I love teaching, I adore my students, and I’m fortunate enough to see some good results, as some of my students go on to build a writing career.

Yet, I am growing increasingly frustrated.

There is a missing component in the learning of these young people. Some take the initiative to fill in the blanks, but others aren’t even aware of what is missing.

By just taking courses, there is little chance you will survive the real world.

So what else do you need?

Let’s first look at the positive aspects of books, courses and gurus.

Book, Courses And Gurus

I have written about the merits of film school. You can learn a lot from the experts through books, courses and videos. I have the best memories of binge reading screenwriting books, and then attending lectures by the authors.

In some instances, you can speed up the process of understanding how screenplays work, what has worked in the past and what hasn’t.

You’ll also learn the systems and terminology used in our industry.

Courses give you a general overview, based on more material than you can process in a lifetime. You learn about genres and styles outside your taste, which will help you communicate with professionals.

Books and courses give you different perspectives. No matter how long you study a subject, you’ll still only see it through the lens of your own eyes.

Screenwriting courses may give you a wholly new, valuable point of view.

However, one of the biggest problems with courses, is that only little of what you learn specifically relates to the work that you (will) write.

Therefore it is essential that you get feedback to your own work. It will help improve your performance, and level up to the requirements of the market.

Talk, Don’t Write

One of the local film schools offers their students industry feedback. Professional script consultants come in to help the students improve their scripts from first to final draft. It’s great. Students love it.

Not only is this an introduction to how the industry works; it is an invaluable addition to the lectures. Lecturing is a transfer of knowledge in bulk. The consults provide bespoke feedback, different for each student. Even if two students struggle with the same issue, they may need different solutions.

Consults outclass written reports. In the studio system, notes are a standard form of communication with writers. But without produced credits, you will benefit far more from a direct two-way conversation.

In a live consultation, you are able to ask questions, and so can the consultant. This helps define your objectives, as well as the issues standing in the way of achieving them.

The Consult Is Your Inmost Cave

Most of us work better and faster when we can verbally discuss our work, rather than write or read about it in a snapshot report.

Many aspiring writers are not familiar with the lingo, and consultants should not have to explain or define every concept in a report.

A good script consultation is a mini-workshop, where client and consultant work together to determine the priorities for future work, and the way they could be addressed by the writer. The best consult is an intense, inspiring and rewarding experience for both sides.

A welcome side-effect of some consultations is that writers discover what they are actually writing about.

Often new writers are not aware of the themes they infuse their stories with.

As a consultant, you are in the privileged position of discovering these themes with the writer. What is their world view? What bugs them, and how do their stories comment on society?

A great consult creates an Inmost Cave, for writers to discover their own voice.

It allows them to develop their voice, and articulate their ideas in ways that the industry and the audience will understand. Sometimes it allows them to clarify, sharpen and refine their ideas.

Often these young writers are yet to find their path in life, and their writing provides a valuable introspection into their values, hopes and dreams. As a consultant, it is a humbling experience to be there, and witness this fascinating process.

And yet, no matter how inspiring, poetic and even mythical these experiences may be, they are no substitute for learning from the source.

Back To The Screenwriting Source

A few years back, a member of a screenwriting forum was eaten alive when he dared to ask for a method to learn screenwriting for free. Many of the readers had paid good money for their education, and they came down on the boy to annihilate him.

It turned out the boy didn’t know any better. He was new to screenwriting, and with a mental health disorder he didn’t know how to be diplomatic when asking his question.

It set me thinking.

Screenwriting books and gurus have only been around since the 1970’s, while some of the very best movies were written long before.

How did screenwriters learn the craft before there were any gurus around?

My guess? From reading great screenplays, stage plays, and novels.

It seems that we have collectively forgotten that the best learning lies in the best scripts. Yet, students these days seem to believe they can educate themselves without opening a single screenplay.

From reading lots of great scripts, you can learn style, structure and dialogue, virtually by osmosis.

One of my most dedicated students used to read a full-length feature screenplay every day, for months. This experience helped him so much, that he skyrocketed to the top of the best screenwriting contests, and was introduced to Hollywood agents. You can do this, too.

To be perfectly honest, though…

Just reading scripts is not going to cut it, either.

Enter Immersion

Thousands of screenplays are available online at any given time. They’re only a download away. So why don’t we all get to work, like, now?

It turns out to be a massive challenge to tell the wheat from the chaff.

Many are mere dialogue transcripts, which is utterly useless for the screenwriter who wants to learn how to use proper formatting and descriptive style.

Others are butchered versions, converted from one format to another, and ending up in a crappy TXT or – even worse – HTML format.

And only a few dozen scripts are available freely from their rights holders.

Fortunately, some sites publish a curated offering of these scripts, so you don’t have to make the selection for yourself.

In my view, once you are reading a rock solid selection of the best scripts, the only other mandatory daily action you need to take, is: write.

This is why after teaching screenwriting courses for nearly ten years, I decided to completely overhaul the philosophy behind my teaching.

I made a thorough review of what had worked in the past, and what didn’t.

I looked at which students had been successful, and who failed. Then I looked at the practices of working screenwriters, and built a system that helps writers build better habits, and prepare them for the writing of a professional screenplay draft. All without a tutor.

I named the course Immersion Screenwriting.

The results have been phenomenal.

The writing exercises I designed for this course emulate some of the brain processes of the seasoned screenwriter. Others are meant to create a steady writing habit, while building some sort of format muscle memory.

By performing these exercises on a daily basis, you adopt the practices of the professional screenwriter effortlessly. The basic version of the course runs for seven weeks (50 days), enough to change or create a new habit.

Take Action

If this all sounds like something you’d like to try, head over here.

If you have spent hundreds or thousands of dollars on screenwriting courses and consults, rest assured that none of that was a waste. You will have acquired a top level understanding of the screenwriting trade.

But to get in the successful habit of writing effective screenplays, you need to not only know but feel what a great script looks like. This takes some time, and a fair amount of reading.

You need to know your genre inside out, you need to know its flagship movies and writing conventions. In addition, you need to be able to apply a contemporary writing style.

Readers want to enjoy your screenplay not only for its story, but also for its reading experience.

So, what script are you reading next?

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

So here I am about to approach three years in L.A. (June 10 to be exact) and I feel the need to share my journey once again despite completely falling off the radar for well over a year with this confronting piece of my Hollywood sojourn.

As I look back, it’s been an up and down rollercoaster ride full of trials, tribulations, emotion and adventure. But then what else was it ever going to be. While I have disappeared for months at a time (across social media, email and more), I am still alive, I’m still kicking, and I’m still flying the flag as best I can.

 To be honest, that’s not always been easy. In fact, it’s been bloody hard at times.

 There have been days where I have wanted to be anywhere else but this city. I’ve not left the country, let alone this state, in the three years I have been here, and if you know me you know how much I love travel. So it feels like I have been going stir crazy. 

 But I found some solace as I discovered but then subsequently lost a relationship – my first here in the U.S and my first in over three years. And while I look back on that year we had with mixed emotions, I can only smile and say thank you to one very special woman who took her own serious leap of faith, and embraced me and my journey and in the process turned me into an even greater version of myself than I could have ever imagined. I am forever changed as a result. 

 But she wasn’t the only woman I had to say goodbye to that year.

 I lost a grandmother and step sister all within six months of each other last year but I didn’t go back. I was super close to my gran and she used to take great delight in reading these articles. I miss her, and writing postcards from abroad just isn’t the same.

I left Australian shores knowing I may never ever see her alive again. But it was with her gentle words of encouragement that I was able to make peace with that cold, hard reality.

 When she died last Mother’s Day, not only did I cry as the news filtered through, but I also had a beautiful vision of her that morning. She appeared before me and whispered: “Keep writing.” It was a profoundly affecting vision.

While all this disquietude, chaos, and loss was going on around me, somehow the only thing keeping me sane was my writing. And thank fuck! Because I am not sure where I would have been without it.

 I found myself sinking into a slow depression-like state during July yet I kept writing. My relationship was breaking down all around me but still I wrote. My grandmother passed, I wrote. My step-sister slowly had her life taken away after battling a brain tumor for years, more writing.

In the space of that one year, while my entire world was collapsing around me (even now I can shed some tears if I allow myself to reflect), my writing was my saviour. I wrote more than I ever have, I became more professional than I’ve ever been, and I churned out four feature scripts over the course of that year. One of which I pitched and which subsequently beat out over 40 other submissions vying for the gig.

 After my relationship broke down I also found myself in the position of moving out of the only apartment I had ever known during my entire time here. I stepped up as a man and offered my ex-girlfriend the space. A space that no longer felt like home. A space that allowed her a better chance to survive in this town than me.

I then found myself in North Hollywood, and while that sounds glamourous, it really isn’t. There are two very distinct parts to North Hollywood. The cooler, funkier ‘Arts District’ and what is unaffectionately called, “the ghetto”. Somehow I went from the clean, green, central beauty of Studio City, to a dirty, dry backwater Mexican suburb (nothing against Mexico).

From a private, spacious, comfortable apartment for myself and my girlfriend, to a smaller, cramped two bedroom place with two other guys – one of which slept on a couch in the lounge room.

 At times I have felt embarrassed by my living situation but this town can be brutal and sometimes you are forced to go backwards to move forwards. But when you are freelance copywriter and the Australian dollar drops (and hard), you are forced to make some serious changes.

 I hated going to bed alone. I didn’t like where I now found myself. I was miserable.

While I never ever lived above my means, I had to go where I could afford. It made me withdraw even further and made me truly understand the definition of humble, but what was more important, to look myself in the mirror and ask some very genuine, honest questions of myself.

 But it has all served to only strengthen my resolve and succeed where many others would have failed, fled or simply given up.

 My year turned and I met and fell into the most amazing, supportive writing group I have found during my time here, after I was fortunate enough to be accepted into a new writing program I applied for.

 It was the first time I felt ‘home’ among like-minded people. A writing group that despite my repeated searches and hopes, I had never ever found in the two years prior.

 And now this group of people I can call friends. How I have craved that. As I retracted from the outside world, I found my friendship base here shrink. In part due to changing dynamics as others disappeared, while a couple of others put their head down to become more professional themselves but also because I was seeking something deeper from myself, my writing… my heart.

It’s a writing group that’s made up of some talented and successful people where I have seen their valuable input and feedback further enhance, improve and rocket my writing skyward. A group of only seven other people who I get enormous pleasure from in so many ways. I cannot thank them enough.

Somehow I overcame a very tough, emotional year and became not only a greater writer for it but a kinder, more sincere, more authentic and honest me.

It’ll be three years in June since I first made the leap, and it’ll be three years I will celebrate in my own quiet, genuine way as I look back. I’m thankful for how far I’ve come, for what I have achieved, for where I now find the level of my writing, but most important of all, where I now find myself as a man.

So raise a glass and cheer on a man who continues to stare down this town. A man who is not afraid of a single thing. A man who will not make up the numbers. A man who will succeed. Because I have faced hardship, loss, death and yet I continue to smile and write.

Here’s to an even greater year of writing, greater success, greater wealth, and so much more as I continue to pursue dreams, my passion, and love.

– Mark Rasmussen

Mark Rasmussen

Mark Rasmussen has been a professional writer for over 15 years. He has written and produced three short films (two of which have IMDb credits), as well completed four features. One of his films ranked inside the Top 10 for the World Wildlife Fund competition (WWF). He is currently working on three feature scripts, two book adaptations, a TV pilot, and a web-series, as he increases his thirst for great writing and storytelling.

For years, I blindly followed this dogma, as it seemed to make a lot of sense. Learn from good and bad examples. Don’t we all do that in other fields? With hundreds of screenplays readily available for download from www.script-o-rama.com, www.imsdb.com and other sources, it appeared to be a quick and easy way to study the craft of scriptwriting.

But does it?

On average, I try to watch a movie a day, either in the cinema or on DVD. With the birth of my son late 2004, that became a bit more of a challenge. I found myself falling asleep in the second act. To remedy the ‘early fatherhood syndrome’, I would make notes, forcing myself to stay awake. As long as I had the discipline, I would even type them up into structural diagrams.

Suddenly, I had a revelation: the more I liked the film, the easier it was to find the Aristotelian three act structure and the principles of dramatic tension.

Revelation? Hardly.

What was truly phenomenal was that to crack the key to the film’s story structure, it had taken me only the duration of the film plus a few minutes. If I had read the screenplay instead, I’d have spent hours reading and taking notes – and only then would I be able to start work on piecing together the structure. A finished film underscores the drama in ways that help you identify the importance of the beat, scene or sequence: through music, fades or the use of light and colour (Soderbergh’s TRAFFIC is an extreme example).

At the time of writing I was developing a story with Wojciech – “Aerosol” – Wawrzyniak, whose structure is vaguely similar to Kenneth Brannagh’s MARY SHELLEY’S FRANKENSTEIN (thank you, Chris) so we decided to read the screenplay and watch the movie.

That’s when the true value in reading screenplays became apparent: it allows you to compare script and finished film. It shows the areas where filmmakers struggled, where what was on the page didn’t translate into what was onscreen.

Comparing script and film also reveals where directors made last minute decisions because they didn’t believe the script worked (or more often, the money ran out). A great example is the Chicago Train Station climax in THE UNTOUCHABLES. Mamet’s original Third Act had Capone’s accountant going on the train, with a chase and shootout following. However, De Palma had blown the budget and was forced to improvise.

For years, De Palma had been dreaming of shooting a homage to Eisenstein ‘Odessa Steps’ sequence from THE BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN. A budget issue in THE UNTOUCHABLES finally threw the opportunity into his lap. In my view, reading lots of screenplays is the hard way to learning how to write good stories. However, analyzing a few classic scripts in terms of language, style and formatting may help you find the right balance to turn your final draft into a better read.

– Karel

by Karel Segers

A chase is never just a chase.

Have you noticed that the biggest scenes with movement, travel, running, chasing etc. usually happen at particular times in great movies? Have you ever taken the time to reflect on this? Believe me, this is no coincidence.

In the Hero’s Journey, these scenes or sequences are called ‘Threshold Sequences’. The hero travels, not only from one place to the next, but from one state of mind – or state of being – to the next. So these stages of movement occur whenever the hero is ready to move on, usually after an important turning point: the Act One Climax, the Mid Point or the Act Two Climax.

Moving on.

Most screen stories are about change. Change for the characters (triggered by the world around them) or change in the world (triggered by the main character).

Change is about moving on. And moving on is symbolized by movement.
The mythical dimension of movement can take many forms, at least as many as there are functions of mythology. It can be about having faith and being ready to dive into the unknown. Or about exploring (and imagining) uncharted parts of the universe. Sometimes it represents a ‘movement’ in our society but most often it is about completing a psychological stage. This can be coming of age, overcoming fear or grief, etc.

An escape or chase can be about embracing change but still being afraid of the past catching up. The obstacles in these stages of movement are called ‘Threshold Guardians’ and they represent the characters’ reluctance to embrace the change.

Great movies have lots of movement.

Just look at the structure of last year’s Toy Story 3 to see how often Woody and his bunch are traveling, running, driving, flying. First there is the travel from home to Sunnyside. Next, Woody chooses to return to Andy and at the beginning of Act Two he leaves the other toys to embark on a fabulous threshold sequence through the corridors of Sunnyside, crossing the bathroom, climbing the roof, sailing over the playground and finally landing in a tree.

The second half of Act Two constitutes what is probably Pixar’s most elaborate and impressive threshold sequence. It starts with leaving the toy room, followed by crossing the playground where Baby is a major threshold guardian. Next the toys climb through the garbage chute and end up in the garbage truck. In any other movie, this would signify the Ordeal but it is effectively only a modest taster. The threshold sequence keeps moving even after the toys arrive at the tip. They end up on the conveyor belt that will transport them to the Cave. An unforgettable, instant-classic sequence of pure cinema.

Movement is inherently cinematic.

If your script is full of dialogue and talking heads, you may end up with interesting drama but it will never be mythical. Your movie will never be big. Pure cinema shows characters in motion at those points in their journey when they require it. To understand how much movement a good story can absorb and where to best place it, have a look at the structure of the biggest movie ever.

Remember, the word cinema comes from the Greek word “kine”, which means “motion”.

Refusing the Travel

I’m working on a screenplay with a highly experienced team and the story rocks. Until the third act. After the mid point, the hero decides to follow the love interest to an exotic destination but just before the end of the movie, the hero decides against it and stays put.

It feels wrong.

We’ve gone through so much trouble with this character and at the end she decides to just stay where she is. Now, the character has a perfectly valid – and emotionally understandable – motivation to NOT travel. But it still doesn’t work for me. It feels like a story for a small audience.  The decision not to travel feels very much like a refusal to change. And audiences want to believe that the hero – and they themselves – are capable of change.

You are writing a Road Movie

The road movie is the ultimate ‘vehicle’ for a character on a journey of reflection and change. Have you noticed that every main character in every movie reaches the destination a different person? And even if they don’t reach their destination, like e.g. Thelma and Louise, they are fundamentally transformed characters.

In my Character Development seminars on 9 and 10 October, I will show more examples of different types of movement in stories and explain what this means for the characters.

Movement is essential for change.

Travel as a symbol for change was probably never deliberately introduced as a story device. Its origins go back much earlier than any written story tradition and it is effectively part of the collective unconscious, which some say is hardwired in our brain. Just look at the oldest surviving culture on our planet and its rite of passage called “walkabout” to support this theory.

Do you have lots of movement in your story? In the right places?

– Karel Segers

Karel Segers is a producer and script consultant who started in movies as a rights buyer for Europe’s largest pay TV group Canal+. Back then it was handy to speak 5 languages. Less so today in Australia. Karel teaches, consults and lectures on screenwriting and the principles of storytelling to his 5-year old son Baxter and anyone who listens. He is also the boss of this blog.

photo credit: LouisHvejsel

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

In other news:
:: Even when there’s no way, you believe.
:: Writing a script, first draft.
:: Should you pay for notes?
:: The unconventional Shawshank Redemption.
:: Five ways your writing ends up on the screen.
:: Script in a minute.
:: Showbiz terminology, a cheat sheet.
:: Story for free!
:: Vince Gilligan at BANFF.
:: M. Night, gossip fills seats.
:: Elements of act two: the midpoint.

_______________________________

COMING SOON to the Story Department:

• Story Breakdown of Toy Story 3

With thanks to Sol.

Enjoy!

Karel

It’s not the ones with the greatest script either, nor those with the most writing experience.

The ones who get their movies made are those who can make people believe they have the best movie idea, the greatest script and the right experience.

This means that much like your resume, you’ll have to change your story depending on who you’re talking to.

The investor with spare cash wants to hear a different story from the arty-farty airy-fairy government film development agent.

It doesn’t stop with telling a great story in your screenplay.

Once you have told that story, you need to start telling/selling another one.

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

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

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

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

The feature length follow-up to the 2004 Academy Award Best Animated Short Film winner HARVEY KRUMPET, MARY & MAX opened Sundance earlier this year.

M. Rodriguez spoke with writer-director Adam Elliot and producer Melanie Coombs about the writing process, festival fun and the move from short to long form claymation.

Interview by M. Rodriguez
Editor: Cleo Mees

TSD: I’m curious about your writing process – do you storyboard? Because I understand that a lot of animators prefer to storyboard and then write a script.

AE: No, I’m the other way round. I’m obsessed with the script. A lot of writers start with the three act structure and the plot, and then add detail. I start with the detail, and hopefully there will be a plot by the second draft. I start by thinking, “I want to have snails in this film – how am I gonna get snails in there?” So I have all these ingredients to thread together and that takes time.

I use a lot of adjectives in my scripts. I read other short film scripts and think to myself, where are the adjectives? “The man walked through the door…” That’s boring! How about, “The man with the long grey beard walked through the broken door”? I probably overuse adjectives. I don’t like to leave things out, I like the script to be as jam-packed as possible.

TSD: Why did you write your own script and not choose to work with a collaborator?

AE: I’m just too selfish. Even collaborating with animators and cinematographers, I found it difficult. We had script assessors and Melanie’s the script editor. But I think it’s the one part of the process where you have absolute control. Once we got into the studio I had to learn to collaborate and give away a bit more. And writing the script is the part I enjoy the most.

“A lot of writers start with the three act structure and the plot, and then add detail. I start with the detail, and hopefully there will be a plot by the second draft.”

TSD: Is there any difference in writing a script for claymation?

AE: No, when I write the script I imagine the characters as real. I think that keeps the characters more authentic. Some animators start with a drawing, whereas I’ll think of my pen friend, who the film is based on. If Disney are at one end, I’m at the other [end of animation productions]. There are no magic fairies in my scripts. It’s all about trying to create characters in a real, grounded world that we all identify with.

TSD: Do you describe how the characters would react and what their expressions are in the script?

AE: More so in the storyboards – where I do a lot of facial expressions. The storyboard is an elaboration of the script, but that’s more for the camera department and the animators. And it’s also a way to think up visual humour.

TSD: How did you enjoy yourself at Sundance?

AE: (Laughing) You don’t enjoy yourself at Sundance. It would have been more enjoyable has we gone as short-filmmakers or as people just going to see films – or even as filmmakers whose film wasn’t opening night. It was so much hype, so much expectation!

My job as director was to tell people, “It’s just a film. It has flaws.” And because it was cold outside [the theatre] everyone was packed inside. Everyone had had way too many coffees, and people were worrying about who would buy the film… The whole experience was just so intense!

The part I did enjoy about Sundance was the question-and-answer sessions after the screenings. Because I knew then that, even though we didn’t make all the reviewers and all the critics happy, we’d made the most important people happy – the audience. We knew that at least in America, or at least in Mormon country, we’d got a positive response.

MC: It was absolutely extraordinary! To think that we’re Australians, and that in its 25th year… Sundance is the touchstone festival for independent filmmakers around the world.

As a short film and documentary filmmaker, you’re always struggling to get noticed. But here, coming out of your party on the opening night and already finding a review that someone has posted at 2 a.m. is just like, “Whoa, we’re in a different world now.” I think we didn’t get nervous because it all felt so surreal.

“I think it’s your job as a director to be engaging and to really push the boundaries. My aim with Mary and Max was to create a lead character that you would never have seen anywhere else.”

TSD: This is a melancholic story about loneliness and acceptance with human simplicity and humour in your dialogues. How do you get that down on paper?

AE: In all my films, I try to get the balance between humour and pathos, and to get the right rhythm of storytelling – you know, having a bleak moment and then a comic moment without the audience getting distracted. And it’s really just an intuitive thing – writing, rewriting, reviewing and getting feedback.

The example I always use is my short film, Cousin. There’s a static shot where Cousin is standing in a picture frame with his mum and dad, and we hear that his parents have been killed in a car accident. At the same time, Cousin is wearing a t-shirt that says, “I Yodel for Jesus”. Audiences never know what to do with that moment, because they see the t-shirt and want to laugh, but they’re also hearing that information. You know, it’s like they’ve been belted over the head twice. But it keeps them awake, engaged, and it challenges them.

I think it’s your job as a director to be engaging and to really push the boundaries. My aim with Mary and Max was to create a lead character that you would never have seen anywhere else. Parts of him you’ve seen in other characters, but not as a whole. The same goes for Cousin, although Asperger’s is in a lot of films now and autism is in a lot of documentaries. It’s out there, and that‘s great because it means that people are being educated about the phenomenon.

MC: Adam’s storytelling style is the voice of an innocent in a complicated world. It’s not naïve. It’s like when you see a kid on a bus that suddenly screams to his mum, “Mum, mum! Why’s that man only got one leg?” The kid doesn’t know that’s rude. He’s just saying it because it’s true.

I first met Adam when I saw Cousin. After the film I went up to him said, “That’s the best film I’ve ever seen about a disability.” It was only a four minute animation, but it was just so honest. It wasn’t politically correct in that mean spirited way. It was like, that’s right, he does have a funny arm that moves up and down. People with cerebral palsy just have that sort of thing, and to not say those things is also incorrect.

TSD: I also noticed you’ve really exuded that irreverent Australian humour in the film…

AE: Yeah, the self-deprecating thing – which is something I think Americans struggled with in the film. What did they say? “Too many scatological references.” And they’re right, there are too many poo-gags. They’re for the kids… [laughs] No, but it is being irreverent and trying, again, to push the boundaries. My dad was an acrobatic clown, and he always said, “Don’t get carried away with being too serious in your films. There’s nothing wrong with being an entertainer.”

MC: The thing about America is that they don’t have the history of Wallace and Gromit, so they associate claymation with a pre-school, Bob-the-Builder kind of thing. So, for them to see Asperger’s syndrome, and references to prostitutes and homeless people and drugs and alcohol and attempted suicide, and homosexuality [in the film] – all the phobias… Well, it actually reminds me of a comment we got when we took Harvie Krumpet to L.A.

“The animation community is very open – we share our secrets – and these cameras had only just come out, so we were the guinea-pigs, basically.”

At one of the studios’ Q&A sessions, a woman put up her hand and asked, “Who let you make that [film]??” I loved that comment! It was just so American. I mean, she clearly loved the film but she must have been thinking, “I love this, but how on earth did it happen?” The heart towards independent filmmaking is different in every country, but independent films do not have any government subsidy (in the U.S.), and the idea that you can make a film purely for cultural reasons and get government support for it is something they think we’re really fortunate to have.

I tried to explain to them how difficult it is – that it’s really competitive and only 25 films get made a year [in Australia], and so on – and they sort of understand that, but the idea that we could put every phobia that Adam wanted in the script without someone telling us, “Oh, you can’t say that!” is still something they’d say we’re very fortunate.

TSD: I hear you got Aardman’s attention, and they came to visit you on set?

AE: Yeah, they sent a technician over because they’re about to go fully digital. They’re not going to use their film cameras anymore – so we’re told, and they just wanted to look at our system because there weren’t any other feature films being done in the same way. Our post-producer, Henry Karjalainen set up the system himself so that we got very high production values at a fraction of the cost. And they were fascinated as to how we did this! We were using local software from people down in Melbourne. Because most of the money was state-government money [Victoria], we were under a mandate to do things as locally as possible. The animation community is very open – we share our secrets – and these cameras had only just come out, so we were the guinea-pigs, basically. They wanted to see whether we’d died [filming] or not.

TSD: How do you feel that the process has changed since creating your first film, Uncle, and now that you’re doing it digitally?

AE: I don’t’ animate anymore, but our animators on Mary and Max said they found it liberating. They could see everything in high definition; they didn’t have to wait for their rushes to come back from the lab – they could see it within minutes of it being finished. So, suddenly they could do things that they never were able to do before. And that’s great for the whole worldwide animation community.

When I think of my first film, Uncle, which was shot on a little 16mm Bolex camera, it was a very different process. And it’s evolved for the better. When I left film school – I was at the VCA – I was told I was pursuing a “dying art form”.

TSD: But you were pushed to do Uncle as a claymation, right?

AE: Yeah, Uncle was accidental. I was going to do the film as a 2D animation, and there were seven other animators doing 2D films. There was a spare studio and a spare camera, and they said to me, “We think your film would look better as clay.” So I said, “Alright,” and off I went. My dad had a hardware shop at the time, so I got all the cheap wood and nails and glue… not thinking that this is what I would do! I thought I’d do kids TV or kids animation – something where I’d get paid well.

TSD: But you’re happy doing this?

AE: Yeah, some of my friends are 2D animators and I say to them, “How can you sit in front of that screen all day??” I love to get my hands dirty – I love cooking and I love gardening. If I don’t have stuff under my fingernails, I don’t feel alive.

“So I went out and bought a bottle of red wine, then I said to Adam, “Now, we never have to make it – it’s just for these meetings tomorrow, but by the time we finish this bottle of red, we’ve got to have a story.” That night I prodded away at him, until he started, “Well, I’ve got this pen-friend…” And I said, “Gold! Let’s go.”

TSD: Adam, you mentioned earlier that you left the animation to six animators [for Mary and Max]– were you very hands on during the shoot?

AE: No, but I did a lot of approving. I was always the first to arrive at the studio and the last to leave, and I did seven-day weeks for a year and a half, which was exhausting. But I’m a control freak and I have to have absolute control over everything, from a knife and a fork to a giant set. I even did all the character designs. I mean, in hindsight I could have let go of some of that. But because it was my first feature, I didn’t want it to look that different to Harvey Krumpet. I wanted people to look at Max and think, “That looks like an Adam Elliot drawing”. [Laughs] Someone worked out that it would take 225 years for me to make Mary and Max all by myself.

TSD: And how have you seen yourself evolve as a filmmaker, from your first film to your first feature now?

AE: I think it’s only in the last couple of years that I’ve been able to look back at my scripts and see why I’ve done them the way I have, and how they’ve become what they are. I think really good writers are angry writers. And I don’t like injustice. In the school playground I was always the one befriending the bullied kids – the kids that had autism or that were racially ridiculed, that didn’t have many friends. I wanted to learn more about them, and I wanted to defend them. So I think what I’m trying to do now with my films is to fight on their behalf – and entertain at the same time – without being preachy or too dogmatic. And I think audiences appreciate it.

MC: To me, all of Adam’s work is about accepting difference. The important thing his work says is that being open to difference is hard, but it’s ultimately totally rewarding. It’s what makes life worth living. And everyone, no matter how revoltingly different we all are or feel, craves love and acceptance.

Also, so often in life now, you’re being told to privilege either financial success or a romantic relationship. What about friendship? When your lover leaves you, who do you call? This film is really about the power of friendship in our lives and how important it is for us all.

TSD: Melanie, how did you get Adam to sit down after Harvie Krumpet winning that Oscar and write a feature? Because I know after Harvie, Adam was hoping to make a television series…

MC: Well, the studios actually said no to that idea. The way things work in the US is that they plan everything for you, you can’t do much yourself. After Harvie, our US agents said to us, “We’ve got all these studios lined up for you to meet. What are you going to pitch?” We said that we were thinking of a 13×5 minute series. To which they said “No, no, no! You’ve got to have a feature idea. Just come up with one just to meet these people.”

So I went out and bought a bottle of red wine, then I said to Adam, “Now, we never have to make it – it’s just for these meetings tomorrow, but by the time we finish this bottle of red, we’ve got to have a story.” That night I prodded away at him, until he started, “Well, I’ve got this pen-friend…” And I said, “Gold! Let’s go.” So we based it on his real relationship, except we made Adam – Mary, an eight-year-old girl to add a fictional element to it.

TSD: Well that was easy, I thought it would be hard because you said Harvie took you all over the world and you got so many different offers…

MC: Well, it was only because I literally told Adam, “I promise you we never have to make it.”

The studios didn’t really want us to make the film at first. What they would really like Adam to do is a children’s film. Which wouldn’t really be an Adam film, it would be a kiddie claymation. And that’s not why we’re filmmakers. We’ll probably never be super-rich, but we’re filmmakers because we genuinely believe in the passioned project of being Australian storytellers, and in the project of an Australian cultural life.

TSD: What do you do in your free time? I know you are passionate about meeting children or people who have disabilities. Do you get involved in these communities?

AE: After the Oscar win, many charities asked me to become associated with them, but I quickly learned that it’s best to focus on just one charity. I was approached by the Disabled Film Festival – I don’t use the word “disabled” a lot but that’s what they choose to call themselves – and I became their patron. I raise awareness about their festivals and their films, and I also get to meet some amazing filmmakers.

I don’t have a lot of spare time – but I enjoy cooking, and I’d love to spend some time drawing again. You just become a slave to your film. Mary and Max has been like we’ve just given birth and I’ve got a bit of post-natal depression. I’m about to go on my first two-week holiday in three years, but after that we’ve got Berlin and all this other publicity events. You’ve got to sell the film, of course, and it’s a tough film to sell. Melanie often says that with this type of subject matter is not easy, but it is ultimately rewarding if you stick with it.

MARY & MAX opens in Australia on 9 April.

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

Our guest this week is Eric McDonald, CEO of Zhura.com.

While screenwriting is rarely credited as a driver of new technology, it certainly benefits from technical innovation.  Screenwriters have enjoyed continuous improvement in the tools that allow them to work more efficiently, from the typewriter to personal computers to niche word processors.

A new wave of technology is improving things again, fueled by distributed computing and ubiquitous Internet connectivity.

With the rapid proliferation and accessibility of the Internet, software providers are changing the paradigm in terms of how they develop and offer their products.  Rather than sell (or rather: license) you a piece of software that you install on one or two computers, they create software that runs completely online, which you access on an as-needed bases.

Think of software as gym equipment. As a health enthusiast, you could go out and purchase the best equipment available for use in your home.  If you are disciplined, you will use it for an hour or so every day.  Contrast that with getting a gym membership:  no lump sum payment, no equipment maintenance, cost of equipment is spread among users, and an opportunity to meet people with similar interests.    Success for a gym relies on providing a quality service to a motivated group who has the ability to get to their facility.

All of the elements are in place for software companies to provide their software on an as-needed basis.  It’s called Software as a Service (SaaS), and you are already using it.

If you access your messages through Gmail or Yahoo, or you use Facebook, Bebo, Flickr, or eBay, you are using SaaS.  Ever thought about the fact that you have never needed to  “upgrade” Wikipedia?  It’s just out there, always up-to-date and available when you need it.

Software manufacturers are well aware of the benefits that a SaaS platform provides their business:

While none of the traditional screenwriting software providers currently offer products that run online, several new companies provide solutions that are just a mouse click away.  Each of these sport slightly different features and interfaces, so that the consumer can select the one that best meets their needs and goals. Early to market were Plotbot.com and Scriptbuddy.com, which provide basic industry-standard formatting.

More recent alternatives include Scripped.com and Zhura.com, both released in 2007.  Both provide the familiar “tab” and “enter” keystroke shortcuts, and  import/export from popular off-the-shelf software.  Zhura has also added community features and the ability to collaborate in real time.

Security is always a concern when working online.  Zhura, as well as other SaaS companies, believe that the overall security of an online solution is unmatched by desktop solutions.

Statistics show that one out of five hard drives will crash in their lifetime.  We’ve heard horror stories of people who have lost everything on their hard drive, only salvaging files that they had at some point sent through email, since they could log on to re-download.  Guess what, that email program is SaaS, with online storage.

Statistics on stolen laptops are staggering – 2000 are stolen daily in the United States.  It takes far less sophistication to grab someone’s laptop from a coffee shop than it does to crack into your online bank account (SaaS) service.  Online security, even more so than convenience and features, may be the most compelling reason for a transition to SaaS.

Internet data solutions are so plentiful and cheap, companies now routinely run their data centers on multiple, redundant servers, and perform daily backups.

There is an exciting new generation of software being deployed over the Internet.  It requires no installation, no upfront cost, no maintenance, and enables features that were unheard of as little as three years ago.  As these solutions find their way into specific areas such as screenwriting, they offer compelling and exciting new opportunities for consumers.

Unfortunately, they only make your screenwriting experience simpler, you still have to write the story!

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!

by Karel Segers

I still believe it is a wonderful independent film, well-structured and beautifully written. Usually I am not a fan of mannered dialogue but here, this stylistic trademark is delivered really well by Juno’s strong cast.

Update 1 May 2012: Following some good suggestions from readers, I have changed the Inciting Incident from Bleeker’s line “Do whatever you think is right” to what it is now. Thank you all for the comments and suggestions!

ACT ONE

Sequence A: One doodle that can’t be undid.

00.30 “AUTUM” Juno drinks juice. “It started with a chair.”
01.00 Flashback to the conception.
01.30 Opening Titles.
04.00 Third urine pregnancy test, Juno still won’t accept result.
05.00 There’s that pink “+” sign again.
05.30 Juno hangs a a candy noose off a tree, then eats it.
06.30 Juno calls best friend Leah to tell her. Disbelief. “Lunch baby?”
07.30 Juno with Leah, trying to figure out what to do.
08.30 FlashBack to how it started: Spanish Class
09.00 Bleeker getting ready to run.
09.30 Juno with Bleeker: Do whatever you think is right.
11.00 At school with Bleeker: they seem a pretty good match.
13.30 Juno calls for abortion info.
14.30 Juno VO about her past, mother and stepmum Bren.
16.00 Su-Chin: “All babies want to get borned”.

Sequence B: Crisis of conscience.

17.00 At WOMEN NOW: form to complete, free condom offered.
18.30 Juno waits, gets an anxiety attack and leaves.
19.00 With Leah: considering to adopt it out.
20.00 Reading adoption ads in the park: Mark & Vanessa sound good.
21.00 Bleeker at home, his mother doesn’t like Juno.
22.00 Juno tells her parents about the problem and her adoption plan.

25.00 Dad: Not ready to be a Pop-Pop. Mum: You know it wasn’t his idea.

ACT TWO

Sequence C: Mark and Vanessa Lohring.

26.00 Driving there with dad.
27.00 Meeting Mark, who is cool & Vanessa who is highly strung.
28.00 Decision for a closed adoption. Mark isn’t too excited.
31.00 Juno, on the way to the toilet, checks out the house.
32.00 Juno bumps into Mark, they bond over a Les Paul guitar & music.
33.30 Vanessa goes upstairs when she hears Mark singing: reprimands him.
34.30 Vanessa is insecure but Juno is 104% sure she will go ahead.

Sequence D: Will Vanessa be a good mum?

36.00 WINTER – Bleek is running & questioned about stuff by classmate.
36.30 Bleek offers Juno to skip his movie party and join for the ultrasound.
37.30 Ultrasound nurse insults Juno, Bren retorts fiercely.
40.00 Juno visits Mark to show scans, they bond.
43.00 J. & M. listen to Sonic Youth, watch horror, talk about baby’s name.
46.30 Vanessa shows lots of baby stuff, mentions a ‘cold feet’ experience.
48.00 Bren thinks Juno has crossed a boundary by dropping by at M. & V.’s.
49.30 Visiting Bleeker; he plans for the future, wants to get back together.
52.30 POV: Mark & Vanessa have different views about preparations.

54.00 At the mall: Juno & Leah see Vanessa, who seems a good future mum.
55.00 They meet Vanessa, who feels the baby kick.

Sequence E: Will Mark be a (good) father?

57.00 “SPRING” Bleeker is running, Bren is sewing stretch pants for Juno.
58.00 Calling Mark, they chat and bond over music and learning.
58.30 Leah tells about Bleeker & Katrina for prom. Juno doesn’t believe it.
60.00 Juno argues with Bleeker over Katrina.
63.00 Putting on lipstick, to Mark: he shows pregnant superhero cartoon.
63.30 Mark & Juno dance. M. says he’s leaving V. Juno is in shock.
67.00 Vanessa arrives, asks what’s wrong; Mark admits he has cold feet.

70.00 Juno drives off, pulls over, cries.
72.00 Bleekers plays the guitar // Juno writes a note.
72.30 Mark & Vanessa talk about divorce and lawyers.
73.30 Juno delivers her note to Mark & Vanessa.

74.30 Juno asks her dad about true love and happiness. He gives advice.

ACT THREE

Sequence F: I’m still in.

77.30 “Tic-tac-o-holic”. Mysterious delivery at night.
78.00 Bleeker finds tictacs. Juno visits him on the running track. Kisses him.
80.30 Water brakes.
81.00 Contractions, Juno begs for ‘spinal tap’.
81.30 Birth.
82.00 Bleeker running.
82.30 Juno with dad in hospital: You’ll be back – on your terms!
83.00 Bleeker visits, lies with Juno.
84.00 Vanessa visits to see the baby.
85.00 The note to Vanessa: “If you’re still in, I’m still in”.

Sequence G: Bleeker and Juno

85.30 SUMMER – Juno on bike, VO about Bleeker as a top boyfriend.
86.30 Playing the guitar together.

INCITING INCIDENT

Juno’s realisation of her pregnancy seems a very early Inciting Incident. Because of the repeated urine tests, it almost passes as a ‘normal life’ situation for this story. Why then IS it the Inciting Incident? Because Juno MUST act. Her life has changed irreversibly and she’s got to do something about it.

Twenty minutes of screen time pass between Juno’s realisation and the end of Act One. Why does this work? Possibly because of the sequential structure.

The first sequence is much less about the realisation of being pregnant than it is about the question ‘who is going to help me’? Until Bleeker says “Do whatever you think is right”, she is still trying to get the solution from others. After this, she knows she will have to come up with the answer.

What follows is still a 15mins long ‘think-think’ sequence. This works fabulously, because it leaves us all with the nagging moral question “what would I do?”. Because of the depth of the dilemma, it takes a certain amount of time for our heroine to properly consider these options.

Once she has decided, she puts her plan to her parents and with their blessing, Juno has an objective for Act Two.

MID POINT

While Juno’s Outer Objective is about responsibly carrying the baby, the strongest Inner Journeys are really Vanessa and Mark’s. Their behaviours display flaws that may impact on their parenthood: Vanessa acts highly strung and Mark appears strangely blasé about it all. Act IIa asks “is Vanessa a suitable mother?” and Act IIb gradually shows Mark to be unfit as a father.

Although Mark and Vanessa’s journeys are gradual and they evolve throughout Act Two, the shopping mall sequence / mid point is a powerful connection point for two reasons: 1) for Juno it answers the question whether Vanessa is really suitable to raise her child and 2) it will give Juno the strength to proceed once Mark bails out.

CRISIS/REWARD

The end of Act Two usually consists of two parts: the down part (Mark bailing out) and an up part (Dad offering hope). In this film it is executed in an extraordinary way as we will learn that Juno had made up her mind before getting her dad’s advice. While we are watching the film it seems as if she finds the strength from this conversation. When we finally get to see Juno’s note to Vanessa “If you’re still in, I’m still in”, we learn that the Act Two of her Inner Journey had completed before we saw it. This is consistent with the principle that the hero usually only gets ahead of the audience towards the second half of the movie.

Karel FG Segers

Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.

Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!