Reading Screenplays Read online

  The character’s actions

  What is important to know as a reader is the difference between the character’s actions changing and the character’s attitudes changing. The character’s actions are the things that the character literally has to do in response to his or her situation. And the fact that the drama of the story forces a character to behave differently to how they would on an ordinary day doesn’t necessarily indicate or precipitate a change in their attitude.

  The character’s attitude

  The character’s attitude is the way in which the character interacts with the world, so it is shown both by the character’s manner of being, e.g. aloof, happy–go–lucky, arrogant, feisty, and also by the character’s attitude as shown by their belief system, their values or their worldview. A change in attitude is only warranted when the circumstances that the character experiences in a story lead that character fundamentally to re–evaluate the way they think about themselves or the world around them. Often they cannot fully complete the actions required by their situation until they have undergone that change in their attitude.

  For example, Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice cannot marry Darcy until she discovers that she was wrong about him and admits how prejudiced she has been. Jackie in Red Road will never find peace until she realises it isn’t revenge that she needs, but the ability to forgive herself. On the other hand, Jackson Curtis in the film 2012 needs to draw on his resources as the earth’s crust starts to crack. What is required of him to get his family to safety is the ability to drive, and he is already fully equipped with the skills and mindset to do this at the start.

  Be aware of the distinction between a change in the character’s actions and a change in the character’s attitude. One common reason why characters ‘do not work’, or feel unconvincing, is that the screenwriter has not equipped them with the attributes they need to complete the action required of them. Another is that the screenwriter, to ensure that they end up in the final scenes as the character they need to be, has started them out with monumental lessons to learn that are not required in the story.

  Remember also that there are stories in which the protagonist does not embark on a learning journey that alters their personality but rather follows a progression or a development, since the story is about them getting on with being who they are. Wish–fulfilment stories such as Bend It Like Beckham and Billy Elliot, or the ugly duckling stories like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, all feature a character who discovers they have a passion or talent. The fact that they remain dedicated to that talent or faithful to that passion enables them to overcome whatever it was about their situation that was holding them back.

  Watching those films can feel like witnessing character change but it is often the case that we have witnessed not a change but a blossoming, because the world finally makes space for them to be themselves. Nothing of their inner nature has essentially changed – rather it has been set free.

  Character motivation

  When reading the script it is really important to note the places in it where you stop believing in a character; the scenes or sequences in which you are just not convinced that the character would say or do what they are saying or are doing.

  Failing to understand a character’s motivation is a very different experience from following a story that contains intrigue and/or mystery about one or more of the characters. In most situations – whether or not we have our own experience of the specific situation – there will be a range of plausible explanations that we would accept/understand, so if the character is behaving in a way that is baffling or feels unlikely, it probably indicates a problem.

  The script reader’s job is to examine the motivation of the characters to ensure that the writer has created consistency in action, speech and reaction that is recognisably true throughout the development of the story. There are two main problems that emerge from this examination: characters who are inconsistent and characters who are unbelievable.

  Inconsistency in a character is when something in their speech or action contradicts what is already known about them, such as a character who doesn’t trust anyone but stops a stranger to ask about the best restaurant in town; or the advertising executive who loathes her job and wants a new one, but knuckles down when it is under threat; or the mother who normally puts her children first, but forgets to arrange a babysitter on this particular night.

  It is important to note when characters are saying or doing something that is inconsistent with their characterisation because, if the character is well thought through, these inconsistencies can readily be addressed by some additional thinking about alternatives; how else can they find out or forget in order to make the point and move the story on? (Often these flaws are hangovers from an earlier draft and usefully pointed out to the screenwriter.)

  However, unbelievable characters present a much more serious problem. These are the ones where it is just not clear or plausible or viable as to why they are in their situation. Why is she still with this guy? Or why doesn’t she just get another job? Or why does he decide to go on holiday to Iraq? Why does he still live with his mum?

  To clarify the approach, asking why is natural, and all of us are engaged in story because we are interested in the particular ‘why’ of the situation. This is not the same as not believing in a situation in the story.

  Often the new screenwriter’s understanding of character comes from their observations of real people rather than studying screen characters. Real people can, of course, be deeply inconsistent and frequently baffling, whereas screen characters are entirely knowable. It is the reader’s job to understand this and be able to point out the consequences of writing ‘real people’ rather than screen characters.

  The only information that the audience needs about a character is that which will be relevant to the story. An enormous amount of thought goes into creating characters much of which will not appear in the script. The only details that should be included are those that explain why the characters are in this situation, why they can’t just get out or move on, and why they do what they do.

  It is very enlightening to watch films and try to write down a list of the details we know about the main character. Often there are very few. The writer’s selection of details and the precision with which they are delivered distinguishes the good scripts from the rest.

  Keeping an audience engaged with a character is achieved, in large part, by making the audience aware of how high the stakes are for them. The actions of the characters, and choices they make, must be difficult for them, and the audience should fully understand why they are hard, whether or not they identify with the specific situations.

  As discussed in the structure section, but worth repeating here because it is so fundamental, to assist with engagement screenwriters have three points of view at their disposal:

  The audience and the character can know the same information

  The audience can have more information than the character

  The audience can have less information than the character

  When the audience discovers something at the same time as the character it is incredibly powerful and films that do this the best become classics e.g. The Sixth Sense, The Crying Game, The Usual Suspects.

  This convention can be played with, and a good example is Shaun of the Dead. The audience and Shaun have the same point of view in becoming aware of the ever–increasing number of zombies in London, but Shaun’s failure to interpret this information correctly generates the tension and humour of the second point of view available – dramatic irony.

  So using dramatic irony, where the audience knows more than the character, is an important way in which the writer is able to generate tension. The source of the tension can be fear, humour, anxiety, sympathy, pathos – all effective in getting an audience engaged. It is a very powerful tool and shows that the writer is aware of the importance of the principle who knows what and when? In this way the screenwriter is managing the relationships
between the screen and the audience effectively.

  The decision to give the characters more information than the audience is a tough one. If you are reading a script that feels boring, this may be a contributory factor. In your report, find a way to repeat the point that the audience always wants to know why a character wants or needs something, and that keeping things secret or keeping information back is not always the way to get an audience involved in a story.

  Character flaws

  On screen, the character’s flaws are, or should be, an integral part of the story. The story itself may be about the character’s flaw, or the character’s flaw may be the source of the conflict that the character has to resolve (such as a crippling fear of intimacy in Lars and the Real Girl), or the character’s flaw has some impact on how the conflict plays out.

  Dwayne’s colour blindness in Little Miss Sunshine means he can’t achieve his dream of becoming a pilot, and his discovery of this propels him to expose the adults in his family for what they are, exposing divorce, suicide, bankruptcy. Here, it is a flaw in his character that drives the story.

  Captain Brody in Jaws is afraid of the sea but has to overcome his fear to defeat the bigger problem of the shark killing people. In this case the audience’s knowledge of the character’s flaw generates dramatic irony and added tension, but, at the crucial moment, Brody overcomes it.

  The way the screenwriter presents the flaws should be analysed; it is not always about showing them – it is also about how the character conceals their flaws from themselves and from others, and this can create opportunities for dramatic irony and tension. The function of flaws is that they both inhibit and enable the character’s actions and, in doing so, the flaw is diminished, contributing to appropriate character change.

  Secondary characters

  The report must consider the secondary characters. So, first, what are secondary characters for?

  They help or hinder the protagonist.

  They provoke subplots that complicate the journey of the protagonist.

  They embody the themes of the film.

  They provide an arena within which to reveal additional significant aspects of the protagonist’s character.

  Are all the secondary characters contributing to the plot or the theme of the story, or revealing something significant about the protagonist? If not, their place in the story is not justified.

  However, though secondary characters are primarily there to provide an environment that reveals important aspects of the protagonist, the secondary characters must also be convincing. The best way to test this is to ensure that each one has:

  Their own mini–journey

  Distinguishable characteristics

  Credible motivations

  Inevitably, the screenwriter has spent much less time on the secondary characters than the principal ones, and a good report will highlight where additional work needs to be done. When considering the secondary characters it is useful to remember that character is contradiction. We engage because we recognise a tension between who they are – their circumstances and personality – and what they are trying to be. Obviously, the problems and desires of secondary characters will not be explored in the same detail as those of the protagonist, but they should at least be apparent.

  To summarise: to make the character section of your report useful you must address different issues from the ones you have raised in the premise section. Structure this section around the following questions:

  Is the main character the one who is the consistent driving force of change, whether making a change or resisting one?

  If you are reading a script where the main character is not driving the action, the dramatic question must revolve around the search to understand the character’s inactivity.

  What is the nature of the character at the beginning of the story and how has that changed by the end?

  Is the change convincing? Has it been convincingly brought about by the experiences that the character has been through?

  Is the character (and the character’s journey) appropriate for this story?

  Are there too many characters vying for attention?

  Is the character’s motivation believable? Do they have responses that seem appropriate for the situation and events?

  Are the stakes high enough for the character? Do we understand why it is hard for the character?

  What flaws has the main character been given? Are the flaws integral to the conflict?

  And finally, what of ‘the significant others’ in the story? Are they both appropriate and believable?

  SCREENWRITING CRAFT SKILLS

  Deciding if something is well written is very instinctive and most of us can do it. However, in a script report, the reader needs to understand both the craft and the function of the craft of writing a script in order to assist a writer in developing and honing good screenwriting skills. Being able to explain where the craft is not doing everything that it can is an attainable skill. Screenplays employ very specific techniques to tell their stories effectively, creating their own ‘language’. Fundamentally comprising scenes, which are units of action unified by time and/or place, the dialogue, use of montage and flashbacks are all elements of screenwriting craft that are continually developing and an integral part of the experience of reading a film script. To gain fluency in the craft skills, it is worth reading a lot of good produced screenplays, because they are, simply, the best learning tool and a good read. When you begin to read scripts and write reports it is worth reading the script once for the story and then again for the way in which it is written.

  There are three craft skills that the writer needs to acquire: writing dialogue, visual grammar and the pacing of the story. This section takes each of these in turn in order to help a reader understand when the language is working well, and, when it’s not, to identify common problems so as to facilitate the writing of an effective script report on the craft skills.

  The functions of dialogue

  Keeping in mind that cinema is a visual medium and that subtext is ultimately more important than text, dialogue has five basic functions:

  To create the illusion of reality

  To advance the story

  To reveal character

  To convey information

  To set the tone

  In a good script all five are continuously in play. Story, character, information and tone must all be kept in balance otherwise the illusion of reality collapses. As a principle, if one function starts to dominate – if, for example, dialogue is simply being used to convey information – the script is in trouble and a good reader needs to be able to identify instances of this.

  The illusion of reality:

  The primary requirement of dialogue it that it has verisimilitude, meaning true and real. The way characters speak and what they talk about must be plausible and convincing. In practice, this means that dialogue requires an ear for the rhythm, idiom and cadence of real speech, but there are, of course, many realities. Every screenplay creates its own story–world and it creates the everyday speech of that community. This may be pure invention or it may reflect recognisably ‘everyday talk’. Real or invented, what matters is that the rules and conventions of the vernacular are convincing and consistent.

  Advancing the story:

  The commonest problem and the source of much work for script readers is noticing dialogue that fails to advance the story. The usual reasons are repetition and digression. If we can see what’s happening, we don’t need dialogue to explain or repeat it. Equally, when writing a scene the writer can be distracted by the situation and forget to develop the story. If characters are in a supermarket it doesn’t mean they have to talk about the shopping list unless it advances the story.

  Revealing character:

  Revealing character through dialogue is, on one level, straightforward. How a character talks reflects their background, appearance, psychology and circumstances. A character may be instantly recognisable by
the way they speak. The whole art of dramatic writing, however, is to get beyond the surface and reveal the truth about a character’s innermost secrets and desires – their motivation. Dialogue should always be consistent with motivation, what a character wants/needs, but it rarely expresses it directly. The truth lies in the subtext. A line may express what a character feels or it may contradict it.

  Conveying information:

  Too much information threatens both the forward movement of a story and verisimilitude – the illusion of reality. This often happens in the set–up of a story when dialogue is used to convey backstory. The ensuing dialogue may have rhythm, idiom and cadence, but when characters start telling each other things they already know for the sake of the audience the story stalls and the illusion of reality is compromised.

  Setting the tone:

  The importance of dialogue varies with genre. Some demand lots, while, in others, there is less time for chat. Whatever the genre, however, dialogue has a vital role in setting the tone of the story. In a comedy we expect funny lines and feel cheated if we don’t get them. Tension is enhanced through good dialogue.

  Screen stories are driven by what we see. The basic principle of dramatising stories for the screen – show don’t tell – means dialogue has a less demanding – if no less prominent – role than in a stage or radio play. The simplest way to reveal this is to read and imagine the script without the dialogue. Is the basic action clear? Is it possible to recognise the kind of story it is? Even with films like Juno, Little Miss Sunshine and The Kids Are All Right, all arguably driven to a large extent by (brilliant) dialogue, it is possible to describe the action and identify the kinds of story without the dialogue.