The Idea is a book that could save screenwriters weeks, months or even years of time wasted on projects that will never make it to the screen. Erik Bork points out that readers, agents and producers are “…severely underwhelmed by more than 99 percent of what they receive.”

What they are looking for is “a great idea that’s well executed – one that grabs them emotionally, holds their attention, and powerfully entertains them.”

Erik Bork

Erik Bork is the winner of two Emmys and two Golden Globe Awards. He wrote for Band of Brothers (executive producers Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks), From the Earth to the Moon and has written screenplays on assignment for Universal Pictures, HBO, TNT, Playtone and Imagine Entertainment. He teaches the Extension’s Writers’ Program at UCLA and the MFA in Professional Screenwriting at National University. In other words, he knows his stuff.

Five Questions

Rather than tell writers to go away and come up with a great idea, he explains how this is done. The idea, he says, comes down to five questions.

1. Whose story is it, and why should we identify with them?
2. What do they want in their life circumstances and relationships?
3. What’s in the way of them achieving that?
4. What are they doing to try to resolve this? What makes it so hard?
5. Why does it matter deeply to them, and hopefully to us?

Most books on screenwriting don’t spend a lot of time on the idea.  They concentrate on story structure, character, the writing process and the “business”. Erik Bork suggested that 60% of what makes a project potentially successful is the core idea. 30% can be defined as structural choices, and only 10% of the script’s success is due to the words on the page.

Problem

Using the acronym, PROBLEM, Bork sets out the underlying principles of a great idea. It must be Punishing, Relatable, Original, Believable, Life-Altering, Entertaining and Meaningful. He devotes a chapter to each of these concepts, and argues convincingly that ideas that lack these concepts will fail. Or, at least they will fail to appeal to a large American audience.

Erik Bork states, “…the number one piece of advice I now give to writers is this: get serious objective feedback on the idea before you launch into structuring or outlining – let alone writing the script.”

Logline

The idea should be captured in the logline, bearing in mind that “…99 percent of the time they (readers, agents, producers etc) can tell from the logline that they don’t want to read further.”

Erik Bork suggests a good logline should include three elements – a quick sense of who the main character is, the catalyst that launches the story, and the nature of the challenge the main character now must face.

I have to respectfully disagree with one of these elements. Sometimes, there is no room in a logline to include the catalyst that launches the story (the inciting incident). In this case, they just include the protagonist, the problem and very often, a twist.

More Screenwriting Tips

The focus of the book is the idea, a concept Bork quite rightly suggests is undervalued in other screenwriting manuals. However, he also sprinkles other worthwhile tips throughout the text.  For example:

“Many stories get tripped up because the problem just isn’t hard enough.”

“Stories are not about intellectual interesting things (although that might be a side element).  They are about emotionally impactful things.”

“…beginning writers tend to obsess too much about character arcs and flaws, and work too hard to give the main character too much room for growth, to the point where they start the movie rather unsympathetically.”

“Industry buyers, writers’ representatives, and audiences don’t value “newness” quite as highly as writers or critics.”

“Simple stories tend to work better than complicated ones, because there is only so much information a writer can download to a reader in an effective fashion.”

“Do not give characters freedom – hem them in.”

Stakes

“… something really big should be at stake… half of the produced/published stories out there have lives threatened and/or taken as the main problem of the story and the primary thing that the main character is trying to stop, prevent, or get justice for.”

“The greatest, meatiest, and most memorable stories say something, somehow, about deeper concepts that resonate with people in a significant way.”

On this last point, Erik Bork suggests that writers should ask themselves why they are writing a story. What does the story mean to them?  Here, he is in general agreement with Yves Lavandier. In Constructing a Story, Lavandier suggests writers should begin with the general intention – the meaning they want to communicate through the story – and write this down before considering the idea, logline, structure etc.

Concluding…

In a very readable and entertaining work, Erik Bork has introduced the centrality and importance of the idea, shown readers how to create and confirm the value of their idea, and how to save time by not working on projects that could be doomed from the outset by a weak idea.  

-Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

THE AUTHOR

Yves Lavandier took a degree in Civil Engineering, then studied film at Columbia University, New York, between 1983 and 1985. One of his tutors was Frantisek (Frank) Daniel, the same teacher who inspired Paul Gulino, author of “Screenwriting, the Sequence Approach”. During this time he wrote and directed a number of shorts, then returned to France and embarked on a full time screenwriting career, mainly for television.

In 1987 he established a number of writing workshops, and produced a 12 page handout on the theory of screenwriting. When the handout grew to 100 pages he decided it was time to write a book. His 2005 screenwriting guide “Writing Drama” was the result of twenty years of film study, writing and teaching.

TRIED AND TESTED

“Constructing a Story” is based on chapters 16 and 17 of “Writing Drama”. It develops and extends into 240 pages the ideas raised in the original 40 pages.

All recommendations in the book have been tested in his own writing and in the workshops he teaches, and are supported by references to over 500 films, television shows, plays and novels.

It is, therefore, a very thoughtful book and one that presents rules, guidelines and precepts that will be of interest to all thoughtful screenwriters.

CONTROVERSY

Lavandier does not shy away from controversy. He criticises the “one model fits all” approach taken by Hollywood as a reaction to Syd Field’s “Screenplay”.

Many other screenwriting manuals regard the Field structure as sacrosanct. He tells us that protagonists do not need to be virtuous or likable, and cites films from the 70’s such as “Midnight Cowboy”, “Dog Day Afternoon”, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” and “Taxi Driver”.

Many other manual writers agonise over making the protagonist likeable, resulting in devices such as “save the cat”, which are excellent when cleverly employed, but in many modern films, heavy-handed and obvious.

LOGLINE SECOND

While most theorists advise starting with a logline, Lavandier suggests that is the second step. The initial step is “intention”. Writers should first consider the meaning they wish to convey through their story. This can often be summed up in a key phrase or key scene.

His discussion of the character arc in Chapter 4 extends the idea of a straightforward change and highlights the four narrative moments essential to the conveyance of the arc. He also points out that not all characters change, and while Hollywood producers seem to revel in arcs, the protagonists in “North by Northwest”, “Amadeus”, “Some Like it Hot” and “Fargo” are the same at the beginning and end of their stories.

FUNDAMENTALS

Chapter 11, “Fundamental Requirements” lists “a few precepts that you should keep in the back of your mind at all times as you write.” They include be clear, be ferocious to your protagonist, make the audience participate, enter other peoples’ minds, use powerful language and create connections. The twenty suggestions in this chapter should not be left lingering in the back of the writer’s mind – they should be nailed to his or her computer.

Of course, it is not always possible to agree with everything in a book that is packed with such great advice, and there were two areas that I found difficult to accept.

THREE TRAITS MAX

Lavandier suggests that a character should have a maximum of three traits, and that any more and “the audience will either drown in too many details and the character will seem two-dimensional and incoherent, or you’ll only end up keeping two or three and ignoring the rest.”

When I read this I thought immediately of “Erin Brockovich”, and began to list the protagonist’s traits. Erin is intelligent, has a great memory, is passionate about her work and the people she is helping, is vulnerable, scared of commitment, strong, but also sorry for herself, wants respect, knows she is sexy and knows how to use her sexuality, will not be intimidated, has difficulty relating to other women and uses profanities, often on the wrong occasion.

All these traits result in a rich, well rounded and fascinating character, and I doubt whether many audience members found themselves drowning in detail.

DIALOGUE

My second criticism is his treatment of dialogue. “Dialogue,” he says, “needs to come across as realistic… People in real life hesitate, search for their words or repeat themselves.” I agree that people do this, but it is not entertaining on the screen, and if this advice is followed a lot of unnecessary and tedious pages will be produced by budding screenwriters. The first duty of a screenwriter is to entertain. “Um’s”, “ah’s” and “let me rephrase that” are not entertaining.

He also suggests that dialogue “should resemble everyday speech.” If screenwriters adhered to this advice we would never have heard some of cinema’s best lines. When a robber holds a gun to a woman’s head and threatens to shoot her, a detective on the scene would most likely say something like, “Put down your weapon”, or “Don’t do it, let’s talk about this.” Instead, Harry Callaghan in “Sudden Impact” says, “Go ahead. Make my day.”

A criminal watching one of his henchmen beat up two men would be unlikely to say, “Jake attacks his job with a certain exuberance”. And one of his victims would be unlikely to counter with, “Shit. We’re being beat up by the inventor of scrabble.” But these totally unrealistic lines assist in making “The Last Boy Scout” a very entertaining movie.

CONCLUSION

These two minor criticisms are directed at less than 2% of the book. The remaining 98% I found thoroughly enlightening, with ideas and suggestions that made a lot of sense.

Many lesser screenwriting manuals are little more McKee, Field, Vogler, Snyder and Seger repackaged. Lavandier’s “Constructing a Story”, like his previous work, “Writing Drama”, is an original, erudite work, packed with helpful ideas based on the author’s many years of research, teaching and writing.

I would recommend it to all screenwriters.

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Screenplays are made up of action, description, and dialogue.”

by Jack Brislee

“That’s all.  Nothing can be included that can’t be conveyed to an audience…With each scene, ask yourself, ‘How will the audience know what I’ve just told the reader?’  The reader can’t be told anything the audience won’t find out by watching the screen and hearing the sound track.”  (Writing Screenplays that Sell.  2007.  p 114)

Most professional screenwriters adhere religiously to this rule, but some break it, often with excellent results.

Here is William Goldman introducing one of his most famous characters.

“He is Butch Cassidy and hard to pin down.  Thirty-five and bright, he has brown hair, but most people, if asked to describe him, would remember him blond.  He speaks well and quickly, and has been all his life a leader of men; but if you asked him, he would be damned if he could tell you why.”

His age and his manner of speech can be conveyed to the screen, but people remembering him as blond and Butch not knowing why he is a leader of men?  Surely that should not be on the page?  Yet it is, and it just about perfectly describes the character we come to know so well in the film.

Aaron Sorkin is a serial breaker of this rule.  Here he is introducing Joanne Galloway (Demi Moore) in “A Few Good Men”.

“…She’s bright, attractive, impulsive, and has a tendency to speak quickly.  If she had any friends, they’d call her Jo.”

We can’t see anything described in the last sentence, but it captures Joanne perfectly.

Here is his description of Lt Daniel Kaffee (Tom Cruise).

“Kaffee’s in his late 20’s, 15 months out of Harvard Law School, and a brilliant legal mind waiting for a courageous spirit to drive it”.

We can’t see that he is 15 months out of law school and we certainly can’t see his mind, but this description works well.  We know that a lawyer one month out of law school is very different to one ten years out of law school, and the 15 months gives us a pretty good peg on which to hang his character.  As for his mind waiting for something to drive it, this is probably the essence of his character.

Sorkin’s introduction of Colonel Jessep (Jack Nicholson) also breaks the rule.

“Jessep’s a born leader, considered in many circles to be one of the fair-haired boys of the Corps”.

A great description, but we don’t see the “many circles”.

Flash forward eighteen years and here is Sorkin again breaking the rule, this time in “The Social Network”.  He describes Mark Zuckerberg as

“a sweet looking 19 year old whose lack of any physically intimidating attributes masks a very complicated and dangerous anger”.

He even uses the word “masks”.  This definitely cannot be seen on the screen.

Sorkin tells us something that we won’t see until later when describing Erica:   “Erica, also 19, is Mark’s date…. At this point in the conversation she already knows that she’d rather not be there and her politeness is about to be tested”.

In introducing the Winklevoss twins who are rowing on the Charles River he tells us what is in their minds:

“They know the others aren’t in their class and even though they’re highly competitive athletes, they don’t like showing any one up, least of all their team mates.”

Once again, the rule is broken, but the indiscretion results in a screenplay that lets the actor, director and reader really see and understand the character.

I trawled through fifty screenplays looking for other examples of the breaking of this rule, and could not find any.  So perhaps the rule should be, “If it’s not on the screen, it’s not on the page, unless you are a Goldman or Sorkin in which case you can do what you damn well like”.

For the rest of you, unless you are very confident that breaking the rule will enhance your script, don’t try this at home.

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

First he introduces us to the rule, then explains how it has been successfully broken (or bent).

The Rule: No Passive Protagonists!

Most screenwriting books regard a passive protagonist as a major error.  Audiences want to see a hero who instigates action, rather than one who reacts to a series of events.

According to Ray Frensham,

“…the protagonist is the one who should

• drive the plot (their outward motivations and goal/s are the engine of your story)
• initiate the action”

(Teach Yourself Screenwriting 2003  p72)

Christopher Keane tells us to

“…remember that your main character always wants something and will do anything to get it.  The main character’s drive becomes the spine of the story.  Your character sees something he wants.  He goes after it.  He’s blocked.  He tries another approach.  That one’s blocked.  He knows he needs to get creative.  He tries another…”

(How to Write a Selling Screenplay 1998  p26)

The classic protagonist has a well defined goal and is active in his pursuit of this goal.  If he does not have a goal, or does not actively pursue a goal (and hopefully suffer during the experience) then the audience will lose interest.  If the protagonist is not passionate, why should the audience be?

Christopher Vogler, however, suggests there might just be room for the passive protagonist.  He writes,

“It seems Heroes are of two types: 1) willing, active, gung-ho, committed to the adventure, without doubts, always bravely going ahead, self-motivated, or 2) unwilling, full of doubts and hesitations, passive, needing to be motivated or pushed into the adventure by outside forces.  Both make equally entertaining stories, although the Hero who is passive throughout may make for an uninvolving dramatic experience.  It’s usually best for an unwilling hero to change at some point, to become committed to the adventure after some necessary motivation has been supplied.” (The Writer’s Journey 1999 p41)

Tom Lazarus solves the active/passive dilemma quite neatly.

“Characters are more interesting when not only do they make things happen, but things happen to them.  A nice way to think about a character’s relationship to the story is:  situation pushes character, character pushes situation”.  (Secrets of Film Writing 2001  p92)

Trevor Mayes points out three places in even the most traditional Hollywood script where the protagonist can be passive:

1. at the beginning of the story, in the Ordinary World.

According to Vogler,

“Often Heroes are unaware there is anything wrong with their Ordinary World and don’t see any need for change. They may be in a state of denial. They have been just barely getting by, using an arsenal of crutches, addictions, and defence mechanisms”. (The Writer’s Journey 1999 p101)

2.  after the inciting incident, where the enormity of the call to adventure might result in initial refusal.

As Vogler comments,

“Put yourself in the hero’s shoes and you can see that it’s a difficult passage. You’re being asked to say yes to a great unknown, to an adventure that will be exciting but also dangerous and even life threatening. It wouldn’t be a real adventure otherwise. You stand at a threshold of fear, and an understandable reaction would be to hesitate or even refuse the Call, at least temporarily.” (The Writer’s Journey 1999 p107)

3.  at the end of Act II in the “All is Lost” or “Dark Night of the Soul” moment.

Blake Snyder suggests it is the moment when the protagonist cannot initiate action. Instead he leaves the initiation of action to fate.

“I don’t know why we have to see this moment, but we do. It’s the ‘Oh Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?’ beat. I think it works because, once again, it’s primal. We’ve all been there – hopeless, clueless, drunk, and stupid – sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire and four cents, late for a big appointment that will save our lives. Then and only then, when we admit our humility and our humanity, and yield our control of events over to Fate, do we find the solution”. (Save the Cat 2005 pp88-89)

These three occasions are often the most moving passages in a screenplay, and they all depict a passive protagonist.

There are many highly successful films that depict a passive protagonist throughout Act I, eg

• Rocky Balboa – Rocky does not do anything in the first act.  All he does is show us how he lives at present.  This will lead us to understand why needs that final bout, so it works well.  But he is still a passive protagonist in Act I.
• Star Wars – Luke spends a lot of time complaining about why he wants to leave, but does nothing about this until his aunt and uncle are killed.  That occurs 45 minutes into the film.  All this time R2-D2 is given the task of moving the story forward.
• Ferris Bueller’s Day Off – Cameron is the real protagonist and the only one with an arc.  But in the first act he is passive, allowing himself to be dragged around by Ferris.
• The 40 Year-Old Virgin – Andy makes no attempt to lose his virginity in Act I.  If this is his goal he does not actively pursue it.

There are also successful films that depict a passive protagonist for the length of the screenplay, eg

• The Graduate – according to Paul Gulino

“It is useful to remember that a writer is not bound by rules and formula but only by the need to keep an audience wondering what is going to happen next.  In the case ofThe Graduate, the tool used to achieve this, in the central part of the film, is dramatic irony… the story is propelled primarily by fear in the audience of what will happen when Ben’s secret is revealed, and hope that he will be able to keep it concealed.  While he clearly wants sex, he doesn’t strive for it, and his partner is willing, so there is no obstacle to getting it.”  (Screenwriting – the Sequence Approach  2004  p145)

• Being There – Peter Sellers as Chance Gardner barely moves without someone or something nudging him forward.  He rises to unbelievable heights of success by doing nothing.  He is the perfect passive protagonist.  He just happens to be there.

So it is possible to break “no passive protagonists” rule.  It just isn’t easy.  An active protagonist is easier to write, but a protagonist who is sometimes active and sometimes passive is often more interesting.

Any more examples of successful passive protagonists?

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Every single character in your movie must change in the course of your story. The only characters who don’t change are the bad guys.

But the hero and his friends change a lot.” (“Save the Cat” 2005 p134).

This is a standard rule found in most screenwriting books.

John Truby reduces the character arc to a geometric formula.

“Character change is what your hero experiences by going through his struggle. At the simplest level, that change could be represented as a three part equation

W x A = C

Where W stands for weakness, both psychological and moral; A represents the struggle to accomplish the basic action in the middle of the story, and C stands for the changed person.”

(“The Anatomy of a Story” 2007 p32).

This is a standard Hollywood formula. A character has an inner flaw. He is presented with a problem. He struggles with the problem and tries to solve it in various ways, but it is only when he overcomes his inner flaw that he is able to overcome the outer problem.

In “Million Dollar Baby” Clint Eastwood’s character Frankie refuses to become involved with people or commit to a relationship. In “Batman Begins” Bruce Wayne cannot save Gotham City until he overcomes the guilt of his parents’ death. In “Rocky” the hero defines himself as a loser. All three characters are presented with a problem, and they must overcome their inner flaw in order to achieve their goals.

There is something very satisfying about characters that grow and change, particularly if they change for the better. It is all part of the optimistic American outlook, promoted by the same people who gave us the “power of positive thinking” and the “log cabin to white house myth”. Blake Snyder takes the rule to quasi religious levels.

“In a sense, stories are about change. And the measuring stick that tells us who succeeds and who doesn’t is seen in the ability to change. Good guys are those who willingly accept change and see it as a positive force. Bad guys are those who refuse to change, who curl up and die in their own juices, unable to move out of the rut their lives represent. To succeed in life is to be able to transform. That’s why it’s the basis not only of good storytelling but also of the world’s best known religions. Change is good because it represents re-birth, the promise of a fresh start”.

(“Save the Cat” 2005 p136).

But is character change an iron law? In European films character change is less prevalent. Yves Lavandier writes quite scathingly of this American obsession.

“The philosophy of change has gained the upper hand in the writing of drama in recent years. In the United States it has become an essential criterion in the way the protagonist is handled: he has to have changed at the end of the story, with redemption a desirable option. As a result, everyone now changes, even the psychotherapists. Two or three sessions with a patient who has an interesting problem and suddenly the shrink succeeds in breaking out of his bereavement (see “Good Will Hunting”, “Analyse This”)”.

(“Writing Drama” 2005 p 120).

Many memorable film heroes do not change. It is their stubbornness and their adherence to principles that makes them interesting characters. Burt Munro (Anthony Hopkins) in “The World’s Fastest Indian” is a stubborn old man with a singular obsession. He does not change at all. When the credits roll at the end of the film we see that Burt continued to chase motorcycle records to the end of his life. Patton doesn’t change. Gandhi doesn’t change. Colonel Nicholson, in “The Bridge on the River Kwai” is the same stubborn British officer at the beginning and end of the film.

James Bond doesn’t have a character arc, although perhaps his audience does. Roger Moore’s sexist comments seemed witty in the 1970’s. Now they are politically incorrect.

So unlike Blake Snyder, I do not believe a character arc is an essential rule. While it can be satisfying to watch a hero overcome an inner flaw to surmount an outer obstacle, it can be equally satisfying watching a protagonist who sticks to his principles and undergoes no change.

What do you think?

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

photo credit: bryanwright5@gmail.com

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

First he introduces us to the rule, then explains how it has been successfully broken (or bent).

The Rule: Introduce the Protagonist on Page One!

Well, maybe not exactly on page one, but most of the experts agree that we must see the protagonist at the beginning of the film.

They express this rule as follows:

The reader must know who the main character is, what the dramatic premise is, what the story is about, and the dramatic situation – the circumstances surrounding the action.
These elements must be introduced in the first ten pages.
-Syd Field

(From “Screenplay:  The Foundations of Screenwriting’ 2005.  p107)

The beginning of a film must set up
a dramatic problem for the protagonist…
-Linda Cowgill

(From ‘The Art of Plotting’ 2008. p3)

In the first “ten pages you have to set up your scenario.  Establish who your main characters are
and especially who your protagonist is…”
-Ray Frensham

(From ‘Teach Yourself Screenwriting’ 2003.  p110)

Blake Snyder’s fifteen point beat sheet has the opening image as beat one.  This beat is

“an opportunity to give us the starting point of the hero.”

(From ‘Save the Cat’ 2005.  p72)

The logic behind the rule

This rule makes very good sense.  The audience needs to empathise with the protagonist and follow his or her story.  The quicker you get your protagonist in front of the camera, the quicker this process can start.  Also, if your hero is played by a major star who commands millions of dollars, you want to get your money’s worth as soon as possible.

The majority of films which feature the protagonist’s name in the title feature the protagonist in the first scene.  The hero might be making a speech – Patton, applying for a job – Erin Brockovich, or even dying – Lawrence of Arabia, Gandhi.

Can this rule be broken?

Most experts say no, but look how successfully the Coen brothers break it in Fargo.  Policewoman Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) is introduced on page 36.  How do they get away with it?

Two easy answers are

1. They are the Coen brothers.  They have a string of successful films behind them.  They can get away with anything.
2. Frances McDormand is married to Joel Coen.

But I think there is more to it than that.  Look how much information the writers give us about Marge in her opening scenes:

• She is pregnant
• She has morning sickness
• She has a very strong accent
• She is kind and considerate
• She has a sense of humour
• She has a great relationship with her husband (who paints ducks!)
• She is intelligent
• She is very good at her job

Break the rule – then fix it

In fact, the Coen brothers give us so much information about Marge in such a short time that we feel we know her.  The fact that she was introduced very late in the story is irrelevant.

The writers have broken the rule, and broken it successfully.  If they had not provided all these character details so quickly the rule could not have been successfully broken.

Are there other examples of late introductions to protagonists?  Are they successful or unsuccessful?  Why?

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Nothing succeeds like excess

A writer must not be afraid of excess, of taking things too far. There are those who say that excess in all things is meaningless. This may be true in life, where the truth usually lies somewhere in the middle ground, in moderation—even though, when it comes to excess, reality often outdoes fiction (I shall return to this point). However it is manifestly untrue in art.

A writer must not be afraid of excess.

The great writers of drama, from William Shakespeare to Jean-Michel Charlier and from Molière to Alfred Hitchcock, via Bertolt Brecht, Ernst Lubitsch and Ingmar Bergman, all went to excessive lengths. And it clearly brought results.

In Wise Blood and Oedipus Rex, the protagonist tears his eyes out.

In The Unknown, Alonzo (Lon Chaney) has both his arms amputated in order to be able to marry the woman he loves.

In Ballad of Narayama, Orin (Kinuyo Tanaka) does not flinch at breaking her own teeth in order to appear older than she really is.

In Counter Tenors, Meo (Paolo Ferrari) agrees to be castrated.

In Desire Under the Elms, a mother murders her infant child.

The list is endless, particularly when it comes to comedy which of all the genres goes furthest in stretching reality to the limit and beyond. When it comes down to it, who really is going to change their sexual identity just to get a job (cf. Some Like It Hot, Tootsie or Victor/Victoria)? Or act in any way at all like the protagonists of To Be or Not to Be?

The writer must not resort to excess as a matter of course

While on the one hand one should not hesitate to be excessive when the situation calls for it, the writer must not resort to excess as a matter of course. Going to excessive lengths implies setting out from one point, generally some kind of norm, and ending up at another, considered beyond the bounds of reasonable behaviour.

Works of drama that deal only in excess lack the shading that the norm provides by contrast, and tend to be overheated and hysterical.

-Yves Lavandier

If this excerpt has whetted your appetite and you would like to own this book, don’t fork out the $150 or so Amazon is charging.

Instead, send an email to the publisher contact@clown-enfant.com with subject ‘the story department referral’ and you will be eligible for the super-discounted price of 30 Euros (i.e. only $37 at the time of writing). This saves you $113 (or 75%) off the Amazon cost.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

by Aristotle.

Penguin. London, UK.

62 pages.

ISBN 014-04-4636-2

Amazon Price: US $7.88

THE INSPIRATION

The Dionysia was a religious festival held once a year in ancient Athens to honour the god Dionysus. Three days of the festival were devoted to the performance of tragic plays. Three playwrights performed three tragedies and one satyr play each – one set of plays per day – in the theatre of Dionysus. (Satyr plays were in the light, burlesque style, and usually contained themes of drinking and overt sexuality).

Judges watched the plays from the front row of the theatre, and on the final day chose the winners. Aristotle, the Greek philosopher, sat in the audience and observed. Because each year the playwrights were given one theme or topic, Aristotle was able to make comparisons and seek general principles of good playwriting without the distraction of different subjects. The result is “Poetics”.

Aristotle was able to make comparisons and
seek general principles of good playwriting
without the distraction of different subjects.

“Poetics” is not a book that was prepared and polished for publication. That book, if it existed, has not survived. Instead it is a set of notes, possibly lecture notes, compiled for his own use or the use of his students. As “Poetics” was not designed for public consumption some aspects are difficult to understand. Aristotle was admired in the ancient world for his clarity and elegance of style. Unfortunately, the clarity and elegance are mostly in the missing works.

There are four reasons why the modern screenwriter should read “Poetics”.

1. It is very short – only 46 pages. Unfortunately many screenwriters only make it to paragraph two, surrendering when they encounter the word “dithyrambic”.
2. It shows how the essence of a good story has not changed in 2,500 years.
3. It gives the screenwriter credibility. But a note of caution – when you are sipping a soy latte poolside in the home of a Hollywood starlet, never tell your hostess that you are reading Aristotle. Always say you are re-reading him, preferably in the original Greek.
4. Modern screenwriting gurus love to refer to “Poetics”. They believe it gives them credibility, even though a number of them, Tierno and Kitchen, for example, have misread the text.

What does Aristotle believe the elements of a good story to be?

PLOT OVER CHARACTER

Plot, and the ability to create a powerful structure, are more important than character or dialogue. “…every drama alike has spectacle, character, plot, diction, song and reasoning. But the most important of them is the structure of the events.” He goes as far as to say that, “there could not be a tragedy without action, but there could be one without character.”

This seems a little strange, particularly when Aristotle gives examples of great characters in Greek tragedy – Oedipus, Menelaus, Achilles and Odysseus – who are famous twenty-five millennia after their stories were told. But are they famous for their characters, or are they famous for the stories in which they appear? Probably the latter, so maybe Aristotle is right.

The most important of them is the structure of the events.

A common misconception preached by many screenwriting gurus stems from this quotation – “a tragedy is an imitation of an action that is complete in itself, as a whole of some magnitude; for a whole may be of no magnitude to speak of. Now a whole is that which has beginning, middle, and end.”

This leads commentators to suggest that Aristotle invented the three act structure. They then go on to show how this influenced later writers such as Shakespeare (who unfortunately used a five act structure).

NOT ‘OUR’ THREE ACTS

But Aristotle does not really talk about three acts. Instead he suggests all great stories have two essential structural elements – the “complication” and the “denouement”. Complication in modern screenwriting roughly translates to the back story and everything that happens in Act I and Act II up to the mid point reversal. Denouement includes Act II from the mid point to the end of the story in Act III.

In Aristotle’s words, “By complication I mean everything from the beginning up to and including the section which immediately precedes the change to good fortune or bad fortune”; “by Denouement, all from the beginning of the change to the end”. Does this mean Aristotle is really a two act man, or are we trying to cram Aristotelian story elements into our modern concept of story structure?

It is best to read “Poetics” with an open mind, rather than regarding Aristotle as a Hollywood guru who was accidentally born in the Fourth Century BC. It is better to reflect on his ideas of drama, to see which have passed the test of time and which are applicable only to Ancient Greek theatre.

It is best to read “Poetics” with an open mind,
rather than regarding Aristotle as a Hollywood guru
who was accidentally born in the Fourth Century BC.

His discussions of completeness, defective plots, astonishment, reversal, recognition, suffering and universality hold true today. But other aspects of “Poetics” relate to devises that are seldom used in modern works. The chorus is a good example, although when used in modern screenplays (the troubadours in “There’s Something about Mary” are a truncated chorus) can add freshness and surprise. Of course, Bollywood still uses the chorus to great effect, as do the great Hollywood musicals.

SUBPLOTS ARE OKAY

Aristotle has been misinterpreted by many screenwriting teachers. Michael Tierno, for example, believes that Aristotle’s suggestion that “The perfect plot, accordingly, must have a single, and not (as some tell us) a double issue” means subplots are a weakness and Hollywood screenplays must follow one storyline only. This is not the case.

The quotation comes from Aristotle’s discussion of tragedy, merely one form of story. When he contrasts tragedy and epic he states, “One should also remember what has been said more than once, and not write a tragedy on an epic body of incident (i.e. one with a plurality of stories in it), by attempting to dramatise, for instance, the entire story of the Iliad. In the epic owing to its scale every part is treated at proper length; with a drama, however, on the same story the result is very disappointing. This is shown by the fact that all who have dramatised the fall of Ilium in its entirety, and not part by part, like Euripides, or the whole of the Niobe story, instead of a portion, like Aeschylus, either fail utterly or have but ill success on the stage; for that and that alone was enough to ruin a play by Agathon.”

Far from being a universal principle, the ban on multiple stories and subplots is genre specific. Aristotle is telling us not to use multiple themes in tragedy; save them for the epic.

ART VS. POPULIST

It is the epic, with its multiple stories, not the tragedy with its single story that gets the tick of approval from the non-vulgar.

“The question may be raised whether the epic or the tragic is the higher form of imitation. It may be argued that, if the less vulgar is the higher, and the less vulgar is always that which addresses the better public, an art addressing any and every one is of a very vulgar order. It is a belief that their public cannot see the meaning, unless they add something themselves, that causes the perpetual movements of the performers—bad flute-players, for instance, rolling about, if quoit-throwing is to be represented, and pulling at the conductor, if Scylla is the subject of the piece…. The one, accordingly, is said to address a cultivated audience, which does not need the accompaniment of gesture; the other, an uncultivated one. If, therefore, Tragedy is a vulgar art, it must clearly be lower than the Epic.”

Another screenwriting guru who has misinterpreted Aristotle is Jeff Kitchen. In “Writing a Great Movie” he has an excellent dissertation on dilemma, and how it enhances and enriches a screen story. Unfortunately he unnecessarily attempts to give his thesis more credibility by suggesting that “dilemma” was one of the elements expounded by Aristotle. It wasn’t.

CONCLUSION

As a screenwriter you should read Aristotle’s “Poetics”. It will help you discover universal story telling principles that have stood the test of time, it will enhance your credibility as an intellectual artist and, if you completely misinterpret the text, very few people will notice.

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Back Stage Books. New York, New York. 2008. 192 pages.

ISBN-13: 978-58065-070-0 ISBN-10: 1-58065-070-8 Amazon: US $13.57

THE AUTHOR

Linda Cowgill has written films for Paramount, Warner Brothers, Universal, MGM and several small independents. She also has television credits – her first job was junior screenwriter for “The Incredible Hulk”.

Following the birth of her daughter she moved from writing to teaching, running seminars and workshops at the American Film Institute, the Kennedy Centre in Washington, D.C., the Boston Film Institute, Loyola Marymount University, IFP Miami and NALIP. She currently heads the Screenwriting Department at the Los Angeles Film School.

Her first book, “Secrets of Screenplay Structure”, was published in 1999; her second, “Writing Short Films”, in 2005. “The Art of Plotting” is her latest work, and it offers “…insight into key issues in plot design and construction: how to put your information together to make your story more powerful and important to your audience”.

W.T. PLOT?

The Oxford Dictionary definition of “plot” is “the interrelationship of the main events in a play, novel, film etc”. To Cowgill, this definition is barely adequate. For her, plotting is all about emotion.

“Emotion,” she says, “has always been a part of the screenwriting lexicon; it just hasn’t been explained well.” It is not as easy to discuss as actions, obstacles and complications. It involves an understanding of human natures and basic psychology. Emotion connects with the audience and makes the audience react. Good writers, according to Cowgill, know how they want their audience to react.

Emotion has always been a part of the screenwriting lexicon;
it just hasn’t been explained well.

Generally we don’t see films for intellectual ideas – we go for the excitement, suspense and laughs. The emotion we generate helps us connect with other people. We may not experience all the protagonist’s highs and lows directly, but with other viewers we share the protagonist’s emotional experiences vicariously. The way the characters react ultimately conveys meaning to the audience.

ACTION AND REACTION

She begins with the basic definition of drama – a character who wants something and takes action against obstacles to attain this want. This leads to conflict, but conflict is not as important as the meaning of conflict. Scenes that show conflict, but not the result of the conflict, fail to fully connect emotionally with the audience. Therefore plotting must involve the structuring of the action and the reaction of the characters to achieve the intended emotional effect.

Professional scripts are based on strong, simple story lines that feel complex because they are so well developed. Amateur scripts tend to be overplotted in terms of action and underplotted in terms of character.

There is an old cliché that says character is revealed through action. Cowgill extends this idea, suggesting characters are revealed through action and emotional reaction. She gives the example of “Erin Brockovich”, who in Act I is desperate, angry, defensive and alienated. She is a victim and does not like being a victim. In Act II she is vulnerable and depressed as well as angry, but by Act III, when she is needed and validated, she rediscovers her inner confidence and succeeds. The emotional plotting of “Erin Brockovich” is a great example of successful screenwriting.

Many writers don’t truly understand
what conflict means to their stories,
so they don’t use it effectively.

Characters develop through conflict. According to Cowgill, “Many writers don’t truly understand what conflict means to their stories, so they don’t use it effectively. They either dissipate the tension by relegating the conflict to the background or pump it up gratuitously into meaningless violence. Conflict isn’t some arbitrary device used simply to create tension to hook the audience. It is an essential ingredient for a great film.”

Her examination of conflict leads to the principles of action or, more precisely, the principles of action and reaction. This is the basis of plotting – cause and effect. One scene leads to another, dramatising the hero’s pursuit of his goal. The old rule, “show, don’t tell” should be altered to “dramatise, don’t tell”, according to Cowgill.

RISING CONFLICT

The relationship between the scenes is intensified by rising conflict, and Cowgill shows a simple way to ensure a plot has rising conflict. She suggests a table that breaks down each scene to show whether the outcome of the scene is positive, negative or neutral (denoted by +, – and 0). She demonstrates her tables using “Jaws” and “American Beauty” and noted there are more failures and setbacks (-) than positive outcomes, particularly in Acts I and II. This simple method of plotting rising conflict and tension is an excellent screenwriting tool and one of the most useful devises in the entire book.

In the chapter, “The Tools of Plotting”, Cowgill examines complications, reversals, revelations and expositional tools. A short chapter on structure, which basically outlines the sequence method, follows. Then “The Real Art of Plotting” takes all Cowgill’s theories to a deeper level.

Finally she offers a chapter on common problems in plot construction, with subheadings including, “Scripts Overplotted in Action”, “Signs of Overplotting”, “The Exposition Isn’t Tracking” and “Understanding When the Audience Knows What”.

CONCLUSION

“The Art of Plotting” offers something that most other screenwriting books overlook – the role of emotion in the audience’s experience of the film. This is the major point of difference. It is an excellent book and is highly recommended.

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Oxford University Press, Oxford 298 pages.

ISBN-978-0-19-921142-5 Amazon Price: US $10.17

I recently watched “Public Enemies”, Michael Mann’s portrait of John Dillinger, and came away very dissatisfied. John Dillinger was Public Enemy Number One, and Johnny Depp is a great Hollywood character actor. I therefore thought “Public Enemies” would give me a deep insight into one of most interesting personalities in American criminal history.

The film gave me no insight into Dillinger’s character.

It didn’t. “Public Enemies” told me next to nothing about Dillinger’s character. He seemed to enjoy his work, was stupid enough to take great risks for little reward, was keen to help fellow gangsters who had unfortunately been shot and, by punching out strangers when they asked for their hats, was able to impress girls. But beyond that, nothing. The film gave me no insight into Dillinger’s character, his personality or his motivations.

WHAT IS CHARACTER?

This led me to think about personality and screen characters. How many times do you hear movie goers mutter as they leave the theatre, “I just didn’t get that character”?

What does “just didn’t get” mean? It means the writer did not create scenes with enough information to give us a true understanding of the character’s personality.

There are many screenwriting books that devote multiple chapters to character; indeed, there are many screenwriting books that concentrate solely on character. Most of them drag out the hoary old Henry James quote about character being the determination of incident.

They tell us how to create a character with traits that
relate to the story, but neglect all the other character traits.

Some of them go on to suggest that screen characters have a dramatic need, an attitude and a point of view. But none of them seem to discuss the personality traits of a screen character that have nothing to do with this dramatic need. They tell us how to create a character with traits that relate to the story, but neglect all the other character traits.

In other words, they tell us how to create a one dimensional character. Furthermore, most of these books get sidetracked by Hollywood’s strange demand for a quasi-religious all-redeeming (and in real life very rare) character arc. (Dillinger’s lack of a character arc is the only redeeming feature of “Public Enemies”).

Screenwriters are generally not psychiatrists.

To really understand the personality of a character, it is preferable to consult a psychology text rather than a screenwriting manual. Screenwriters are generally not psychiatrists; nor do they have time to wade through all the latest books on personality theory. But a short primer on the subject that includes up to date research in the area of personality theory can only assist in producing well rounded characters that an audience will understand.

THE AUTHOR

Daniel Nettle’s “Personality” is one such book. Nettle is a Reader in Psychology at the University of Newcastle, has a First Class honours degree in psychology, a PHD in Biological Anthropology and is the author of six other books on psychology and a host of academic papers in the same field.

His analysis summarises the latest theories of personality in an easy, digestible form.

FIVE DIMENSIONS

There is a consensus of opinion amongst psychologists that all human behaviour can be classified by five personality dimensions – Extraversion, Neuroticism, Conscientiousness, Agreeableness and Openness. The levels of these character traits can be measured with a surprising degree of accuracy by a number of personality tests.

These tests can be as brief as the 12 question Newcastle Personality Assessor, found in the back of Nettle’s book, or more comprehensive tests (which nine times out of ten give the same answers as the briefer tests) based on the International Personality Item Pool (IPIP). One such test with 50 items and 5 factors can be found at https://ipip.ori.org/ipip.

A high score in Neuroticism, for example,
is a good predictor of divorce.

Personality tests tend to give similar results over a long period of time, and they tend to be good predictors of behaviour. A high score in Neuroticism, for example, is a good predictor of divorce. In the 1950’s and 1960’s (when men were generally the sole breadwinners) a low score for a man in Conscientiousness was also a divorce predictor.

Sociable and optimistic people are more likely to die young (if this worries you read the book), while conscientious people tend to live longer.

SCREEN CHARACTERS

Many people find the results of their personality tests quite confronting. Not so screen characters. You can assess a screen character without worrying about his reaction. (If your character commits suicide after receiving the results of his personality test your writing is much too realistic).

You can assess a screen character
without worrying about his reaction.

Furthermore, questions posed by the Newcastle Personality Assessor and IPIP tests might suggest one or two scenes that will help reveal your character’s personality. If, for example, your character is an extravert could show him starting a conversation with as stranger, or insulting someone (scenes based on two of the Newcastle Personality Assessor questions). His degree of neuroticism, conscientiousness, agreeableness and openness can also be expressed just by placing the character in circumstances that allow these traits to be revealed.

Once you have created your character you can assess him on the basis of a personality test. You can then see if you have produced a well rounded personality that your audience will understand.

DILLINGER ASSESSED

I gave the John Dillinger character the Newcastle Personality Assessor and he was able to answer only two of the twelve questions. No wonder I found “Public Enemies” unsatisfying.

I then submitted ten of the characters in filmsite.org’s “100 Greatest Movie Characters of all Time” and found on average they could answer ten out of the twelve questions.

I am sure that Nettle did not write “Personality” with screenwriters in mind, but there is no reason why you should not exploit his wisdom. Fictional characters are a reflection of real characters.

When Nettle says “…there are five broad personality dimensions along which we differ, and which cause us to behave in certain ways…” you could easily substitute the words “screen characters” for “we” and “us”..

ORIGINS OF MOTIVATION

He goes on to say that “…a great deal of what happens in our interests, careers, relationships, romantic lives and health follows from where we fall along these continua.” These are determined by “… firstly genetics, and secondly, various early life influences over which we have no control and which seem essentially irreversible.”

This last phrase echoes expressions found in screenwriting handbooks, such as the “character’s backstory”, “primary emotional state”, “original defining moment” and “character flaw”.

Put aside your screenwriting books and
delve into this quick primer on personality theory.

So if you find some of your characters are not fully rounded and you are concerned that your audience will not “get” them, put aside your screenwriting books and delve into this quick primer on personality theory.

You cannot create a character out of a personality test, but you will quickly note aspects of that character’s personality that you have neglected. When you rectify this problem, your character will come to life, or at least won’t die in the cinema or, as in Dillinger’s case, outside it.

– Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.
He has written 12 scripts, one in pre-production in the UK and one in pre-production in South Africa.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.

Jack Brislee

Jack Brislee is a business broker and property developer by day and a screenwriter by night.

He has written dozens of scripts, including the Travis Fimmel vehicle Danger Close: The Battle Of Long Tan, which he co-wrote with Stuart Beattie and The Story Shop.

He collects and dissects books on screenwriting.