As much as I loved it for its characters and situations, my first screenplay turned out to be 132 pages long, twelve pages over the 120 page limit for screenplays.  I knew that I had to cut it down to size and began the editing process.  I came to the conclusion that I was trying to throw too much into one screenplay.  As an excited amateur, I tried to stuff all these ideas I had into 120 pages, and it wasn’t going to work. I also found that many elements of the story weren’t working together.  I was trying to force a lot of situations that just didn’t seem all that natural.

DO I NEED FRANK?

One thing I noticed in particular was my struggle to close a character’s storyline.  His name was Frank, and he was supposed to be ultimately revealed as a figment of the protagonist’s imagination, a fractured creation of his mind due to the trauma of the experiences we see him go through.
I found it wiser to question whether or not I needed Frank. He was something that I fumbled with, something that just would not fit.  It was in my issues with Frank that I realized something important.  Frank may have been memorable, but he was extraneous to the overall plot.  He was a shortcut to explain certain things about the protagonist.  I had taken the cheap way out.  And because of that, ultimately Frank was cut out of the screenplay, and the story reworked.  The lesson that I learned here: All characters must exist for a reason, and a good one.

So, to elaborate on the topic of those who inhabit the world you are creating for an audience: my expertise is in the creation of unique and interesting characters.  These characters are fueled by my real life observations of all the people around me.  By simply opening up my eyes and ears, I overhear little tidbits of conversations of real people who are leading real lives, all with very authentic and genuine emotions.  I like to think that each individual is just that: an individual.  I find out what makes them unique, what drives them to do the things that they do.
In learning these things about a person, you can create a character in the same way.  Use your imagination.  Why does your protagonist do the things he does, why are those emotions in his heart?  Keep asking yourself why.  In the same way that you get to know a person, become very intimate with your character.

THE ROUNDABOUT WAY

Great characters are not all a good screenplay needs.  As great as I was at introducing quirks and writing a unique voice for each of my characters, my screenplays often lacked a strong structure.

I’m a very verbose and structureless person.  And it’s reflected in my writing and my screenplays.  Considering that it’s in my nature to tell stories in a way that are rather indirect and in a roundabout way, changing my writing style was one of my greatest challenges.  If you asked me how to get to the Trump International Hotel in Manhattan, I’d probably tell you that you could go take the D train to 59th St-Columbus Circle stop.  I know this because I used to work the area as an outside salesman.  You get up from the station, and look north.  Across the street and down a block is a store that I made my first sale for that company.  And boy, let me tell you, it was quite a thrill.  From that day on, I decided that I would become the best salesman ever and learn to close 90% of the time.  That’s how I ended up coming across this book entitled Influence, which I bought on Amazon.  Did you know that Amazon has some of the best prices?  You can even get free shipping and…..

And somewhere along the way, I’d forget to tell you precisely how to get there.  Though you’d end up with a great story about my experience as a salesman, you’d also probably be thinking, “Okay…well, that’s great, but how do I get to the hotel?”

The same goes for your screenplay: each moment in your screenplay must be moving towards something.  Your screenplay may have great character depth, but if those characters have no clear direction, your audience will become uninterested and bored as they watch you wander around with the hero in a disjointed fashion.  As such, you have to create a compelling and dramatic story.  Remember to ask yourself, where am I going with this scene?  Does it enhance the drama?  What does it show the audience?

A screenplay is not just pages and pages of dialogue taking place in various locations.  Nor is it simply a pair of talking heads.  It is the blueprint for a film, the culmination of dramatic story telling and compelling characters.  It is an emotional experience.  It is cinema.

INT. LUANNE’S APARTMENT – DAY

Later that day I meet up with Luanne and tell her about my dream.  I am a little hesitant to tell her about the extended hug.  But I tell her everything and lay it out for her, shot by shot.  As I finish recounting my dream to her, she replies with a sophomoric, “Ewww…”  I was right: she’s not very sensitive.  I make a mental note: if I ever need an insensitive and unfeminine figure in my screenplay, I’ll look to Luanne.

-Terry Ip
Self-styled perennial student of film working towards a career with a pension.

Jason Kottke was tipped off on some scripts of The Wire that are accessible through an online file server.

The Wire is to my taste (and many others) the best TV drama you will find.

Aspiring screenwriter Terrence ponders over a question that has bugged all of us at some point: ”Is screenwriting for me?”

Post: Terrence
Editor: Cleo Mees

The bustling streets of lower Manhattan. Ubiquitous blue planks of wood, held up by rusty bars of steel. A pedestrian crowd waves in and out of the shade falling from the skyscrapers.

CU of LUANNE, emerging from the crowd.

PULL BACK to reveal her blue sunflower-print dress. With a big smile, she waves from across the street.

Luanne walks against the crowd and crosses the street to meet ME. We hug for a long time. She gives me a warm grab of the arms. I relax into her and hold on tight. But she breaks off contact and I slouch, rejected.

She walks off and disappears back into the crowd.

LONG SHOT of me, standing still as the crowd floods around me. I become indiscernible. CUT TO BLACK.

Fade in.

This is me waking up from a dream. For the longest time, I have dreamed in a cinematic format. From framing to camera angles to cuts and fades, even sound mixing, my dreams were the stuff of film.

I only started becoming cognizant of these little quirks when I stumbled across the special features on some DVD that I can no longer recall.  It talked about framing shots, creating movement, and a lot more.  I had no idea what a lot of these cinematic principals were at the time, but it certainly opened up my eyes to the true art of motion picture.  After watching those special features I understood that every frame of that movie was by design.  Every shot, every cut, every dolly in and every close up, they were put there for a reason.

When Netflix blessed me with a service center that was not 5 miles away from me, I became obsessed with movies.  I loved rating the movies that I watched.  After all, Netflix did provide viewing suggestions based on your ratings.  By the end of a couple of months, I had rated over 800 movies, and within a year I had watched and rated more than a thousand movies.  At first, they merely served as entertainment, sometimes a distraction from the hustle and bustle and pain of daily life.  But then I started to become more of a discerning consumer.  I started to take an active interest in films.  I started noticing how there would often be shots of actors only from the chest up.  Sometimes one actor’s face would fill nearly the entire frame.  And then sometimes their presence on the screen was a small one, a small dot in the center of an aerial shot.

IS SCREENWRITING FOR ME?

Not having a formal education in film as an art form, I was a self-proclaimed student of film by way of self-study.  My education consisted of my own observations and notes about the hundreds of movies I had watched…Until the day came when I had to register for classes at my college.  It wasn’t a liberal arts college, so I was rather excited to see that there was a new class being offered.  It was Drama 106: Introduction to Film Appreciation.  Boy was I ecstatic!

Throughout the semester, we watched and studied films like The Cabinet of Dr. Galligari, Citizen Kane, Nosferatu, and surprisingly even The Graduate.  As we progressed through the syllabus, I gained a new appreciation for film.  I came to learn the lingo used in film and why we see two-shots, close-ups, how high angles and low angles are used.  I learned about mise en scene, lighting, the use of sound.  I absorbed all of this new knowledge with a great enthusiasm and appreciation.

Shortly after the semester’s end, I began penning a screenplay.  I noticed that the format felt incredibly natural to me.  Scenes started with a time and a place, new characters were introduced, dialogue was written.  The flow of it came easily – everything just seemed to make sense in a movie.  In fact, I saw my life as fitting into little scenes.  Before entering a classroom, I thought to myself, INT. CLASSROOM – DAY.  People became characters to me, and I studied them as such. I remembered bits and pieces of people I saw, be they bums on the street corner or a pretty lady in the New York City subway.

The question this leads us to is, how do you know if screenwriting is for you?  It may not come as naturally to you as it did for me.  I feel that the only way to see if the format is a good fit for you is to go and try to write one.  Just write out a story that you’d like to tell and put it into a screenplay format.  Also, find something that interests you, something that you’re passionate about.  Authenticity comes from real experience and expertise.

-Terry Ip
Self-styled perennial student of film working towards a career with a pension.

Since writing the below post, I have come to realise that the mid point may well be the last checkpoint to make sure you have the most powerful story you can get.

I believe the mid point can only exist if everything else works. Without knowing exactly what the outer objective is (Turning Point 1) and how the character changes (Turning Point 2) it is impossible to create the right mid point. The mid point changes the direction of the visible goal (Outer Journey), sometimes it completely changes the goal altogether. It also accelerates the Inner Journey as the protagonist is now committed to resolving the Need.

I have added some notes on THE INCREDIBLES and THE LIVES OF OTHERS to the examples below.

Many unsuccessful movies run out of steam halfway. Even a fair few memorable pics are weak in the middle, or have a ’soft belly’. The Second Act seems to be the hardest nut to crack. But why? Perhaps because the protagonist is chasing the same objective all along? After all we have a massive chunk of script to fill, about an hour of screentime on average. One remedy is to chop the movie up in quarters. First and last act are roughly one quarter each already, so Act Two we just cut in two.

It’s variously called the mid-act climax, the mid-point, first culmination or the mid-point reversal. I prefer the latter, although it is not always a strict 180 degree turn. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a climax either but it must be a ‘major turning point’. Things will be dramatically different from this point onwards.

Syd Field describes it something like this: “An important scene in the middle of the script, often a reversal of fortune or revelation that changes the direction of the story.” Field suggests that driving the story towards the Midpoint keeps the second act from sagging. For once I find Field more helpful than others. An executive at the talent agency ICM is trying to get his head around it:

“An event occurs wherein the character cannot give up his pursuit. It is a “no turning back point.” The bridge has been burned behind him (figuratively speaking), and he can only move forward. Often, this is manifested as a TICKING CLOCK. In classically structure (sic) romantic comedies, this is the point where the man and woman sleep together.” Hmmm… Not sure about that last one.

Here’s my favourite definition, from Frank Daniel:

“Mid-Point or First Culmination: a Major Reversal of fortune, making Main Character’s task even more difficult. Often, give the audience a very clear glimpse of an answer to the Central Dramatic Question “‘ the hope that Main Character will actually succeed at resolving his problem “‘ only to see circumstances turn the story the other way. First Culmination may be a glimpse at the actual resolution of the picture, or its mirror opposite.”

Let’s look at a few examples to understand the mid point better:

THE UNTOUCHABLES – Not only a well-structured, commercial movie with a top notch cast; it has a midpoint that ticks all three boxes: After a shootout on the Canadian border far away from the crime-ridden streets of Chicago, Eliot Ness and his team find out they can get to Capone through his accountant.

The mid-point sequence happens halfway the movie (ironically, not all midpoints really do), it changes the course of the story (Ness is no longer after Capone but after his accountant) and it takes place in a very different environment/change of scenery from the rest of the movie. And indeed: catching the accountant does get Capone in court. Important for the Inner Journey at this point is Ness’ response to the criticism on the way Malone forces a confession out of one of Capone’s men. When he says “Well, you’re not from Chicago”, it proves Ness is now open to approaching things ‘the Chicago Way’, as taught by his mentor Malone.

JAWS – It’s more than thirty years old and scary as ever, and not because of its state-of-the-art FX. Look closely and you’ll see: that plastic shark is a big joke! This is one piece of brilliant writing. Police Chief Brody (Roy Scheider) has been unsuccessful in trying to stop the shark killings by urging the mayor to close the beaches. When his own son narrowly escapes death, he is forced to change tactics (different direction): he must go and attack the shark in its own habitat. It brings a fresh turn to the movie with a change of scenery and the stakes are heightened because we are now fighting the killer on his own territory. What’s more: the protagonist is under greater jeopardy because he can’t swim. At Brody’s Inner Journey mid point, he is committed to tackle things at the core in stead of dealing with the symptoms. See also my notes at the bottom of the structural overview of Jaws.

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST – In his book THE SEQUENCE APPROACH, Paul Gulino mentions another function of the midpoint: it gives the protagonist a flavour of the possible outcome of the story (Frank Daniel’s “glimpse of an answer to the Central Dramatic Question“). Here, Nicholson’s character tastes freedom when he takes the patients out on a trip. The reality however is that after this point he learns he may never leave the asylum again. A powerful reversal: rather than proving he’s insane, he now has to try and get out. The scene/sequence of the mad men’s outing is another beautiful example of a change of scenery. At one stage during the edit, director Milos Forman cut the sequence out. About the result he says: “I cut it down television style, under two hours. And you know what was funny? It felt much longer.”

I wouldn’t necessarily call the following movies class examples but I’ll give them any way because their mid-points worked really well for me:

THE PARALLAX VIEW – Bang in the middle of this classic conspiracy thriller, Warren Beatty’s character undergoes a five minute brainwashing. The scene is borderline unbearable and would have probably been cut by today’s studio heads. We undergo the character’s psychological torture first hand while we stare at the seemingly random images, exactly like the protagonist experiences them. After this, Beatty’s character is no longer the curious outsider vs. the mysterious corporation; he is fighting the system from within, which will ultimately lead to his demise.

GIU LA TESTA (A FISTFUL OF DYNAMITE) – Very much like in THE PARALLAX VIEW, we share the point of view of Rod Steiger’s character Juan while he watches what will cause a major change in his personality and in the course of the movie. At the very midpoint in the movie Juan witnesses a lengthy, traumatic shootout with a life-changing effect: from a mindless and merciless robber dreaming of the ultimate big heist he has now become a freedom fighter and finally commits to the cause of his alter-ego Sean (incarnated wonderfully by James Coburn).

THE QUEEN – The Queen is stuck in the lonely hills near Balmoral, her Land Rover having let her down. Without help from anybody she is out of her comfort zone when she notices the dear her grandsons have been stalking, upon her own advice and encouragement. A moment of realisation (with a lot of symbolism) leads to the decision to chase the dear away in an attempt to save its life from the hunters. The parallel with Princess Diana’s end becomes even more apparent when it turns out the deer was shot by a group of hunters after a chase on a neighbouring land (France?). The Queen has witnessed something that has changed her view and we see it externalised in her lukewarm response to the Queen Mother’s statements about the British people in a following scene.

NORTH BY NORTHWEST – The single most memorably scene of this film sits right in the very middle: the famous cropduster scene. Again, an entirely new setting in the movie, with hardly any other characters around. While most of the movie is rather talky, this sequence offers pure visual cinema with minimal sound design, then gradually picking up the pace and finally (literally) exploding in a symphony of action and music. The reversal: Roger Thornhill learns that Eve has betrayed him.

THE INCREDIBLES – Mister Incredible has successfully completed the task he travelled to the Special World for: eliminating the evil robot. Now, for the first time he is about to meet with his employer.

The reversal happens when his mission turns out to have been a setup to get him killed. The employer is effectively his arch-enemy Syndrome and the mid point delivers two major reversals: 1) in stead of staying on the island, he will have to escape 2) in stead of working alone, he’ll have to collaborate with his family.

THE LIVES OF OTHERS – In the first half of this 2007 Oscar winning drama, Captain Wiesler tries to expose the suspected playwright Dreyer to satisfy his superior at the Stasi (the former Eastern German State Security Service). While listening to a phone call, he learns that Dreyers best friend and mentor has committed suicide. Wiesler realises his work is not doing the good he had always believed it would. He is effectively killing people. When Dreyer plays the piano music he received as a gift from his mentor, Wiesler is so moved that he decides to not expose but protect Dreyer from this point on. To my taste, this is one of the most wonderful and moving mid points in cinema in recent years.

In my earlier blog “STRUCTURING THE FACTS” I briefly mention the midpoint reversal in UNITED 97: The passengers learn this is a suicide flight, therefore they have to change their tactics from trying to notify their relatives on the ground to actively fight back the terrorists.

The start of Act Two is a good place to move to the antagonist’s POV.

We have just seen that our protagonist is ready to take on the main mission of the film. He knows what he is up against, he may even have a plan on how to approach it.

At the beginning of Act Two, you can immediately increase the stakes by creating dramatic irony. You show the protagonist only knows half of the truth and the antagonist is really a lot more powerful and the protagonist may be missing a crucial piece of information.

The shift can happen to any other character, exceptionally even to an omniscient POV. But the most powerful and most frequently used POV outside the protagonist will be that of the antagonist.

Almost always does this increase the stakes as you show how well the villain is prepared, how much stronger this character is than we (and the protagonist) believed and what he/she is capable of.

One of my favourite Act Two opening scenes is in NORTH BY NORTHWEST. Roger Thornhill has to clear his name of the UN murder and he must find out why he is being mistaken for the mysterious Mr. Roger Kaplan.

At the opening of Act Two we are in a boardroom full of unknown faces. The audience’s instinctive reaction will be to find a character to empathise with, to latch on to. None such in this scene.

This is the Secret Service, discussing a fictitious agent, created by them as a decoy for the spies. Now Roger Thornhill has been identified by the spies as this imaginary agent, the secret’s service’s plan works better than hoped for.

Not only do we now know Thornhill’s predicament, we also realise he cannot expect any support from the government as confirmed in the last line of the scene, spoken by one of the agents:

SECRET AGENT
Goodbye, Mr. Thornhill, wherever you are.

This scene shows how powerful a shift of POV can be to reveal an important piece of information the protagonist doesn’t have.

Another favorite example of dramatic irony created by a shifting point of view is taken from ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST and it constitutes the Mid Point Reversal.

McMurphy has just been on a fishing trip with his mates, sampling freedom outside the asylum.

The next scene shows the staff of the asylum discussing his fate, whether they should send him back to the work farm or keep him. McMurphy’s antagonist nurse Ratched drives the scene and the outcome is disastrous: he will stay in the asylum indefinitely.

See also:

Introduction to POV
Omniscient POV
Shifting POV
When to Shift?
POV in Ratatouille’s Deleted Scene
POV as Controller of Tone

Commercial common sense will tell you: yes, you should.

Robert McKee says: “Tell the truth.” (see the previous post)

McKee means: your story needs to reflect your worldview. If you contradict whatever you believe in for the sake of commerce, you will fail. During his Arthouse seminar, he gives the example of Bergman’s THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY, where Bergman forced an ending upon the story in which he didn’t really believe. The story didn’t work, McKee says. Even the great Bergman couldn’t go against his instinct.

The discussion about happy endings is not exactly the same as the discussion about arcs. Protagonists without arcs have starred in films with tremendous success (see the reference to Mystery Man on Film in the previous post).

Although writers with a positive world may have more success in connecting with a large audience, I believe that talented and skilled screenwriters can create stories that work, irrespective of their worldview.

First-timers will have a harder time.

Here is the dilemma: to break in, you need to write something the market wants to see. Yet you’ll have a better chance if this first spec screenplay is written from the heart. You need to tell the truth.

My advice to beginning screenwriters: see how different genres allow to make different statements about the human condition without compromising the chances of success. Horror, crime and satire are darker genres than romance, adventure or kids movies.

Finally, to illustrate McKee’s point, below is a transcript of his introduction to THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY for British television.
______________________________________

Robert McKee: I saw my first Bergman film in Detroit, Michigan when I was 15. It was The Virgin Spring, a tale of revenge for rape and murder. Next came a comedy, Smiles of a Summer Night. After that Brink of Life, a social drama set in a maternity ward, Monika: A Teenage Love Story, Hour of the Wolf, a psycho-horror film. Bergman was like a one-man film studio bringing a fresh eye to many genres and by word of mouth filling cinemas everywhere. But then in the sixties he became a creature of the critics. They treated his films as intellectual crossword puzzles and drove the audience back behind a barricade of critic-speak � symbology, metaphysics, alienation � until it was impossible to watch a Bergman film without the feeling that you were taking an exam. And that�s where he stands today, on a pedestal, intimidating, distant, watched only by a tiny circle of cineastes. I think that over the years we forgot what the early audiences instinctively knew � above all else, Ingmar Bergman was a master storyteller.

Bergman�s difficult. Not to understand, but emotionally tough. He shines light into the darkest corners of life. He asks us to empathise with complex characters who, although very human, are not particularly loveable. Then he spins his stories over an emotional rollercoaster, taking us on a quest for the truth, truth that explodes the little lies that make life comfortable. To watch a Bergman film you have to be willing to invest all your humanity, to open yourself up, to care about life so much you want to know the truth though heaven may fall. It is not intellect Bergman demands so much as courage.

Bergman�s also difficult because he explains nothing. He doesn�t force his ideas into the mouths of his characters. Like Hollywood he tells stories visually, writes naturalistic dialogue and layers his meaning in the subtext. Unlike Hollywood his films are not tales of wish fulfilment, telling seductive lies about how everything works out for the best.

1a: The Film

�for now we see through a glass, darkly:
but then face to face; now I know in part;
but then I shall know even as also I am known

In 1998 McKee signed my first edition hardback of STORY. He wrote:

“To Karel: Tell the TRUTH!”

Ironically with the quote at the top of this article, McKee is not telling his own truth.(*)

He contradicts something he teaches in his art film seminar. On Ingmar Bergman’s THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY(**), McKee makes the point that Bergman

“set out to prove what he desperately wanted to believe and carefully designed this film as a rhetorical argument in dramatic form to make his point. But then his instincts, his integrity, his sense of truth overwhelmed his intellectual ambitions and somehow all the scenes that say the opposite of what he believed overwhelmed the other and as a result the film says that rather than love showing the way to happiness, the more likely fate is that you will end up alone, desperate, blinded with self deception.”

In other words:

If you don’t believe the happy ending, don’t write it.

If you don’t believe characters change in the real world, don’t make them in your screenplays. Tell the Truth.

You don’t have the option to choose between a-protag-with or a-protag-without arc. You must write what you believe in.

Bergman, one of the great storytellers of all time, tried to end THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY on an uplifting note.

He didn’t believe it. It didn’t work.

(*) Earlier this year, Mystery Man refered to the same quote before building his brilliant Case AGAINST Character Arcs. MM substantiates his point with numerous classic films.
(**) Full transcript of McKee’s television introduction to that movie in my next post.

The shot could have been spectacular, reminding of the opening shot of TOUCH OF EVIL and its pastiche in THE PLAYER.

Brad Bird’s commentary talks about the reason why it was cut and it is simply: Point of View.

The natural question that would occur is “Why would you cut this spectacular shot?”, because it is obviously great. “I want to see that film!” Well, I feel that way, too.

The problem, once you get passed the initial sort of rush of seeing this very elaborate shot that shows you a lot of different things in one shot and very impressively, is that it is no character’s point of view.

It is just a sort of God-like shot where you’re presented this whole world and it is spectacular and there have been many fine shots like that – Touch of Evil being one – that were great but I felt that this is Remi’s movie and it needed to be Remi’s perspective.

And I want to know the emotions that lead up to Remi looking into the kitchen. I don’t just want it laid on a platter, you know, just cut to Darth going “You’re my son, Luke.”

We should be with Remi when he has that moment. We should know how he is experiencing it and what is he feeling when he is experiencing it. And you kind of aren’t, this way.

It did lay everything out, but I don’t think that it took the audience with it.

-Brad Bird

Brad Bird’s reasoning confirms what I have written about ‘omniscient POV’: it is weak, or worse, it doesn’t work.

Movies are inherently about empathising, even identifying with characters.

When you step out of the protagonist’s POV, it should be to shift to another POV, most often the antagonist’s, never to take an omniscient POV, because it is devoid of emotion.

One exception: you may use an omniscient POV to create dramatic irony, i.e. to reveal information the protagonist doesn’t know but which has an impact on his journey.

See also:

Introduction to POV
Omniscient POV
Shifting POV
When to Shift?
POV in Ratatouille’s Deleted Scene
POV as Controller of Tone

I am speaking with Michael about his career, his teaching and his first visit to Australia in May of this year. With apologies for the poor audio quality of the telephone recording.

[display_podcast]

Karel: Terry Rossio, co writer of ALADDIN, PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN and SHREK, says you are “the only screenwriting instructor who might be truly wasting his time because he should be writing screenplays instead.” That’s my first question: Have you ever felt like you were wasting your time?

Michael: It’s very generous of Terry to say that. We first met when I did a special event as part of the American Screenwriters Association conference where I interviewed Ted Elliott and him. It was just when SHREK was in theatres. I gave a one hour lecture about SHREK and then they came on stage and we did a Q&A. They said later they appreciated that everything I had talked about was exactly what they intended when they wrote the script.At the time they were in the midst of writing Shrek 2 and weren’t real happy with the direction things were going, and people not appreciating their approach to it, which the studio ended up using anyway.

I really don’t think I’m wasting my time as a consultant. My strength, and my passion, is for working with writers and filmmakers, empowering them to get their stories on the page and on the screen, either by working with them one-on-one, or through my lectures, books, DVDs, articles, etc.

Karel: Have you ever written a screenplay?

Michael: Some time ago I made a stab at writing a screenplay, and it was OK, but it really wasn’t where my passion was. I just have so much fun doing what I’m doing.

————

Karel: How would you position yourself among the known screenwriting teachers?

Michael: Good question… How would I position myself? Well, first of all I’m somebody that has been around now a long time. There are a few of us who are sort of regarded as the front guard, or the old guard.

There’s me, there’s Bob McKee, there’s Syd Field, Linda Seger, Chris Vogler, John Truby, Kathie Fong Yoneda, a couple more that I’ve probably forgotten. So I think that gives us all a certain cachet. We all have books; we all have reputations and so on.

As far as lecturing goes, we all seem to have different things that we kind of enjoy doing. Linda goes to a lot of festivals and does a lot of work outside the US. I don’t do so much outside the US and I don’t do so much lecturing as her or Chris or Bob McKee. The trip to Australia, is the first time I will have come to Australia to give a seminar or to do a workshop, so that is a bit different.

I think of that whole group I mentioned, I’m the one that does the most coaching. Linda writes a lot of books. Chris, is working for Paramount, and he travels to Europe a lot to lecture and collaborate on projects. But I think I’m the guy who is primarily a script consultant

————

Karel: In your view, are there any contradictions between the various story theories?

Michael: In my experience, all those people that I mentioned, Bob and Syd and Linda and Chris and John, we all have our own approach to story, character and structure. And I have yet to find anything significant about which we disagree. It is just a different way of getting at the founding principles of story developed by Aristotle, and probably even before that.

That’s why I wanted to do the DVD of The Hero‘s 2 Journeys with Chris Vogler. He uses Joseph Campbell’s model, a mythical model for approaching story. I think it is wonderful, and I think his work is among the best out there. He and I don’t really disagree on the core principles of story, we just have different approaches, so we can sort of make fun of each other and argue about that.

I will say that there are a lot of myths about screenwriting floating around, and some are perpetuated by other lecturers. Myths like ‘if you live outside LA you don’t have a chance’ or ‘it’s not what you know, it is who you know’. It is important to know people, but you can get to know people. There are ways to network and contact people and get them to read your script and you’ll get to know them.

There are a lot of things like that, that I disagree with, but not the principles that I hear espoused by the top screenwriting teachers, or by the successful writers that I work with.

————

Karel: We know you from your books and DVDs but what keeps you busy most of your time?

Michael: I primarily do three things: I consult with writers, directors, producers, filmmakers and storytellers of all kind; I’m invited to lecture to lots of different groups; and I write — books and articles and so on. And of course, I have DVDs and CDs of some of the lectures that I give.

Karel: You seem to have a lot on your plate. How do you organize your day?

Michael: In a typical day, the majority of what I do is the consultation. I get up in the morning and I read a client’s script, and take extensive notes on that screenplay.

Later that day, I have a consulting session with that client, either in person or by phone. If it’s the first time we’ve talked, that might take up to three hours. If it’s an ongoing client, our session is closer to one and a half or two hours.

Then I might have another session with a writer who has outlined changes they plan to make as a result of our previous sessions. I might have a third coaching session with one of my clients who wants to get my guidance on their writing process, or on their pitch. And in between, I talk to prospective clients, write articles, prepare for lectures, add information to my web site and newsletters, and answer emails.

And after I’ve been in the office for about twelve hours, I’m done! And then my wife and I will have dinner and watch television or a movie. And that’s pretty much it. Glamorous, isn’t it?!

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Karel: Which are your favourite TV series?

Michael: Well right now there are two new series that may not yet be playing in Australia. The season is kind of truncated because of the Writers Guild strike here. But there is a half-hour series on HBO called In Treatment, which I love. It’s on six nights a week. Gabriel Byrne plays a psychologist, and each episode shows him in therapy with one of his clients. The series is set up so every Monday we see the same client as we saw the previous Monday, just like it would be with a real therapist. So Monday nights are about a young woman, and Tuesday night it’s about guy, and Wednesday nights it’s a teenage girl, and Thursdays a couple. Then Fridays the shrink goes to see his own therapist and talks about his own problems. It’s just talking heads, just two or three people in a room doing therapy. It’s based, I think, on an Israeli series, and it’s brilliantly written and wonderfully performed.

My other favourite series so far is Terminator: The Sarah Conner chronicles. I was a big terminator fan and they are doing some interesting new things with that franchise.

Karel: What is your favourite classic movie?

Michael: When I hear the term ‘classic’, I think in terms of pre-1950. I don’t think of movies from the 70’s on as classics in the same way. I guess you would have to regard The Godfather as a classic film. But when you say classic, I think of black and white, Hollywood in its heyday. And then I think without exception it would be Casablanca.

In more recent times, certainly Chinatown, certainly The Godfather. Those are sort of easy, because everybody puts those on the list. But I think any list of great movies would have to include Sleepless in Seattle, Shrek, When Harry Met Sally, L.A. Confidential, and a number of Woody Allen movies – but probably most of all Manhattan.

To be honest, it is an impossible question. There are so many movies that I love, so many movies I think are just wonderful. I actually hate the questions because I know I’m gonna forget to mention a movie that is just very close to me. And there are more coming along all the time!

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Karel: Do you watch a movie every day?

Michael: No, I probably watch on average about two movies a week, maybe three. But I watch television too, because I also consult with television writers, plus I’m a fan. I mean there are certain TV series that I really like, so I watch those. And I watch videos, and I go to the movies about once a week.

Karel: Do you have any favourites that don’t follow the principles you teach?

Michael: Oh yeah, yeah. There are a number of movies that I think are wonderful, that I generally don’t talk about when I lecture. The reason is: I want people to understand the core of what I consider the essential principles of story and structure and character arc and love story and eliciting emotion. So the examples I use are ones that follow the formula – if you want to call it that – so they can strengthens a writer’s understanding of it.

No movie breaks all the rules, but great movies often push the envelope, or they take liberties, or they fit into a niche that is less commercial.

So people regard Annie Hall as a great romantic comedy. But the basic formula for a Hollywood romantic comedy involves deception – a character with a compelling goal is lying about something to get it, then she meets someone and falls in love, but the person doesn’t know that the hero is pretending to be somebody she’s not, as in Working Girl or Tootsie or The Wedding Crashers. Or maybe the hero is just lying, as they are in a Sleepless in Seattle or Sideways. In any case, there is almost always deception, and always a happy ending.

Annie Hall doesn’t have any of those elements. It is more like a dramatic love story, but it’s so funny that it is regarded as a romantic comedy. And it doesn’t have a happy ending. Woody Allen is pretty much allergic to happy endings because he sees love affairs and relationships as finite. So he breaks the rules, but it’s still a great movie.

Another example, one of my all-time favourite movies and one of the great screenplays coming out of Hollywood in the last twenty years, is The Shawshank Redemption. It certainly follows rules for creating empathy, and giving characters visible goals, and developing character arc and theme. But it doesn’t follow a common structure. Instead it uses a three-stage structure. We see the hero in one period of time, then we jump ahead quite a few years, see them again, jump ahead, and see them a third time. That structure is used by When Harry Met Sally, by Steel Magnolias, by Driving Miss Daisy, by numerous other movies. But those movies are a very small percentage of the movies Hollywood makes.

So that’s not a typical film, yet it’s also a great screenplay.

Here’s the way I usually say it: you can break the rules only after you know the rules so well that you can honestly say, “I will elicit more emotion, and create a better emotional experience for the audience, by pushing the envelope rather than following the formula.”

When writers get in to trouble is when they say, “I don’t believe in formula, I’m just going to ignore the rules and tell whatever story I want to tell.” Those movies rarely work.

END OF PART ONE

Not all of these films are recent and audience’s expectation may have changed since these films were released. I believe that film goers have become more demanding in terms of structure. Some of the stories that worked then, would today be considered as structurally flawed.

Still, if you look at the protagonist’s journey, you will find that most – if not all – have a clear Inciting Incident, Act One Turning Point (Plot Point 1), Act Two Turning Point (PP2), Climax and Resolution.

In ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13, the Inciting Incident is foreshadowed by presenting the antagonists before we meet our hero Bishop. The sheer violence of the gang puts their storyline on a collision course with Bishop. Right from the start, even before he realises (Dramatic Irony) it puts him in extreme jeopardy, which is an effective way to make an audience connect with the protagonist.

This movie written and directed by John Carpenter is not only very entertaining, it is structured around a powerful reversal. The first (outer) objective of Wilson is to keep the convicts inside the police station, thus protecting the outside world from them. At the mid point, this reverses completely: now he needs to protect the convicts from the gang assaulting the police station.

The structural breakdown was done in a single viewing, without going back to check and most likely I will be wrong here and there. Particularly the Inciting Incident doesn’t seem to be strong enough, nor is there any reluctance or clear plot point leading to the ‘crossing of the threshold’. See for yourself and try to improve my breakdown of this film’s structure.

ACT ONE

SEQ. A: BISHOP’S FIRST DAY: A DANGEROUS AREA
02.40 DI: Anderson, CAL, 3.10am: 6 gang members killed by police
04.30 Press conference: weapons missing, serious threat
05.00 DI: Three war lords become blood brothers, arsenal of weapons
06.00 (04.50): Bishop driving, gets supervising duty Prec.9,div.13

SEQ. B: BISHOP GOES TO ANDERSON
08.30 DI: (05.11): Napoleon Wilson, on death row
10.00 DI: Wilson & Co are being transported
12.30 (05.32): Bishop driving
13.00 DI: (05.37) Father & Daughter lost in Anderson
15.00 DI: Gang members driving in car with weapons
16.00 (05.49): Bishop arrives, deputy informs captain, coffee with Kathy
20.30 Captain briefs bishop: first day on the job.

ACT TWO

SEQ. C: GETTING READY FOR THE NIGHT, NEW TASK
22.30 DI: (06.18) Punk trains gun on people while driving; ice cream van.
24.30 DI: (06.41) Transport goes to Anderson, convict is sick
28.00 DI: Punk kills girl and ice cream man
32.30 Bishop puts up sign as bus arrives, convicts go in holding tanks

SEQ. D: THE CONVICTS BECOME ALLIES; STATION UNDER SIEGE
34.30 Wilson checks out Bishop, men check out Kathy.
36.00 DI: (07.00) Father kills murderer, escapes into Police station
38.30 Nobody in car park. Phone dead. Chaney leaves, power down.
40.30 Bishop goes out, is being shot at. Chaney is dead. Silencers.
41.30 Transport minders shot. Police station under siege.

SEQ. E: REVERSAL – KEEPING THE GANGSTERS OUT
45.00 Making plans: flares; waiting for help; gang army approaches
50.30 Marked for a siege. Do they want father of killed girl?
52.00 Gangsters start assault; move in; Wilson fights back, shoots.
54.30 Everybody helps holding the gangsters at bay; armed. Silence.

SEQ. F: STAYING ALIVE
57.00 Julie dead; barricading doors. Squad car here in 5mins (he hopes).
60.30 Explosives in basement; cars back, bodies gone. All in 30mins.
63.00 Not afraid to die: convict knows about ‘ciolo’ revenge; save ass (Wells)
65.00 Counting spare ammo. Wilson gets a cigaret from Kathy.

SEQ. G: GETTING OUT
66.00 Patrol car Unit 7 checking the area
67.30 (08.15): Basement solution – hotwire car.
70.00 Wells goes out: “I’m doomed.”
71.00 Someone will come. “A man with faith”. Wells’ mission fails.

ACT THREE

SEQ. H: SETTING UP A TRAP
74.30 Renewed attack: “out of luck”; basement
78.00 The explosives; patrol: nothing unusual, phone worker dead.
80.00 Molotov attack, invasion & explosion

SEQ. I: HELP ARRIVES
83.00 Police support: “Anybody’s got a smoke?”
84.00 Bishop defends Wilson

(DI: Dramatic Irony)