So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

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  • So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

    Interested to know
    "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."
    -Maya Angelou

  • #2
    Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

    I learned about the importance of premise.

    I mean, I already knew it was the most important element of screenwriting, but this year that point was driven home for me in a major way.

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

      I learned that I cannot write a 9 page intro scene like Aaron Sorkin. 1) I cannot because I'm not Aaron Sorkin. 2) I cannot because I'm not Aaron Sorkin.


      Also, I learned that underlining different words of a sentence can reveal different meaning.

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

        I learned that I liked SS's Nicholson's avatar better than the current one.

        I learned that the odds of succeeding are far worse than I ever thought they were, which was already pretty bad

        I learned to look closely at just one scene, and to ask myself, OK, how can I make the scene stronger?

        It's not just that there's a volcano erupting on your ass and that you gotta get the hell out of there. It's that it's erupting and you can't find your car keys. Bummer! Then you find your car keys and... you drop them! Double bummer! Then you finally put them in the ignition and... the car won't start! Triple bummer!

        The thing is, a volcano erupting is already pretty darn dramatic. Most of us don't experience that on a daily basis. So maybe in the first draft, you think that's already suspenseful enough. But then you keep adding, and the tension keeps building.

        I don't typically have a lot of that kind of stuff going on in my scripts, but when I wrote about a chick getting attacked by a scorpion, it really came in handy. I delayed the victory and added a second moment of horror. In hopefully not a cliche way, i.e. you think it's dead but it's really not!!!

        Not only did I learn that from reading advice here and there, including on DD, but by watching shows like 24, which in my opinion rules when it comes to adding layer upon layer of conflict, tension and threat.

        Also, I think an emotional payoff for the audience is a nice thing to watch out for.

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

          That sounds a lot like this thing I wrote on Kristy's blog way back when (re: problems I see in a lot of scripts; this was #4):

          Not pushing scenes and individual beats/moments within scenes far enough. Terry Rossio has a great column called Scene Character (http://www.wordplayer.com/columns/wp...Character.html) in which he talks about the importance of giving each of your scenes flavor, uniqueness, and an identity of its own, the same way you would your characters. A lot of newer writers have an idea for a scene and what the scene is supposed to accomplish but write it in a very linear manner, communicating all of the basic points and moving on. These scenes lack depth of conflict, the creation of hope vs. fear in the audience, a “back and forth” rhythm between characters and each other and/or between characters and their environment. As such, these types of scenes are bland; they don’t really burst to life on the page. I’ve seen a lot of obvious missed opportunities to add some emotional depth to scenes because the writer was content just getting the major idea or conflict across. A series of scenes like this (most commonly exploring clichéd territory, especially in comedies) add up to a screenplay that feels more like an outline for what could be a good script than an actual script. The important moments don’t resonate. And a lot of individual beats within scenes aren’t mined for conflict that is obvious within the context of the scene. In many cases, the resolution of the conflict is one dimensional: either the character overcomes the obstacle easily or the obstacle gets the better of the character easily. Either way, it’s not really a dramatically viable scene—there’s no push and pull to it.

          A crude example off the top of my head: Let’s say you have a character who discovers that his best friends, a married couple, have been murdered in their apartment. Now obviously this would play differently in different genres, but let’s pretend we’re writing a thriller. A common way to approach this scene would be to have the protagonist bust down the door to the apartment, see that his friends have been slaughtered by The Killer, reel back into the hallway and throw up. Okay, that’s a scene. In a way. But as Terry Rossio says, the screenwriter hasn’t really done his job there. It’s an outline beat. A suggestion for a scene. Even if it’s worded beautifully, it’s still not really evocative of a movie. What if, instead, you start with the protagonist, who already senses that something is amiss with his friends, attempting to open their door but finding that it’s locked. He then tries to call them with his cell phone and hears a distinct ring tone coming from inside the apartment, but no one answers. Since the protagonist is not one to bust down doors (you’ve already established that he’s a cautious type), he wakes up the grumpy super and has to argue with him to get him to unlock the door because the super doesn’t believe anything is really wrong. But the protagonist finally convinces him, and as the super is opening the door, he mumbles something about how those kids are always out partying and how they probably just forgot their phones… and then he blanches when he sees what’s inside, which the protagonist doesn’t see right away. (Note how you now have another character for the protagonist to play off of). The protagonist then pushes past the super and rushes into the apartment, only to see his two best friends butchered in the most grotesque manner. He’s in shock, but he nonetheless spots something next to their bodies: a key piece of evidence—a payoff to a plant from earlier. Something that might tell him who the killer is, perhaps. So now he’s forced to approach the mutilated bodies of his two best friends in order to get a closer look at that object. He does, repulsed every moment he remains in that apartment. But when he sees the object up close, it confirms the killer’s identity (or so he thinks at the time). Now in a state of utter revulsion, but with a new piece of the mystery puzzle, he spins around to get the hell out of the apartment and slips in a pool of blood (okay, that’s a cliché—you can do better), dropping face first to the floor. In a frenzy, he slides and scrambles past the still stunned super and out into the hallway, where he loses his shit.


          Now, that’s a crude, quick example, but note how it dramatizes the scene rather than just plays it out. The protagonist is struggling with his environment, he has tasks (open the door, call the couple, convince the super to open the door, get a closer look at the object, get the hell out of the apartment) and obstacles (the door is locked, the cell phone rings but no one answers, the super is grumpy and unwilling to help the protag at first, the object is right next to the corpse of his best friend, the pool of blood makes his exit hard, he makes an important discovery at the worst possible moment). And with more brainstorming, a writer could come up with a version that’s [much] better than that.


          In other words, what I see in a lot of scripts are writers putting down what was most likely the first version of a scene that sprang to mind. The problem is that the first version is often flat, superficial and reliant on clichés.

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

            Good points.

            I think the opening of The Fugitive does a great job of showing two things (the murder and the arrest) at the same time. Not sure if it was written like that, but it shows the audience exactly what happened without resorting to the cliches inherent in a murder/arrest. AND it gets us into the story almost immediately, without wasting 10 minutes on the setup.

            Actually, The Fugitive is a great example of escalating conflict/tension because it all happens organically; from the character motivations/circumstances the characters find themselves in. The movie had me on board the exact second Jones said, "I don't care."

            HH

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

              I learned from a pro that every exceptional good hi-con screenplay must have the 3 Bs -- the Bulletin, the Brain, and the Balls.

              The bulletin -- Extra Extra!! Dishonest lawyer magically winds up telling the truth!!

              The brain -- His honesty gets him into all kinds of trouble with each incident zanier than the last!

              The balls -- lawyer must man up for the benefit of his loved ones and learn that the truth can be healing and liberating!
              "I ask every producer I meet if they need TV specs they say yeah. They all want a 40 inch display that's 1080p and 120Hz. So, I quit my job at the West Hollywood Best Buy."
              - Screenwriting Friend

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                Originally posted by WriteByNight View Post
                Interested to know
                Concept, concept, concept. More now than ever.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                  Yes.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                    I feel embarrassed because this is so basic, yet many writers like myself have a hard time getting it. And it's probably the #1 rule of screenwriting. You have to respect your characters. You can't trash them for the hell of it.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                      I learned to take procrastination and excuses for not writing to new heights. And that in 2011, I should probably actually write something, rather than merely think about writing something.

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                        OK, so you want to milk a scene for all dramatic possibility, but how do you decide whether such embellishment is worth an extra page and a half of script? Short and sweet, right?

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Re: So, What Have We Learned About SW in 2010?

                          Originally posted by sumokurt1 View Post
                          OK, so you want to milk a scene for all dramatic possibility, but how do you decide whether such embellishment is worth an extra page and a half of script? Short and sweet, right?

                          Actually, I think you'll find you are saving space if anything.


                          Using Super Dupers example...

                          "A crude example off the top of my head: Let’s say you have a character who discovers that his best friends, a married couple, have been murdered in their apartment. Now obviously this would play differently in different genres, but let’s pretend we’re writing a thriller. A common way to approach this scene would be to have the protagonist bust down the door to the apartment, see that his friends have been slaughtered by The Killer, reel back into the hallway and throw up. Okay, that’s a scene. In a way. But as Terry Rossio says, the screenwriter hasn’t really done his job there. It’s an outline beat. A suggestion for a scene. Even if it’s worded beautifully, it’s still not really evocative of a movie. What if, instead, you start with the protagonist, who already senses that something is amiss with his friends, attempting to open their door but finding that it’s locked. He then tries to call them with his cell phone and hears a distinct ring tone coming from inside the apartment, but no one answers. Since the protagonist is not one to bust down doors (you’ve already established that he’s a cautious type), he wakes up the grumpy super and has to argue with him to get him to unlock the door because the super doesn’t believe anything is really wrong. But the protagonist finally convinces him, and as the super is opening the door, he mumbles something about how those kids are always out partying and how they probably just forgot their phones… and then he blanches when he sees what’s inside, which the protagonist doesn’t see right away. (Note how you now have another character for the protagonist to play off of). The protagonist then pushes past the super and rushes into the apartment, only to see his two best friends butchered in the most grotesque manner. He’s in shock, but he nonetheless spots something next to their bodies: a key piece of evidence—a payoff to a plant from earlier. Something that might tell him who the killer is, perhaps. So now he’s forced to approach the mutilated bodies of his two best friends in order to get a closer look at that object. He does, repulsed every moment he remains in that apartment. But when he sees the object up close, it confirms the killer’s identity (or so he thinks at the time). Now in a state of utter revulsion, but with a new piece of the mystery puzzle, he spins around to get the hell out of the apartment and slips in a pool of blood (okay, that’s a cliché—you can do better), dropping face first to the floor. In a frenzy, he slides and scrambles past the still stunned super and out into the hallway, where he loses his ****."



                          My expansion:

                          The item is a cell phone, they were trying to call the protag. Blood has been wiped off the face of the phone revealing the protags phone number. Why did the murderer leave the phone becomes a dramatic "Mamet" question.

                          Or another:

                          The item belongs to a mutual friend, a friend that the protag just drove to the train station. The train is leaving in an hour. The protag on top of other things is pissed at himself for not getting what was going on.


                          With all due thanks and or apologies to Super.

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