Structure!
Structure! Structure!
You've got a great idea for a movie, with characters that spring to life in
your mind and a concept that'll slay them in Hollywood. And maybe you can even
make the sale on your pitch alone. But then what? Well, write the script, of
course. But how do you translate your great idea into 120 riveting pages of
standard industry format that someone will want to spend at least a minimum of
low six figures on? In other words, what makes a screenplay work?
A common misconception, especially among novelists and play-writes looking to
switch genres and those looking to make "intelligent" (or French)
movies, is that a good screenplay is driven by dialogue. Wrong. While there
are some great dialogue driven films (think "Swingers",
"Diner", even, in a way, "Pulp Fiction"), dialogue alone
is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for a successful movie. Just
look at the recent Tom Hanks release "Cast Away" which includes
seventy-five fully realized and dramatic minutes with scarcely any words
spoken. Look also at, say, the first "Rocky", an excellent film not
particularly known for its verbiage. While dialogue is one of the best ways to
show character and "Quest For Fire" and "Koianistasi" are
best viewed under the influence of mind-altering substances, script readers,
not to mention movie goers, are quickly turned off by long stretches of what
is known in the industry as "talking heads", i.e. endless pages of
uninterrupted dialogue, no matter how funny.
"But the acting and the camera will take care of that," the
quality-minded scribe cries. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you're not selling
acting. And you are definitely not selling camera work (if you have any
mention of camera direction and angles, etc. in your script, start hacking,
because nothing pisses a director off more than being told what to do--after
all, if you want to direct your own script, pick up a camera). No, what you're
selling is your script and that's what you will be judged on.
So, fill in the witty, character revealing dialogue with action, then, is that
the answer? That's what Tarantino did with "Pulp Fiction, right? Well,
yes, that is what he did, but he also did that with "From Dusk Till
Dawn" and I'll pay anyone a hundred bucks who's managed to sit through
that movie without feeling like he or she must've done something terribly
wrong in a former life to be subjected to this kind of torture.
Action is good. Action is important, but you don't have to spend a lot of time
at Blockbusters to realize that action doesn't make good movies, even if it
does rake in the green. And not all action movies are successes--because,
contrary to the opinion of far too many studio executives, and screenwriters
as well, the audience isn't stupid. Even in an action-laden, big-budget,
Hollywood blockbuster, the audience, if it's going to be satisfied and want to
come back for more (repeat viewers being the wet dream of any studio exec.),
wants to feel it has seen a story--a full and complete story, with a beginning
and middle and end--and not just a collection of action sequences populated
with mindless, expendable, interchangeable characters. That's the only
explanation I have why "Titanic" was such a success. Even with it's
hokey story and simplistic dialogue and over-the-top acting, it appealed to
our need to be told a story, a story that brought in the female viewers in
droves to a special effects laden movie they wouldn't otherwise see.
So, what makes a story work, even a bad one like "Titanic"? What
brings dialogue, action and story development together into a
seem less
whole?
What allows the archetypes so apparent in the original "Star Wars"
(despite it's dreadful writing) to have the power and force they do?
Structure. Because without structure you have a story that comes across like
telling someone about a dream you had the night before. Because structure is
the very reason why stories are important to us. Because without structure a
story ends up just as messy as our every day lives, which is not what we go to
the movies to see. Whether it be for escape or clarity, thrill or insight, to
fall in love or to be caused to think--we go to be shown what we can't see
ourselves.
This is all fine and good, but what exactly is structure and how do you
achieve it? At its simplest, structure can bee seen to fall into the three
acts movie execs are so fond of, but this is misleading. Structure, like, say,
language, is organic. You have to have a feel for it, the way comics have a
feel for timing. It involves knowing what scenes work in relation to each
other and how long a scene can go on before having to cut away to another,
contrary scene. It has to do with when, exactly, at what beat, to cut away
from a scene and what to cut to, knowing what scenes work in opposition to
each other and which work together, like rhythm in a piece of music. It has to
do with how the scenes need to be laid out to make a cohesive whole.
Ultimately, though, there are no strict rules on how to do this--this despite
the fact that scriptwriting teachers will tell you things like always enter a
scene as close to the end as possible.
Yet, there is a logic. And that logic, like the logic of language, is
internal. If you make up you own language and grammar, it may make sense to
you, but does it make sense to anyone else? The same with structure. On the
other hand, grammar is merely a function of language and exists to codify the
way we speak, not bind it (which is why ending a sentence in a preposition and
splitting infinitives has been deemed kosher by the OED). In a similar way,
structure must grow from story, holding tension at a maximum while keeping the
conclusion at bay until, inevitably, but still surprisingly, it comes together
with all the pieces falling naturally in place like a puzzle waiting to be
completed.
Which begs the final question: how do you do that? But that one you have to
figure out for yourself.
Brian Fleming (c) 2001
Brian graduated from the prestigious Iowa
Writers' Workshop and is the author of: "CURVES & BENDS
& CARS THAT WON'T COME FAST" published by Phoenix Press.
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