Reading Screenplays Page 6

  Lester wants Angela, but he needs to learn to love the stage of life he’s arrived at and be a good father to his daughter Jane. The second dramatic question is about this.

  Just to complicate things, American Beauty also offers a third passive dramatic question, which is: why is this man now dead? This is a very interesting device as it imbues actually quite small story events with a far greater significance because we know that there is a dramatic outcome.

  Act two – making it messy

  If the first act ends with a clear commitment by the character to a course of action, or a point of no return, that moment should propel the reader into the second act where the consequences of that decision begin to unfold. In Billy Elliot, he’s decided to carry on dancing, so, for the first part of the second act, the audience watches him do that and try to keep it secret. Lester starts working out, quits his job; the Hoover family set off for California in a bright yellow VW van.

  The most important point to remember is that the second act should logically develop the story. At the mid–point, the second act should contain a turning point that raises the stakes, either by making it harder for the characters to get what they want or even more important that they do. Making it messy means complicating it for both the characters and the audience. However the character first thought they were going to solve their problem or achieve their goal is no longer an option. And it is at this point that the story should restate the dramatic question. As a reader, this is what you are looking for and can offer constructive comment if the structure isn’t serving the story.

  A useful way of thinking about turning points is that they change the rules of the game.

  The second act is generally the hardest to get right. There has to be enough happening on screen to keep the story interesting, but absolutely everything has to remain focused on the central conflict. Every sequence must offer a relevant movement towards answering the active dramatic question either by taking the character further away from solving their problem or moving them nearer to it. The assessment of the second act in a script report will mainly be about whether or not the writer has managed to do this.

  The two main problems with second acts are that not enough happens, indicated by long scenes, often repeating the same beat of the story, or that too much happens around the main story, indicated by subplots taking over, or a switch in point of view to other characters.

  In a script report the job is to assess whether the second act is consistent, logical and dramatic (does anything happen?), and whether it contains an appropriate mid–point that in some way shifts the power and effectively gets the audience sitting upright, re–engaged and wondering what this is going to mean for the characters. Remember to commend any sequences that work well and flag up sequences that are irrelevant to the main dramatic plot.

  The second act ends at a second turning point, which signals the beginning of the build–up to the climax. This turning point further increases the stakes and raises the dramatic question again by either putting the protagonist tantalisingly close to getting what they want, with one final hurdle ahead of them to overcome, or by placing them in much more danger than they have ever been in before.

  Act three – making it meaningful

  The important thing to remember is that act three is a whole dramatic act, it isn’t just the climax and the resolution. There should be clear dramatic events building up to the climax of the story.

  The climax is generally an inevitable moment that we’ve been waiting for since the beginning of the film. It is a now or never moment that everything rides on. In different genres it takes different forms – in a rom–com it’s usually the moment that the character realises that love is within their grasp if they risk everything and act now, generally leading to some kind of grand gesture. In thrillers it is most often a physical showdown between the protagonist and the antagonist. In dramas it is the moment that the character confronts their mother/father/lover. The climax of the film is when the dramatic question is finally answered.

  The third act should also offer a resolution, which succinctly shows the consequences of the answer to that dramatic question, giving sufficient space to absorb what has happened without dragging on too long.

  And, finally, the third act offers some point to telling the story by showing what the character’s journey means.

  In the analysis of the script’s ending it is important to pick up the discussion about the meaning that is raised in the premise section. In particular, think about how the story is resolved, in terms of literally what happens to get to that point and not just the final outcome, and examine what that means. For example, does the protagonist make the choices that lead to the climax and resolution, or does another character take control?

  If a clear dramatic question hasn’t been raised at the outset, it becomes impossible to define these crucial moments at the end of the film. And if that’s the case, that is the main point that needs to be made in the premise and structure sections of the script report.

  Examples of a structural breakdown

  Little Miss Sunshine based on the published script by Michael Arndt from the Newmarket Shooting Script Series, 2006

  This is a story in which what the characters want and what they need are at odds, so there are two dramatic questions. The first is: will the Hoover family get Olive to the beauty pageant in time? However, as we know from the outset that Olive is unlikely to win this, the story is about the other dramatic question, which is: will the Hoover family overcome their obsession with winning before it destroys Olive too?

  Olive is not the protagonist of Little Miss Sunshine. Olive is not living out any conflict; she is very happily getting on with her life. Richard is most often cited as the protagonist; however, given that all the characters experience change, the protagonist in this story could be seen as ‘the family’.

  The inciting incident of Little Miss Sunshine is when Olive defaults into the final of the beauty pageant. This is the opportunity that has arisen.

  The end of the first act is the decision to take the whole family to California so Olive can have her chance to win the pageant. (Scene 26, p.27)

  RICHARD

  Yes or no Olive? Are you gonna win?

  OLIVE

  Yes!

  RICHARD

  We’re going to California!

  The act two mid–point is the death of Grandpa. The impact of this event is that it literally slows down the journey to California as they deal with the body, and it gets rid of the only person in the family who had the right attitude to winning the beauty contest: ‘A loser is someone who doesn’t try.’

  This is a brilliant mid–point because it impacts on both dramatic questions, taking the family further away from what they are trying to do as well as what they need to do. Really messy.

  The end of the second act is when Olive gets into the contest. One question is now answered. The family has got Olive to the pageant on time, but, as we know, this is less important than the other question, which is: will it change its attitude to winning in time to protect her?

  The answer is ‘yes’ and it is expertly demonstrated at the climax of the film where the family gets up on stage and dances. In its desire to protect Olive, and its unexpected joy at dancing and not caring what anyone at the pageant thinks, we see a new, improved and hugely changed Hoover family, very different from the one we met at the beginning.

  The resolution is the moment the family is released from prison, having been arrested for disrupting the pageant (Scene 127 p.108).

  OFFICER MARTINEZ

  Okay you’re out.

  RICHARD

  we’re free?

  OFFICER MARTINEZ

  They’re dropping the charges on condition that you don’t enter your child in a beauty contest in the State of California ever again.

  FRANK

  (Hesitates)

  I think we can live with that.

  The meaning is that winning is about trying
, not about winning, and when winning becomes more important than trying, it can destroy you.

  The Kids Are All Right by Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg, March 2009

  The Kids Are All Right is a relationship drama about the impact of introducing Paul, the once–anonymous sperm donor who fathered Joni and Laser, into their lesbian family. The significant detail is that it starts on Joni’s 18th birthday when it is only a matter of weeks before she leaves for college, with her brother Laser not far behind. The moms are Jules – a chaotic blurrer of boundaries who has spent much of the last 18 years bringing up the kids – and Nic, the protagonist, a basic control freak, for whom the value at stake in this story is the loss of control.

  The inciting incident occurs when the kids contact Paul and arrange to meet him. The meeting goes well and the end of the first act is the decision to keep this momentous development secret from their moms.

  The first turning point of the second act is the discovery of the secret. Paul is invited for dinner. The plan is to ‘kill him with kindness and put this to bed’ but Paul offers Jules a job as his garden designer. The mid–point of the second act is Jules and Paul having sex. This is the worst thing that could have happened. The end of the second act is Nic’s discovery of the affair at the very moment she has decided to like Paul.

  The climax is the confrontation between Nic and Paul:

  NIC

  No, you hold on! Let me tell you something, man! This is not your family. This is my family!

  Nic slams the door in his face and walks back into the house.

  As this story is about family and relationships, the resolution of The Kids Are All Right is Jules’ speech in which she says, it’s complicated but we are a family and we mustn’t let anything wreck that. As with all drama stories, life goes on.

  Mia Bays

  MIA Films

  Selected credits for marketing and distribution: Shifty, Strawberry Fields, Tsotsi

  I use one particular reader for my own production slate – she’s my right–hand woman on all company and creative matters, and so has to read everything. She works on every draft of the stuff we’re making/developing. For Microwave – Film London’s low–budget feature project – we do use a selection of readers, and we refresh the pool regularly, also welcoming people with real development experience to read for us, too, as we want feedback on the script, the writing, the idea and the potential to make it a micro–budget film, rather than a detailed script analysis.

  In script reports, I’m looking for a clear opinion – though often I find myself going against the opinion, as I feel they’ve not seen the full picture! But an opinion is important, as this is an audience member responding to ideas. I don’t like pedantic reporting, a reader who goes on about structure; that comes over as a snipe. The best readers are people who have some experience of filmmaking. But readers should be used as backup, not instead of the execs reading!

  Tony Grisoni said a great thing at the Script Factory conference at BAFTA, which was that everyone has to be open to ‘play’, otherwise forget it – the script will not go anywhere and the process won’t work. When I am reading a first draft and deciding whether to take it on, I look at it in a different way – it’s all about the writing and then a meeting is essential. Sometimes it’s about the idea in spite of the writing. But ideally it’s the prowess or the promise of prowess that takes you forward.

  The usual reason for passing on a project is because I just can’t ‘see it’ or I just don’t rate the writing. Although my slate might be full, if someone I trust recommends someone or something, I’ll always read it and meet the writer. Most people will. Prior work is important to me. I’ve got to be hooked in by something.

  CHARACTER

  Script Factory script reports systematically order the section reporting on character after the sections on the premise and the structure of the script. This requires the reader first to consider the potential of the dramatic and thematic story and how it unfolds, before turning attention to the characters portrayed.

  The main reason for this sequence is to avoid focusing solely on the characters, and even writing the whole report about them, without offering anything more substantial or helpful to the writer. Characters are very tangible elements of the story and it is possible to analyse and identify strengths and weaknesses, truths and falsehoods in their depiction. But developing characters, however strongly, in isolation to the story they inhabit will not overcome dramatic, thematic or structural problems.

  It is essential to keep it in mind that problems in the premise and structure of the story need to be identified first, and that the characters must be assessed in the light of their appropriateness to the story.

  Some writers create a character or a group of characters and use their knowledge of a highly developed cast to design a story (Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank was designed around the main character of Mia; and Mike Leigh also uses this approach.) Other writers devise a situation or a story idea and create characters to fit the drama. There is no right or wrong way to do this and both can be equally successful. The characters have to be highly developed and fit the story choices the writer has made for them.

  In approaching this section of the report, set out again whose story this tells. If there are two or more key characters each of them will need to be discussed. It is rare to find a script where there are several characters whose stories demand equal attention from the audience. Much more commonly, it is only one character’s problem or motivation that drives the action, impacting on other characters as it unfolds. If the script feels overcrowded with characters this needs pointing out (and this will probably back up what you have said in the premise section).

  There are three main areas to consider when assessing character:

  Character Journeys

  Character Motivation

  Secondary Characters

  It is important to examine the characters in the script very thoroughly; however, the precise comments may be brief and specific, which is desirable.

  Character journeys

  The character section of a script report examines the nature of the journey that the story is taking the character on. It is good practice to try to define the character’s nature at the beginning of the story and the character’s nature at the end. The distance/change/transformation/development (or not) between the two natures will enable you to start your analysis of the journey.

  In film, the character’s desire or need for change to happen is what drives the story. The character’s journey means the decisions/actions that they make/take which result in some kind of meaningful change at the end of the story. There is a considerable body of ‘theory’ that requires characters to change their fundamental outlook or their inner nature, but this has resulted in confusion and many bad scripts.

  All the books expounding these ‘theories’ present the idea that the best screenplays are those in which the character learns a life–changing lesson or faces the kinds of tests and challenges that alter their inner nature by the end of the story.

  Consider briefly the last time you changed your attitude about something of significance? For example, about politics, religion, the death penalty, shoplifting, private schooling, or the benefit system? It is extremely difficult to effect a significant shift in attitude. If you have detected one in yourself, it may well have been precipitated by a major life–event such as a new birth, a death, marriage, or divorce. However, the prevalence of the notion that characters change has not been helpful, burdening screenwriters with the need to try to shoehorn life–lessons into all stories. There are many stories in which a fundamental change in a character’s outlook is neither warranted nor required. And any change in a character must be brought about convincingly from the experiences that a character has been through in the course of the story.

  Any film character only ‘lives’ within the short timespan of a film (90 minutes or so). In order to engage with any character’s change, an audience needs
first to know the character. This means being able to perceive a consistency of behaviour before any change starts to takes place. The limited time restricts the amount of meaningful change that can be shown over the course of a film. It is extremely important to approach scripts knowing how this limit applies.

  Across all story types there are fundamentally three elements of the story–world that are potentially subject to change:

  The character’s situation

  The character’s actions

  The character’s attitude

  The character’s situation

  In every story the character’s situation will change and that is the reason why there is a story to tell at this particular point in their lives. It may be the arrival of the Sperm–Donor Dad in The Kids Are All Right, or the cracks in the earth’s core in 2012. Situation, then, is the circumstances that the characters either find themselves in or actively seek to create for themselves. The situation can change in a way that isn’t desired so that the film’s focus is on how the character either resists the change or reverses it. In all cases, the character may or may not succeed in making or resisting the change; however, a character in a situation and their reaction to it is the basis of every screen story.