2012 Movie #22 - Hannah and Her Sisters (1986) For my first viewing of the film in over 12 years, I was lucky enough to watch it in 35mm at the BFI in London. On second viewing, I’m less enamored with the Elliot (Michael Caine) and Lee (Barbara Hershey) storyline, but hugely charmed by the journeys of Hannah (Mia Farrow), Holly (Dianne Wiest), and Mickey (Woody Allen). The film features some of Woody’s best work as a dramatist, with impeccable scene and sequence construction. This is exemplified by the restaurant scene with the three sisters. The construction of this scene is simply incredible, with the dialog showing both clarity and subtlety, an unfortunately rare combination. Each sister has something they want to get out of the scene, and despite all of them having the best intentions towards each other, their goals are at odds. We see this in what the sisters are saying, and in what they are obviously struggling not to say. The scene serves to propel the narrative, give insight into character, shift the character arcs, and still remains highly compelling and entertaining. And it’s just three sisters talking at a table. Too many writers don’t understand the narrative point of a scene. Characters interact with each other to advance their personal goals, and we see a scene because the outcome of that interaction advances the narrative. If you don’t have a sense of character goals and you don’t have an interaction and you don’t have a resulting narrative drive… then it’s not a scene! Cut it from your script or figure out a way to turn it into a real scene. It’s astonishing how many films have scenes that serve no narrative or character purpose. This can be fine if the artistic point of the scene is to undermine traditional narrative expectations, or the filmmaker is seeking an alternative impact, but the problem is that you see it all the time in films that are ostensibly traditional narratives. If you don’t have a proper scene, it just becomes “stuff happening” which is the path to audience disinterest. What I’ll take away: Woody Allen sure knows how to write. High-res

2012 Movie #22 - Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

For my first viewing of the film in over 12 years, I was lucky enough to watch it in 35mm at the BFI in London. On second viewing, I’m less enamored with the Elliot (Michael Caine) and Lee (Barbara Hershey) storyline, but hugely charmed by the journeys of Hannah (Mia Farrow), Holly (Dianne Wiest), and Mickey (Woody Allen).

The film features some of Woody’s best work as a dramatist, with impeccable scene and sequence construction. This is exemplified by the restaurant scene with the three sisters. The construction of this scene is simply incredible, with the dialog showing both clarity and subtlety, an unfortunately rare combination. Each sister has something they want to get out of the scene, and despite all of them having the best intentions towards each other, their goals are at odds. We see this in what the sisters are saying, and in what they are obviously struggling not to say. The scene serves to propel the narrative, give insight into character, shift the character arcs, and still remains highly compelling and entertaining. And it’s just three sisters talking at a table.

Too many writers don’t understand the narrative point of a scene. Characters interact with each other to advance their personal goals, and we see a scene because the outcome of that interaction advances the narrative. If you don’t have a sense of character goals and you don’t have an interaction and you don’t have a resulting narrative drive… then it’s not a scene! Cut it from your script or figure out a way to turn it into a real scene.

It’s astonishing how many films have scenes that serve no narrative or character purpose. This can be fine if the artistic point of the scene is to undermine traditional narrative expectations, or the filmmaker is seeking an alternative impact, but the problem is that you see it all the time in films that are ostensibly traditional narratives. If you don’t have a proper scene, it just becomes “stuff happening” which is the path to audience disinterest.

What I’ll take away: Woody Allen sure knows how to write.

FilmCritHulk has published his amazing book-length Screenwriting 101 posts. For anyone interested in screenwriting or filmmaking, I highly recommend reading these essays*. Screenwriting 101 - Vol 1 Screenwriting 101 - Vol 2 These are long posts, so I suggest using a system like Instapaper to read them. It might also be a good idea to read his Preamble to Screenwriting 101. * - Yes, I know the Hulk-voice can be a little annoying, but you get used to it after a few paragraphs. The content is worth it. High-res

FilmCritHulk has published his amazing book-length Screenwriting 101 posts. For anyone interested in screenwriting or filmmaking, I highly recommend reading these essays*.

These are long posts, so I suggest using a system like Instapaper to read them.

It might also be a good idea to read his Preamble to Screenwriting 101.

* - Yes, I know the Hulk-voice can be a little annoying, but you get used to it after a few paragraphs. The content is worth it.

The Arc of Awesome

[This post originated on a message board I participate on, and I thought it was worth sharing. I made some minor edits before republishing here. The question was regarding character arcs in a film or screenplay, and whether they were necessary. Here is my reply, which goes somewhat against the traditional studio development opinion.]

There exists a different kind of arc in a film. It’s related to a character arc, except the character doesn’t change. It’s the Arc of Awesome.

The Arc of Awesome occurs when the main character is so awesome that his awesomeness causes the entire world of the movie to arc. He can’t arc because he started the movie amazingly awesome, so obviously there’s nowhere for him to go other than to continue being awesome. The best you’ll get in an Arc of Awesome is that you’ll keep peeling back layers of awesomeness to see even more awesomeness underneath.

This extends beyond action films like 300. You can see it in a movie like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. That’s a movie with an Arc of Awesome. Ferris is so awesome that he helps everyone else arc as characters. But how can Ferris arc? He’s awesome at the beginning and he’s awesome at the end.

I think the traditional James Bond film is another version of this.

I think the reason why studios love making “origin” superhero movies is that it’s a way to insert a normal character arc onto a character that really should just have an Arc of Awesome. Batman doesn’t need an arc, he’s too awesome. He makes Gotham arc. He makes the villains arc. The only real arc you can find for Batman is the arc that starts with him as rich boring Bruce Wayne and ends with him as rich awesome Batman. Maybe you can give him a subtle re-evaluation on the ethics of crime-fighting or some slight adjustment of his position on women, but really these are just ways to point out that he’s awesome.

For example, Bourne Identity is a movie about unpeeling the layers of awesome. We get to discover an awesome character as he discovers himself. Bourne’s “arc” (which isn’t really an arc) is that of self-discovery. He literally finds out over the course of the movie that he is insanely awesome. It’s a brilliant way to approach an Origin of Awesomeness story line without having to deal with that pesky “he’s not awesome yet” part of the story.

In general, you have three options when you make a movie with an awesome main character.

  1. Your arc is the path of them going from not-awesome to awesome (see origin story). 
  2. Your arc is some tiny thing, like James Bond learning how to use chopsticks, that really has no impact on the awesomeness of the character. 
  3. Your character doesn’t arc, he just continues to be awesome and your movie is a showcase for his awesomitude.

The Napoleon Complex.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Napoleon Complex. Also known as Short Man syndrome, the Napoleon Complex consists of the idea that short men are driven by their diminutive height to overcompensate in other aspects of their lives.

It’s an interesting theory, and there have been psychological studies with evidence on both sides of the issue.

However, there is a fundamental problem with the Napoleon Complex…

Napoleon wasn’t short.

For years Napoleon was thought to be 5 feet 2 inches, due to a controversy in the measurement of his remains at his autopsy. He was reported to be 5 feet 2 inches, but the problem is that there were two units of measurement for “inches”. The French system had an inch (pouce) at 2.71 cm and the English system had an inch at 2.54 cm.

Most current thinking pegs Napoleon at the 1.7 meters (5 ft 7 inches) tall. By today’s standards, that is a little below average. By the height standards of the 18th century, he was at or above average height for a French man.

So for centuries people have been attributing the colonial and aggressive activities of Napoleon Bonaparte to a questionable psychological theory based on a misunderstanding of his height.

How can Napoleon Bonaparte have a Napoleon complex if he wasn’t short? How can a Napoleon Complex be about the psychological impact of height if the person it was named after wasn’t even short?

Now you might be thinking “why is a film producer talking about the height of Napoleon on his blog?” The obvious answer is because I find it interesting. But on top of that, I actually think there is an important lesson here for filmmakers.

Stories that have underlying truths have great power, even if the surface facts are all wrong.

Napoleon might not have been a short man. But it’s a good story. Short man is driven by his diminutive stature to try to take over the world. That sounds right. It’s interesting. Even if it’s not true for Napeleon, it feels like it could be true for a Napoleon-like character.

I read so many screenplays that feel right on the surface. They’re formatted correctly. The story makes sense. The characters feel real. The dialog isn’t tone deaf. But they are hollow at their core. There is no truth to them, and they aren’t really about anything.

I’d rather read a script that is sloppy on the surface, but has real substance, truth, and insight. The surface stuff is much easier to fix and improve through the various phases of development, production, and post-production. A lack of core truth is a cancer that will destroy your film.

So fudge the details if you have to. Even though Napoleon wasn’t short, people will still view him as a tiny man driven to take over the world because of his self-named complex.

Online Resources for Screenwriters

These are some of my favorite online resources dedicated the art, craft, and business of screenwriting. It’s safe to say that most of these websites are better and more useful than this one.

MY PERSONAL FAVORITES

  • Wordplay - Terry Rossio’s fantastic website. The too-infrequently-updated columns on Wordplay are probably the single greatest resource online or offline for any aspiring screenwriter. The site also has an active and wonderful message boards community.
  • Johnaugust.com - The website of screenwriter John August. John blogs about his life, screenwriting, and filmmaking. He also answers reader-submitted questions about the craft of filmmaking.
  • The Artful Writer - Craig Mazin and Ted Elliott run this website focused on the craft and business of screenwriting. This is a great source for the nuts and bolts of being a professional screenwriter, including debates on WGA policy.
  • Jane in Progress - Jane Espenson has stopped updating her blog (as of the creation of this post), but there are some great nuggets of wisdom buried in her archives.
  • I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing - Josh Friedman’s hilarious heartbreaking and educational blog on his experiences as a screenwriter.
  • Drew’s Script-o-Rama - I suspect this isn’t the most legal of websites, but for the aspiring screenwriter it is a great opportunity to read professional screenplays to study the craft.

Other Useful Screenwriting Resources

  • WGA West - The official website of the Writers Guild of America - West.
  • BBC Writer’s Room - Great opportunity for UK based screenwriters.
  • Nicholl Fellowship - Official website for the greatest film screenplay competition in the world.
  • Disney|ABC Writing Fellowship - Official website for the greatest TV writing fellowship in the world.
  • $80 Script Notes - I am loath to link to a paid service for script notes and/or coverage, but so many people ask about this that I will provide this link to the only service that I consider to be reputable.

The following are websites that I do not frequent, but which I have been told can be helpful.

Voice-Over and Narration

A lot of people have problems with voice-over and narration in films.  Countless screenwriting teachers and gurus council their students to avoid voice-over.  That it is a crutch.  That it is lazy.  That it is bad.

I disagree.

I think voice-over is an incredibly powerful tool in the filmmaker’s toolbox. It can be used in a wide variety of ways and it can have a huge positive impact on the experience of watching a film. I’m sure some people reading this are already cringing, holding firm to their belief that voice-over is bad. Hopefully I can end that now, by listing some wonderful films that contain and rely on various voice-over techniques:

How can you look at that list and then say voice-over is inherently bad?  What are your favorite films with voice-over?

Mosaics

[This is a message board post I made in 2002. Seven years later, I still think it’s an apt analogy not only for screenwriting, but also film in general.]

In some ways a screenplay is like a mosaic. You construct a larger picture by arranging small parts: scenes, sequences, dialog, and characters. Now it’s very important to be able to work with these small parts. To be able to have them play off each other to affect the viewer. However, no one is going to give a damn unless the mosaic makes a picture they want to see.

When you want someone to pay you to make a mosaic you don’t show them how well you can form the tiles. You give them a sketch of what the mosaic will look like. The picture. That’s the high concept. It’s the picture. When you pitch a screenplay, you don’t tell people how wonderful your characters are. You don’t tell them how witty your dialog is. You give them a sketch of the picture. If they like the picture, then they pay you to make it.