Some Do's and Don'ts of Fiction
Filmmaking
Let's begin with the ugly truth. Most beginners'
fiction films
stink, and they do so because they unfailingly reproduce a few
basic misunderstandings -- of drama, of screen dialogue, and
of what directing actors means. It hardly matters here why
these misunderstandings exist. They're interesting, but to
discuss them would be a lengthy and speculative business.
Let's get down to business. You're making fiction films, or
thinking of making them. You want to stand out from the
crowd. You want to know what goes wrong and how to avoid
it. Here area few tips.
THE PROBLEM OF THE TALKY SCRIPT
The script is a crucial blueprint in fiction cinema. Most
screenplays aren't cinematic; they are theatrical, that is, they
rely on speech to move the story. This is true to how we
experience the high points of our own lives--as significant
conversations--but it doesn't make inherently cinematic films.
The screen is best at behavior and action, and worst when it
gives us static dialogue scenes. In the average script,
dialogue is a crutch, and every extra word is a nail in the coffin
of what's cinematic.
The best way I know to develop a script is to stay
away from
the screenplay form as long as possible. Its theatrical layout
encourages one to write tracts of dialogue--to fill up those
great open white spaces. Write in step outline form, a new
paragraph for each sequence (a sequence being a block of
time covering one location or one idea). If you really can't do
without a dialogue exchange, simply summarize what the
dialogue is meant to cover (Ex: They discuss whether Terry
can borrow enough money to begin the journey.)
To write really cinematically, try to tell the whole
story through
behavior, action, and what people do as though it were a
silent film. This forces you to solve narrative problems
creatively because your characters have to do things instead
of say them.
With a step outline you can present your idea to an
"audience"
of readers and get early feedback. Working like this means
that everyone can see the plot contours clearly, as though
looking at an equation stripped down to its essence. Seeing
central structure so clearly means you can attend to primary
problems first. A good outline is easy and satisfying to expand
into a good screenplay.
THE PROBLEM OF THE PASSIVE CENTRAL
CHARACTER
Most of us feel we're a good person to whom other people do
bad things. In the vast mass of screenwriting this shows up as
the passive central character, a lethargic victim around whom
swirls an unaccountably interested world. The reader/viewer
however can't see why anybody would bother with such a
self-absorbed, lackluster person. The source of the problem
lies in the writer being habitually sensitive to how people act
on him (or her of course), and what this makes him feel, but
blind to how he constantly acts on those around him. (I know, I
said I wouldn't discuss causes, but as we experience, so we
create.)
Every truly dramatic character, like every person in
real life,
has an agenda that he is trying to fulfill. To judge a scene,
figure out every step of the way what each character is trying
to get or do. An audience can only tell how a character feels
by what he or she does. There's got to be action and reaction,
even though an active character may use a passive strategy
to get his way. He or she may be trying to avoid the
unwelcome attentions of a travel companion, or trying to get to
the next town with a borrowed bike, or trying to persuade a
travel agent to find a cheaper hotel. But each character must
be continually active, trying (often subtly) to get, do, or change
something.
When someone tries this, they either succeed or fail
in each
step. How they deal with human and material impediments
makes visible their inner lives and character issues. Analyze
any favorite sequences in a film, and you'll be able to break
the central character's progress down into steps. Sometimes
of course sequences exist to create a mood, but the meat and
potatoes of any story revolves around what the characters are
trying to accomplish.
Unsuccessful writing nearly always lacks this
awareness of the
conflict between will and obstruction to that will. It lacks
dramatic tension because it doesn't focus on a character's
unfinished business. Unfinished business is what every
interesting person carries within, it drives them forward, steers
their destiny, leads them to confront their demons. You and I
have unfinished business--it's a key part of our creative
identities.
THE PROBLEM OF UNCONVINCING DIALOGUE
Dialogue fails for any number of reasons. It can come from
poorly individuated characters who lack an active dramatic
identity. One cure is to spend time hanging out, observing
similar characters in life, and noting the behavior that betrays
their agenda and gives clues to their inner states. Often it is
not what we understand about another person that is
interesting, but their contradictions and idiosyncrasies that
fascinate us, those aspects that we have to ponder that hold
our interest because they don't make immediate sense.
Dialogue should be a form of verbal action. Rarely
should it be
a vehicle for ideas, for self-description, for mood, or even for
emotion. It should be a series of actions, that is, it should be
tools a character uses to accomplish something. Examine the
script of any film sequence you admire, and almost certainly
the words on the page are astonishingly minimal. That's not
life, it's art.
If you improvise dialogue, or transcribe real
dialogue as a
starting point, this is good. But edit and compress it to an
absolute minimum so the actors have to find action and
behavior to decompress the language. Compare a
Shakespeare text with a good screen version to see this.
Dramatic art is using compression and minimalism to give us
the essence of the real without its length and banality. Doing a
lot with a little. No screenplay that has gone through less than
ten or twenty drafts is ready to be filmed.
Another reason dialogue may lack conviction is that
all the
characters speak with one voice-- the screenwriter's. As the
writer or director, you need to enter each character in turn and
work out his or her life, find his or her needs, agenda, tastes,
humor, fears, expressions. And when it comes to directing,
you must cast actors who can breathe their own life into the
characters. Or they all become puppets for their author.
THE PROBLEM OF THE FILM IN WHICH
NOTHING REALLY HAPPENS
No matter how short a film may be, we demand one thing of all
drama--that somebody in it grows or changes. In a short film
this development might be something small and symbolic.
So here's another key question: in your script, who
develops
and how? All drama is about characters facing situations that
test them in some way. It doesn't matter if they succeed or fail,
nor whether it's a comedy, film noire, or tragedy. The central
character (or characters)must face issues that are important
to them, and must learn something, or the audience has
wasted its time. It might be that the main character bit off more
than she could chew; that the world doesn't care about her; or
that blind trust and someone else's belief got her through. The
need to develop, the difficulty of developing--that's what
stories deal with.
What does your story deal with? What does the
central
character learn, how does he/she develop? If he/she doesn't
develop, what does the movie show us that makes the
experience worthwhile?
THE PROBLEM OF WOODEN PERFORMANCES
Good performances can come from non-actors and bad
performances can come from actors with a good track record.
The secret to success lies in how the director briefs the actors
and what expectations and pressures are set up during
shooting. In low budget films and films by novices, this is often
done from a wrong understanding of the actor's reality. The
climate and expectation set by the director is the key. Another
is intelligent rehearsal that builds an ensemble.
(The article
is extracted from CFS) |
