Writing and Selling Drama Screenplays

by Lucy V Hay

  • Do you have something specific you want to say? If you have a message that burns within you, chances are you will want to include a moral meaning to your story. In the case of Kidulthood’s message, as Noel says, it’s ‘Behave like this, you may die’ or, rather, ‘There are consequences for everything we do.’ Don’t forget that the inclusion of a moral message is what actively defines this subtype of drama, so don’t leave your moral message to chance; develop it from the outset. All the characters in Kidulthood do things that relate to the message and ‘get what they deserve’, especially Trife (even though Alisa does go against the expectations of the group and her baby will end up fatherless, we ‘know’ she and the child will be okay, ultimately).

  • By Noel’s own declaration, Kidulthood is not about race, though a lot of people in the audience think it is. What we must remember as writers is that people will interpret visual images in their own way and construct their own meanings; it is not our place to tell audiences how a story is meant to be deconstructed. But by the same token, audiences have no right to impose their own vision of who writers and filmmakers are, just from the stories and the storytelling choices they make. What is right for a story may not represent that writer or filmmaker’s world view and it is simplistic and foolish to decide otherwise.

  • Think about the theme of your piece – what is your story about? If you don’t know, no one else will either! Sometimes theme will reveal itself as you write; at other times it will emerge as you develop the project with others; sometimes it will change altogether. Be open to all possibilities, but at the same time keep in mind WHY you wanted to write this story in the first place. What excited you about it, or the characters? Knowing your own motivations will help you access your characters and therefore the theme in the long run.

  Selling Points:

  • In the case of Kidulthood, its craft was meticulous and unusual: multiple narrative threads all clash together in the resolution, with a tight, Hollywood-style structure that keeps moving forward, never letting up for a moment. This is in contrast to the majority of spec drama screenplays about young people set in deprived estates/places, which are often small affairs and very theatrical in tone, so it’s not difficult to see why Kidulthood sold itself ‘off the page’ to filmmakers and investors, then ultimately to an audience.

  • With morality tales come inevitable controversy. Whilst it can be unpleasant to be blamed by people for certain events that have absolutely nothing to do with one’s own storytelling, that controversy nevertheless helps the film because it builds awareness, which in turn can translate to ticket and DVD sales. The phrase ‘bums on seats’ does not stipulate a difference between fans and haters, or even people who are neutral about a work, after all!

  • Though Noel was more or less an unknown around the time Kidulthood was made, fast-forward two years and suddenly all that changed, thanks to his new role in Doctor Who. Two years after THAT, he was an Orange Rising Star Award winner! Considering he was up against the likes of Michael Fassbender at the time, this is a pretty amazing feat. Whilst a certain amount of luck was obviously involved, with all his ducks ‘lining up in a row’, people like Noel make things happen for themselves: he doesn’t just act, he writes, produces AND directs. In other words, he realised the onus was on him and he was going to do whatever possible to get where he wanted… so he did and got it. Coincidence? I think not!

  • Even though Kidulthood did really well, no one ‘green-lit’ a sequel – it was up to Noel to spec it and get it out there himself AGAIN. But this brought him even greater returns, because not only is Adulthood one of the few British drama sequels, he was able to direct it this time as well. So don’t think you can have one success and watch the next one roll in… you won’t. But if you’re willing to put that work in again, you can build on your previous project and hopefully advance each time.

  • Know that, sometimes, a great produced screenplay may not get distributed straight away: in Kidulthood’s case, it was a good two years. So keep the faith and keep going, no matter what!

  KNOW YOUR DRAMA NICHE

  TYPES OF PRODUCED DRAMAS

  If drama is about eliciting an emotional response from the audience and asking them to appreciate a character’s internal conflict, the story can basically be about anything in order to do that! Whilst we can look at stockpiles of produced content stamped ‘drama’, it soon becomes apparent that, although there are definite subtypes of genre such as ‘cancer stories’, ‘stories about race’, ‘stories about gender’, etc., this approach isn’t altogether reliable. The reason for this is because, being drama, no two produced projects are even vaguely the same! It’s important to note there are NO conventions or traditions to drama; no storytelling device marks them out as drama either. In addition, a produced drama may bring together multiple strands or threads from many different types of story to achieve a response in the viewer. There are quite literally no parameters at all, which is perhaps why spec drama screenplay writers find themselves lost at sea and clinging to clichés – like tower blocks, teen mums and drugs – as if they were some kind of (rapidly deflating) writing life raft! So, rather than group up produced dramas in ways that would depend entirely on the interpretation of the person doing it, I think it’s far more useful to think backwards and consider what kind of emotion produced content is intending to elicit in the audience overall. As you can see in the following list, this leads to a small, but effective, selection of just six ‘types’ of drama screenplay:

  • Devastation. This one is probably the most popular when writers or filmmakers think of drama screenplays, but probably not in the way we assume. Obviously the notion of ‘devastation’ is responsible for the plethora of nihilistic and miserable drama in the spec screenplay pile… but note I don’t use that other ‘D’ word, ‘depressing’! The difference between the two words, albeit subtle, is huge when your drama screenplay attempts to elicit emotion in the reader (and ultimately your audience). According to its dictionary definition, ‘to depress’ can be defined as ‘to make sad or gloomy; lower in spirits; deject; dispirit; weaken; make dull’. Compare that now to ‘devastating’ which lists just one possibility in the dictionary: ‘to lay waste’. Immediately we can see how active the latter is and how it contrasts with the weaker former word. No one may want your ‘depressing drama’, but that’s because they want devastating drama instead! Consider the Oscar-winning greats of recent years, like Brokeback Mountain or American Beauty (1999). We are devastated, NOT depressed, by the deaths of Jack and Lester in both films. Both their deaths are a waste: Jack’s because his was entirely, 100 per cent avoidable. If Ennis had just returned Jack’s love, they could have been together! Jack would never have been jumped by those homophobes as he sought refuge from his overbearing family, not to mention his loneliness at Ennis’s continual rejection. Lester’s death is a waste because he’s been such a dick for approximately 95 per cent of his life: first for letting himself ‘sleepwalk’ his way into a life he never truly wanted, only to ‘wake’ into the clichéd nightmare of a midlife crisis, the nadir of that being lusting after young girls. And then, when he realises what it is to be a man and, indeed, a human being? He dies, courtesy of his psychotic neighbour! ARGH.

  TIPS: Never think you can elicit devastation in the reader of your spec drama screenplay by simply piling on the misery. Brokeback Mountain showed us a simple world of yesteryear in Middle America, drawing us into the period through an intriguing hook of forbidden love between two men, combined in an arena we would never have considered: gay cowboys. American Beauty did something quite different, mixing humour and surreal imagery with a melancholy look at failing masculinity. Both devastating endings feel completely organic: neither could have a happy ending, because that’s not what the story is about. Instead, we are devastated because both characters’ journeys were so inevitable, yet they were unable to swerve that resolution in time.

  • Shock and awe. In produced content, a single character (w
ho may or may not have existed) might guide us through these kinds of stories, which are usually thought-provoking dramas dealing with a massive issue or backdrop, such as a historical event or occurrence, like war or oppression. These dramas are frequently the ‘largest’ in budget and arena, so are most likely to be made by networks and studios (though often the money spent will not even equal a quarter of action-adventure budgets for summer blockbuster target audiences). Two Academy Award ‘Best Pictures’, nearly 30 years apart, Platoon (1986) and 12 Years a Slave, were made on this basis. In the first movie, the audience is given a window into the Vietnam conflict via the eyes of Chris, a young and idealistic volunteer who learns the hard way about the horrors and barbarism of warfare; in the second, we are asked to imagine what the (real) life of talented musician and free man Solomon Northup was like when he was kidnapped and sold into slavery in the 1800s. In comparison to most produced drama which will seek to ‘include’ the audience on its protagonist’s journey, the audience is instead much more voyeuristic in the ‘shock and awe’ drama, which can make for excruciating viewing as we are confronted with unpalatable truths that often really happened. Our protagonists’ horror and disgust become ours as we view soldiers’ rape of young women and girls they’re supposed to be ‘protecting’; or the beating and choking of slaves for supposed insubordination. In comparison to genre movies, however, that voyeurism may suddenly cease without warning and the audience will be pulled into the protagonist’s POV suddenly and shockingly, such as when Solomon wakes, confused, in chains after dining with the two gentlemen who betray him. The message of such produced content is clear: ‘Never forget’, perhaps, so it might never happen again. Here’s hoping…

  TIPS: Shock and awe come from epic arenas and huge subject matter, not from continued mental violation. On this basis, then, whilst we may seek to corral the audience in favour of our message against injustice and tyranny, there is a very thin line between such (well-meaning) manipulation and sensationalism. Do not turn the reader off your material by being too salacious with the nastier details; often a single moment, or what we do not see, is more effective. In addition, it is important not to visually assault our intended audiences with too many locations: when considering Platoon or 12 Years a Slave, our protagonists are ‘anchored’ in the story, both in terms of location (‘the jungle’ in the former; ‘the master’s plantation’ in the latter) and time period (both are rather hazy about how much time is passing as the story goes along). It’s worth remembering that being exact on the ‘wheres’ and ‘whens’ of the larger arenas serves only to confuse, not enlighten, your target audience.

  • Wonder. These produced dramas will typically include the true story, which may be the biopic of a historical, literary or political figure, whom we may all ‘wonder’ about… but, crucially, it will place the audience ‘behind the scenes’ of that in/famous person’s public life, so we might ‘understand’ them. Consider the biopics of two powerful women who have gone down in history, for very different reasons: Elizabeth (1998), a portrayal of England’s so-called ‘Virgin Queen’; then contrast it with Monster (2003), a movie based on the life of Aileen Wuornos, an American prostitute who became a serial killer. Both portrayals meant high-profile awards for the actresses portraying these larger-than-life women (a Golden Globe for Cate Blanchett as megalomaniac monarch Elizabeth; an Oscar for Charlize Theron for her interpretation of Wuornos’s twisted world view); plus both movies did well at the box office (with the former green-lighting a 2007 sequel, Elizabeth: The Golden Age). Both critics and audiences alike hanker after these types of ‘behind closed doors’ stories, which is perhaps why ‘surprise’ British hit The King’s Speech shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise after all.

  Yet stories that are both amazing and true are not limited to the rich and (in)famous. So-called ‘ordinary people’ can find themselves in the midst of events and situations that are quite remarkable, exemplified perhaps by Erin Brockovich (2000). The story of an unemployed single mother who becomes a legal assistant, Erin almost single-handedly takes down a California power company accused of polluting a city’s water supply. Slumdog Millionaire (2008) is the story of a Mumbai teen who goes on the Indian version of the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? quiz show and, despite being accused of cheating, goes on to win the grand prize. Again, there were multiple awards nominations and prizes given to both pictures; Julia Roberts won an Oscar for her portrayal of Erin Brockovich and Slumdog Millionaire swept the board at the 81st Academy Awards in 2008, with Oscars awarded for Best Director (Danny Boyle); Best Adapted Screenplay (Simon Beaufoy); Best Picture, and a host of others. It’s important to note nearly all true stories – whether biopic or not – will compress time, merge characters and even completely make stuff up to tell their stories, sometimes with their subjects’ support, other times without. Remember, it is neither possible nor desirable to tell the absolute truth, for it is not a documentary; thus writers and filmmakers must make difficult decisions and ‘sacrifice facts for drama’.

  TIPS: When it comes to biopics of the in/famous, it’s very important to do one’s research and discover whether those ‘larger-than-life’ characters have had drama screenplays written about them and/or produced content made about them before. Whilst an existing drama about the person you want to write about does not necessarily preclude your own story, it needs to be something completely new and unheard of before if you want to elicit wonder in your potential audience. In addition, many writers believe their own lives, or those of relatives, would ‘make a good story’, but in my experience this is rarely the case. Whilst a writer or family member may indeed have had a colourful life, this does not automatically mean it is ‘enough’ to sustain a drama screenplay. Again, if we are looking to cause a stir and amaze our audiences, we need to bring something new to the table to grab them. So think very carefully not only about your concept, but about the ‘hook’ to sell that story ‘off the page’. Both Elizabeth and Monster promised audiences female protagonists we had not seen before. Though there had been many films, TV shows and documentaries about Elizabeth I, this movie offered a slightly softer, more intimate portrayal of a woman who had otherwise been portrayed as rather ‘masculine’ throughout history, as was necessary for the time: ‘I may look like a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king!’ And though audiences have been treated to many narratives involving serial killers over the years (both drama and genre, as well as true and fictional), nearly all had a male murderer at their heart. In the case of female killers, they were almost exclusively accessories, poisoners, or so-called ‘Black Widows’, marrying rich men and bumping them off to inherit their wealth. Monster, then, was immediately different from the rest by having a female serial killer who shot her victims to death, and the fact it was a true story added to its appeal. Finally, in the case of true stories about so-called ‘ordinary people’, what often makes them appealing is the ‘triumph of the underdog’: audiences want to believe that they too would stand up for themselves or do what may be deemed ‘the right thing’. Erin Brockovich fits this notion exactly; she is an unlikely heroine, but that is why we love her. In contrast, Slumdog Millionaire has more of an ‘everyman’ at its heart, so instead it’s more wish fulfilment for the audience: after all, who wouldn’t want to win such a huge prize? As a result we root for him to prove his worth, not to mention his love for Latika in the subplot.

  • Bittersweet. Frequently referred to as the ‘anti-rom com’, the bittersweet drama typically explores the notion, ‘It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.’ Bittersweet dramas will frequently place romances at their heart and detail relationship breakdowns or what their characters learn in the wake of the split, as in (500) Days of Summer or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004). This is in direct contrast to the romantic comedy genre, which demands that the narrative convention follow a rough ‘boy meets girl’ (or vice versa) scenario; they hit X obstacle/s, but live ‘happily
ever after’. In the bittersweet drama, then, anything goes; the plot is typically looser and the characters layered, with more complicated (sometimes paradoxical) motivations for their actions. This is often reflected in a non-linear structure, often to give a direct indication of the characters’ POVs as they process situations or other characters’ reactions and actions, though these stories can be traditionally structured as well. Bittersweet drama does not have to include romantic relationships, however: characters may have (different) life-changing realisations based on a single moment, as in Sliding Doors (1998); or every member of a family may bond together and experience their own moments of self-awareness within the framework of another adventure, such as in Little Miss Sunshine, where this process happens via ‘change agent’ Olive, whom the Hoover family must get to the beauty pageant. The little girl has zero chance of winning, yet free spirit Olive just wants to have fun and inspires the individuals in her dysfunctional family to resolve their many personal issues.

  TIPS: The bittersweet drama places human relationships at its heart, usually love, often utilising one character who can ‘teach’ the other something. In the case of bittersweet romances, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl most often teaches the Average Joe how to ‘embrace life (or love)’ before dumping him, as in both Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and (500) Days of Summer. When bittersweet dramas relate non-romantic scenarios, they typically revolve around the dysfunctional family instead, featuring themes like rejection, bereavement and personal ambitions. These three latter elements all feature heavily in the Oscar-winning Little Miss Sunshine. Rejected by his boyfriend, Frank attempts to take his own life, meaning his sister Sheryl must look after him. The whole family is screwed up thanks to the tough love of Grandpa Edwin, who now lives with Sheryl and her husband Richard, who is well meaning but nevertheless excruciatingly annoying in his steadfast belief in formulas and ‘get rich quick’ schemes. Their teenage son Dwayne has taken a vow of silence, ostensibly until he becomes a pilot, though in reality to ‘opt out’ of the general family insanity. Only Olive, the youngest member of the Hoover family, has a sensible head on her shoulders and she has much to teach all her relatives in the midst of their angst with her refreshingly simple outlook on life! So, consider your cast very carefully in your own bittersweet drama: who they are should inform what they do and what they can teach one another (and, by extension, your target audience). Beware – this also means your characters must have highly unusual motivations and outlooks themselves; for every ‘usual’ character trait in Little Miss Sunshine, such as Frank’s depression at his relationship ending (typical in dramas), something highly unusual counters it, such as Dwayne’s belligerent vow of silence and his resentful communication with the rest of the family via handwritten notes.