The Craft of Scene Writing

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The Craft of Scene Writing Page 8

by Jim Mercurio


  In True Romance, Cliff’s line “I know Blue Lou Boyle” implies that he has never heard of Vincent and fulfills the beat of “to disrespect.” How easy would it be to find a way for a character to express disrespect nonverbally, either with an action, through body language, or by interacting with a prop in the scene? He could turn his back, shush the other character, or discard a gift. Even a nonaction can speak volumes. A character could refuse to shake hands, answer a question, obey an order, or make eye contact.

  Challenge yourself to replace your dialogue with visually innovative and engaging beats that use blocking, props, and your characters’ clever interactions with their environment.

  As when learning a second language, your initial efforts will amount to a lumbering, step-by-step translation, but with practice, you will become fluent in the language of visuals and begin to think in it natively.

  Turning Dialogue into Action: Show, Don’t Tell

  During the first draft, a screenwriter hammers away at the keyboard and tries to keep the scenes moving forward. Dialogue is second nature to us, and early drafts of scripts often contain a disproportionate amount of it.

  When confronted with an annoying utterance, a character might respond, “Shut up.” As perfectly as that may capture the beat of “dismissing” or “shutting down,” is it perfect? No. The first words out of your character’s mouth are seldom going to be the apex of your craft and creativity.

  However, don’t fret over bad dialogue in early drafts. Instead, use it to identify and clarify beats. Flesh them out with either better dialogue or visual actions that express their intention. If the “shut up” moment involved teenagers at a charity car wash, how easy would it be to express the same sentiment with a character dousing the other with a water hose? It’s more interesting visually and better integrated with the location.

  In The Color of Money, the sequel to The Hustler, Carmen (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio), wearing nothing but a robe, tests Eddie (Paul Newman) when she “accidentally” loosens it to let him catch a glimpse of her naked body. She wants to assess what power she has over him. The audience, presumably having seen the prequel, expects her amateur moves to fail. Don’t try to hustle a hustler, right?

  In a bad script, Carmen and Eddie could simply state their intentions with subpar dialogue:

  Carmen: Make the call. Try me.

  Eddie: No, I will raise all in.

  Carmen: I am not folding.

  Eddie: I call your bluff.

  Instead, Eddie aggressively moves toward her, pushes her into the bathtub, and turns on the shower. “A quick one before Vincent gets back,” he says. She is cowering, now genuinely frightened. As we are waiting with bated breath to see whether Eddie proves to be a sleazy scoundrel, his demeanor quickly changes. He achieved his microgoal of calling her bluff. She “folds” and drops the act, revealing the scared, overwhelmed kid behind it. A short bit of dialogue clarifies his intention:

  EDDIE

  I’m not your daddy or your boyfriend… so don’t play games with me. I’m your partner. You don’t flirt with me.

  The beat here is “calling her bluff,” which means the worst line in the world would be “I am calling your bluff.” However, the scene doesn’t rely on dialogue. It turns the beat into an action. The dialogue merely punctuates it, and the outcome is riveting.

  We will present a systematic exploration of ways to express a beat through visuals to help you break your reliance on dialogue. Let’s consider everything in the frame, starting with the actor, and then follow a logical progression outward that includes the character’s wardrobe, props, and interaction with the setting.

  The Character:

  Facial Expression, Body Language, and Blocking

  Try watching a movie with the sound off. Watch the characters’ mouths undulate while they speak, and it eventually becomes monotonous and strange. The energy and action of physically speaking prevents the mouth and face from being used as a pure expression of body language. In fact, many critics and theoreticians decried the advent of sound in movies as a major regression for film art that destroyed decades of artistic progress in the evolution of film language.

  You can play out a moment through facial expressions, but a screenplay can suffer only so many variations of “disdainful smirk,” “constipated grimace,” and “stone-cold glare.” The body and its movement offer a more expansive breadth of expression.

  Theatrical productions of stage plays have even incorporated travelators, moving walkways like you find at airports, onstage to allow characters to walk for a nonnominal duration because the nature of their walk revealed so much about their personality. Ironically, in The Graduate, Benjamin’s (Dustin Hoffman) decision not to walk, but just to stand on a moving walkway brought great insight into his character, revealing his passivity as he allowed life to carry him forward, without any attempt to control it.

  Blocking describes the movement of actors in a scene. In addition to establishing the characters in space near the beginning of a scene, the description of the characters and their movements also serves to express beats and shed light on their inner state. Unless an action provides insight, there is no need to describe it.

  Avoid the illogical blocking found in soap operas: Two mortal enemies run into each other and their first instinct is to move closer and sit down face-to-face to discuss their mutual disdain. This contrived choice is not based on a valid psychological motivation of the character, but rather the motivation of the producers and crew who have a fifty-pages-per-day production schedule to meet.

  The movement associated with blocking will have varying levels of intrinsic relationship to the beat. If a character cocks his fist in preparation to throw a punch, the intention is immediately clear. However, a seated character may simply choose to stand up and walk out of the room as a reaction to pain, fear, or discomfort.

  In the first therapy scene between Sean (Robin Williams) and Will (Matt Damon) in Good Will Hunting, Will tries to get under Sean’s skin. There are several lines of dialogue with no lines of action description until Will succeeds. Right before Sean grabs him by the neck, the script says “moves closer,” but the actual action in the movie suggests more clearly the impending outburst: “Sean removes his glasses, folds them gently, and places them on the desk.”

  Make your characters’ movement through space reveal how they feel. In the last few minutes of the animated film How to Train Your Dragon, Hiccup’s faithful companion, Toothless, the Night Fury dragon, is excited when Hiccup finally wakes up after he defeats Red Death. Instead of just a description of Toothless’s expression, here is what the script describes.

  Toothless pauses at the foot of the bed, tongue wagging. He eyes the rafters… and LEAPS UP onto them, brimming with ‘happy dog’ energy.

  It’s clever that the writer used a dog as a reference but also made it specific to the concept—unlike a dog, a dragon’s manic scurry is not restricted by gravity to the floor.

  In animated films, blocking is preferred to a description of a reaction shot because it is taking better advantage of a medium in which any physical thing can happen, as opposed to in live-action films, which are constrained to some extent by the laws of physics. And, as everyone knows, it’s hard to get animated dragons, monsters, and anthropomorphized animals to stand still for their close-up!

  One way to track the emotional state of your characters is to describe their entrances and exits into a scene with specificity. Are they skidding to a stop, stomping off in a huff, spitting gravel as they peel out, or tiptoeing into the space? Actors are always considering their “moment before”—what just happened—so that they can come into the scene with the appropriate energy and intensity.

  Pacing back and forth is a cliched way to show a character thinking and eventually, when she stops, making a decision. But as we discussed in this chapter’s introduction, you can use the cessation of any action—playing guitar, cooking, making love, driving—to highlight a decision, a chang
ing of the mind or a shift from inattention to focus.

  Constantly look for ways to cut dialogue and translate it into visuals and actions. “I don’t want to talk to you” can be expressed by slamming doors, moving away from someone, storming out of a meeting, closing a window, hanging up, playing an instrument louder, and so on. Enjoy the great creative freedom that drama gives you, and jog your brain toward an unlimited number of creative ways to allow characters to annoy one another.

  A character’s movement and blocking eventually expands and interacts with what is in front of and around him. Before we get to the actual setting, let’s consider what is essentially an extension of character: wardrobe and props.

  Props and Wardrobe:

  An Extension of Character

  When you plant an object in a scene, you create an opportunity for a surprise. As a creative exercise, pick a prop with some intrinsic connection to your scene’s setting and give it to your character.

  For example, put a spatula in the hands of your cook and let him do the rest. See where he takes you. He will start to gesticulate while he talks. But wait, is that grease flailing off the spatula? The diner owner, who is now conveniently wearing a crisp, clean white shirt, finds himself dodging the chef’s every inadvertent gesture. Or is it inadvertent? If it is, that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. Change things up—let the chef discover the new power that he literally wields.

  If the cook wants to redefine his personal space, instead of just saying “stand back” or “get off my case,” a small shooing gesture with the spatula carries much more weight. If the scene needs an escalation, maybe our chef drags the spatula along the grill, literally loading it with more grease, and points it at the boss like a gun.

  See how the scene comes alive and becomes more entertaining just by adding that spatula?

  Here is the dialogue that introduces John (Peter Gallagher), a lawyer and philandering husband in Sex, Lies, and Videotape:

  JOHN

  As soon as you’ve got a ring on your finger, you start getting serious attention from the opposite sex…

  The scene starts with a close-up of him flicking his wedding ring and causing it to spin. This action and visual speaks volumes more about the character’s nature and attitude toward marriage than the dialogue itself.

  In Dead Poets Society, Keating (Robin Williams) not only tells the students to disregard the authoritative tone in their literature textbook, he makes them rip out the introduction. Charlie, the eventual beatnik, jumps right in, while the peer-conscious Cameron needs to look around for tacit approval before doing so. An audience begins to understand each character in the scene by their interaction with the prop.

  In Good Will Hunting, the audience can track the essence of three of Will’s most important relationships by paying attention to cigarettes. Professor Lambeau (Stellan Skarsgard) offers Will a cigarette in prison as a bribe. Sean calls Will on the health consequences: “You’d be better off shoving that thing up your ass.” Outside of Skylar’s dorm, Will takes a last puff and exhales and discards the butt before entering the dorm, a subtle reminder that Skylar’s relationship is healthy and Lambeau’s is literally toxic.

  In the opening sequence of Se7en, as Somerset gets ready for work, we see his “tools of the trade,” which include, among other things, a badge, a pen, and a switchblade. The visual juxtaposition of the pen and switchblade relates to the thematic question of whether controlled wisdom can overcome the perils of a violent and out-of-control, chaotic world. However, the manner in which he methodically lays out the items reveals his personality and how he chooses to face the world.

  The state of a character’s wardrobe can provide a clue to his inner state. If he’s been up all night, his clothes would be wrinkled, which could also become an obstacle if he doesn’t have time to change before an important business meeting.

  The Dark Knight Rises uses a wardrobe item to follow the mental state of Deputy Commissioner Foley (Matthew Modine). After Bane takes over the city, Foley feels hopeless and wants to lie low to protect his family. Here is how Commissioner Gordon challenges him:

  GORDON

  Look, I’m not asking you to walk down Grand in your dress blues. But we’ve got to do something before this maniac blows us all to hell.

  The remark gives the uniform an expressive boost and clarifies its significance. Later, Foley takes his dress blue out of its hiding place, which leads to a meaningful final payoff:

  EXT. DOWNTOWN STREETS - DAWN

  The army of Cops stands at the low end of the street. At the op is Bane’s stronghold -- City Hall. Men pour out of the building, forming up into an opposing line.

  A Cop wearing full dress blues steps forward. It is Foley. The silence is eerie…

  With or without the emphasis through this dialogue, the visuals allow you to tell your story more fluidly than with words alone.

  Look at how quickly the wardrobe (and its adornments) can set up characters. Here are the introductions to the two main characters in Dead Poets Society.

  Todd is sixteen, good looking, but he seems beaten down, lacking confidence, unhappy. He wears a name tag and no Welton blazer. When the others stand, Todd’s mother nudges him. Todd stands.

  ---

  Whereas some boys have two or three achievement pins on the lapels of their coats, Neil has a huge cluster of them on the pocket of his jacket.

  Todd’s (Ethan Hawke) blazer immediately establishes him as an outsider. Notice that the mother’s nudge is an instance of an action that could have replaced an unnecessary line of dialogue such as, “Do what everyone else is doing,” or “You’re supposed to stand up.” Neil’s (Robert Sean Leonard) role as an ambitious overachiever is established effortlessly with a visual in one sentence.

  Props can also be elevated to the level of plot, as is the case with any McGuffin or MacGuffen (an object sought after by the protagonist often without any narrative justification). The Maltese Falcon is the classic example of a McGuffin around which an entire narrative revolves. Every character in the film is trying to locate and control a ceramic falcon, including the protagonists, who don’t even know why everyone is so keenly interested in the object.

  Other examples of tangible McGuffins are Pulp Fiction’s briefcase (itself homage to the noir Kiss Me Deadly), Casablanca’s letters of transit, and Mission: Impossible’s NOC list, which contains the identity of several undercover agents. The meaning of “Rosebud” in Citizen Kane illustrates that a McGuffin is not limited to physical objects.

  As our characters engage with their surroundings, blocking incorporates props. In the same way, props organically connect to the location. If props are playfully defined as everything we see that isn’t bolted down, then we can say that everything bolted down is location. Let’s look at how using the location can add visual variety to our scenes and allow for novel expression of character.

  Setting/Location

  A scene really isn’t complete until the writer has found a way to incorporate the setting or has changed the setting so that it contributes to the scene. Just as we did with props, put yourself in the mind-set of your characters, see the world through their eyes, and explore how they would react to and interact with their immediate environment.

  If two characters are angry at each other, the actions that reveal that anger will vary depending on the location. If a character wants to make another character miserable in a car, as the driver, he might drive recklessly. As a passenger, she might put her feet up on the dash or change the radio station. Anger in an elevator may manifest as a character pressing all of the buttons, crowding the other person into the corner, or, classiest of all, passing gas.

  In Duplicity, Ray (Clive Owen) and Claire (Julia Roberts) have a clandestine meeting with the uber-wealthy Garsik (Paul Giamatti) in a bowling alley. The setting and its public nature impact the wardrobe, in this case, a disguise, as well as the dialogue. The scene starts with Garsik holding a bowling ball, ready to bowl. But he refuses to
move. His eventual line reveals why.

  INT. PORT AUTHORITY BOWLING LANES - NIGHT

  A quiet night. Garsik and Ray way down in Lane #15, lacing up their rental shoes. Garsik in “disguise” -- ripped jeans, lumberjack shirt, knit cap, etc.

  GARSIK

  Never liked this game. Any sport puts limit on your score’s a waste of time. Three hundred? That’s it? Bust your nuts just to do something nine million other jokers might do? Stupidest f*****g thing I ever heard of.

  Putting a billionaire in this environment already feels surprising, and it allows the filmmakers to deftly avoid the ever-ubiquitous cliché of opening a scene set in a bowling alley with a ball rolling down the lane.

  If you haven’t taken the old-school advice about writing a hundred-page character biography that just happens to include the character’s attitude about bowling, here is how you survive. Simply, think about the character’s reaction to the space. How would he interact with what’s right in front of him? If the character has no interest in the space, then have some fun and show his disdain for it, or choose a better location.

  Clever Kitchens

  Any location presents endless options for you to explore. Maybe because my father is a cook, I understand how a kitchen expresses personality. Let’s see how the same common location can inspire drastically different scenes.

  In The Purple Rose of Cairo, Cecilia (Mia Farrow) comes home and finds her husband, Monk (Danny Aiello), hanging out with another woman. She suspects what the audience knows, that he is cheating on her. In their fight, Celia begins to pack her bags. To win her over, Monk eventually sits down at the table, grabs silverware, and demands of Cecilia: “Make me dinner.”

  The location allows the character to express his sense of importance in forcing Cecilia back into her accustomed role of serving him. Putting aside the thematically resonating ideas about gender roles in society, let us just enjoy the unique way the setting allows him to be a jerk.

 

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