Stuff Happens

A mistake I see very often in the scripts of newer writers is this:

Backstory/set up, a lotta talking
A lot of STUFF happens
Flashback to something in the backstory
Character talks about his/her backstory
Maybe more stuff happens

By the way, my new screenwriting book: Stuff Happens, a Technical Guide for the Amateur Dramaturge is being released by Doubleday sometime in 2012. Just FYI. ;)

Where we were? Oh yes, in other words, new writers forget that the stuff happening should be concurrent with us getting to know your character - they are not two separate things with their own scenes or sequences. In other words, the dramatic narrative includes character development and backstory. Duh, right? But Waver, you would be shocked - SHOCKED - at how often writers fall prey to the Slow Scene in Which Nuttin' Happens.

The dramatic narrative and the character development (i.e., backstory, quirks, the struggle with the flaw) happen at the same time. When you separate them out, you wind up with a lot of pages on which no stuff is happening. And then what happens, Wavers? You get a bored, cranky reader because nothing is moving the story forward. Remember, your character's whole life is something they carry with them into every experience. So we don't really need, necessarily, a flashback of not getting chosen for the team - because the result of that has given your character a level of insecurity and not being good enough that colors everything in his or her world. And, taking it a step further, your character has actually honed that feeling down and externalized it into a flaw - say for example, being an exclusive, arrogant jerk. He or she is coping - negatively. And this coping mechanism will drive the story forward. Things don't just happen to your character, your character's flaw is part of why they happen they way they do.
This makes your character an active participant in all the shit that is raining down on his or her head throughout the story.

There are certain milestones along the way as you grow into and become a truly adept screenwriter. You know, back in our early beginnings, when we bought our first "how-to screenwrite" book, our scripts were self-indulgent, melodramatic, self-referrential, totally unmarketable junk. We've all been there, you might be there now - it's okay, it's a rite of passage.

One of the milestones is recognizing that this script is not about you or what you like but about what moves you and what is universal. Another milestone is taking off your black beret and realizing that movies are product, meaning that there are expectations and a ton of hardwork, that this industry is about bread and circus and you cannot expect to break in without learning some of the rules of the game.

And another milestone, the one I am referring to today, is that you need to get the adventure, the main crux of the conflict MOVING and keep it moving - and that you fold your character development into that narrative rather than take breaks to explain things. Keep. The story. MOVING. Scripts are like sharks (heh) - they need to keep moving. If you have an inactive scene or sequence, get out the machete.

I scribble notes on script pages that I am reading and here is, without a doubt, the word I scribble the most often: WHY?

Why does this scene exist? How is it moving the story forward?



Here are two examples, one old and one new, of a scene in which we get some backstory but it continues to move the story forward:

JAWS: The famous USS Indianapolis scene, in which Quint, in a brilliant monologue, recounts the horrible story of the seamen aboard that doomed cruiser in WWII. And how does it move the story forward - well, thematically, of course, the crew is picked off by sharks, one by one and our group is sitting there on their little boat knowing there is a shark-monster stalking them. But in the narrative, what happens at the end of that sequence - BOOM - the shark makes his presence known again.

In a more recent example, in 3:10 TO YUMA, Christian Bale has a whispered, very powerful monologue when he's alone with his wife in the bedroom and in that monologue he reveals just how low he has become since he was wounded in the Civil War. And he vehemently explains why he must undertake this dangerous task. And what happens at the end of this sequence? Knock, knock - time to go. You coming or not? And he goes.

Now if you are an argumentative type, you might argue that in both incidences, backstory takes up a fair few minutes of film time and these are not particularly active scenes. Yes and no. The characters are activated at the end of the scenes, the scenes highlight character flaw which will shortly become quite relevant and - here's the biggest point I want to make - the writing of each scene is five star, home run, knock out, memorable writing. So yeah, if you have a slow-moving scene in which you're going to sidetrack us momentarily and talk about the past or whatever - you damn well better make it THAT memorable.

If you are more of a beginner, the moral is this: Keep Stuff Happening. Don't languish in backstory or flashbacks or scenes in which your character cries in the shower then makes a TV dinner then falls asleep in the chair - all to service the idea that he is lonely. FANtastic. Loneliness as sledgehammer. We get it. You can be lonely in a crowd - but it's much harder to write that, isn't it? So don't go for the obvious, step it up. And remember - stuff needs to be happening - ALWAYS. Every scene must justify its existence and keep moving like a shark. Otherwise you wind up with a boring script, slowing suffocating in the silt at the bottom of the sea.

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