your scene becomes when you approach it from a “show don’t tell” perspective. You’ll probably end up adding dialogue back in, but the scene will have a more visual flair and therefore be better.

ADD AN OBSTACLE
Something we’re all guilty of in our scenes is having tunnel vision. We know what we want out of the scene, so we write a straightforward version of it. For example, if we’re writing a breakup scene, we simply write our character break up with the other character. The scene does what it’s supposed to do so we’re happy. But in the end, the scene feels flat. A breakup is supposed to be an entertaining moment. Why is ours so boring? It’s likely because the scene is too predictable – too straightforward. You need to add an obstacle, a twist, something unexpected. For example, in Say Anything, Diane is going to break up with Lloyd. But as she’s preparing to do it, Lloyd goes into this big thing about how much he likes her and how they’re going to do all these things together and he tells her about the letter he wrote her. All of a sudden, breaking up isn’t so easy. And it’s all because we added a little obstacle – an unexpected roadblock. I think whenever a scene is too easy, you should be looking to add some sort of obstacle to throw the scene out of balance.

I guarantee that these tools will improve your scenes. It has to be the right fit for the right scene, but the solution to one of your yucky scenes is probably listed above. The only thing left is to figure out tip number 11. I’m gonna leave that one up to you guys. What tricks or methods do you use to improve your scenes? Maybe we can come up with the ultimate list and sell all of our screenplays to Fox by the weekend. Suggestions in the comments section please. :-)