In a day and age of $50,000+ a year film schools, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better 90 minutes of screenwriting advice than Michael Arndt (Little Miss Sunshine, Toy Story 3)—talking about insanely great endings. And this is totally free. (For years this talk was only rumored to exist, now you can link to it here. All you have to do is hit “Watch on Vimeo.”)
ARNDT’S RUBRIC FOR ENDINGS:
Bad = positive & predictable Good = positive & surprising Insanely Great = positive & surprising and meaningful
*Emotion is supercharged with meaning. Meaning = emotion.
“I write for myself and that reader who will pay the dues. There’s a phrase in West Africa, in Ghana; it’s called ‘deep talk.’ For instance, there’s a saying: ‘The trouble for the thief is not how to steal the chief’s bugle but where to blow it.’ Now, on the face of it, one understands that. But when you really think about it, it takes you deeper. In West Africa they call that ‘deep talk.’ I’d like to think I write ‘deep talk.’ When you read me, you should be able to say, Gosh, that’s pretty. That’s lovely. That’s nice. Maybe there’s something else? Better read it again. Years ago I read a man named Machado de Assis who wrote a book called Dom Casmurro. Machado de Assis is a South American writer—black father, Portuguese mother—writing in 1865, say. I thought the book was very nice. Then I went back and read the book and said, Hmm. I didn’t realize all that was in that book. Then I read it again, and again, and I came to the conclusion that what Machado de Assis had done for me was almost a trick: he had beckoned me onto the beach to watch a sunset. And I had watched the sunset with pleasure. When I turned around to come back in I found that the tide had come in over my head. That’s when I decided to write. I would write so that the reader says, That’s so nice. Oh boy, that’s pretty. Let me read that again. I think that’s why Caged Bird is in its twenty-first printing in hardcover and its twenty-ninth in paper. —Maya Angelou the Paris Review interview with George Plimpton
RICHARD LAGRAVENESE: “[The Fisher King] was the first script I’d ever written by myself, so I didn’t know what I was doing in term of structure. So the first [draft] was a really dense version that was really pretentious and heavy-handed, and he was a cab driver-philosopher kind of guy. And he sees this homeless man and at some point takes him to Vegas because he realizes he can make from from him. And I saw this ad in the Times about a movie named Rain Man that was being made—and it was almost exactly the same story. So I threw it out and keep the two characters.
Then I tried like a sitcomy version of it where the Jeff Bridges character was an heir to a rubber magnate and he had to marry off this cousin of his or else he wouldn’t get the inheritance. And that was a terrible version, and I threw that out. And I kept the character of the cousin which was Lydia. So I got one thing from that.
And then the third draft of it, I was driving in the morning and listening to Howard Stern and I went “Oh!”—and that clicked in. And suddenly it started to build itself.
KOPPELMAN: And when did you come up with that idea, “A selfish person who commits a selfless act”?
LADEAVENESE: It was around that part when I was listening to Howard Stern I decided [the Jeff Bridges character] was a shock jock.
Have you had an idea, started a screenplay, or actually finished a screenplay only to learn of a similar story to yours has been made? Of course you have— join the club. My first screenplay was called Walk-On about a walk-on football player. I was told by several people in the mid-80s that they’d never heard of a walk-on football player and that it was a fresh concept, but sports stories don’t sell. Six or seven years latter Rudy got made. The story about a walk-on football player, and now considered one of the most popular sports films ever made.
The real lesson from LaGravenese is when he found out his original idea was basically Rain Man, he pivoted. He picked up the pieces (two characters) and wrote a new version. That idea failed, so he picked up the pieces and put them in his little red wagon and carried them to his third version of his script which not only got sold, produced, but brought him an Oscar-nomination.
P.S. And it was not only The Fisher King script that evolved over time, Howard Stern has evolved from his shock jock persona from the ’80s. Here’s a video where he sets up Don Henley singing a melancholy version of Boys of Summer. (You can put Henley’s albums in the bin marked Understanding Masculine Psychology.)
As I try to wrap up what I hope is the final re-write on my book on screenwriting (like the greatest hits from this blog over the past decade) there is one thought that keeps coming back to me.
“So many gurus and so few good writers. Where are all these lessons going?” —Larry Gelbart (M*A*S*H, Tootsie)
Essentially what both Sivers and Gilbert are hitting on is why is there a gap between information and quality? For that I think we can go to WME story editor Christopher Lockhart and musical Jimmy Buffett for answers.
Lockhart often repeats that you can have all the right ingredients for a meal, but cook something that still sucks. I guess the flip side of that is Babette’s Feast. There’s a great scene in that movie where the guests of a tiny village think Babette has all the wrong ingredients for a meal, yet she cooks the best meal they’ve ever had. Because what they didn’t know was that Babette was once one of the best chefs in Paris.
Part of what separates writers is talent and experience. And there’s a mystical aspect. Here’s a short segment in my book:
Over the years I’ve spent enough money on Jimmy Buffett concerts, music, and books to help him buy a small island in Margaritaville. When asked on a 60 Minutes interview about his talents Buffett said, “I’m an adequate musician. I wish I was a better guitar player, and I’m a fair singer. They’re not my strongest suits. . . . I’m a go capture the magic guy.”
And he’s captured enough magic to not only have that rare career that has sustained an audience for over five decades, but he’s built an entertainment and lifestyle empire making his personal worth over $500 million. That’s a lot of magic. How it happened is even a mystery to Buffett.
May you capture the magic in your writing today.
P.S. Tomorrow we’ll look at how Richard LaGravenese captured the magic for The Fisher King. His first solo feature effort as a screenwriter that helped his career take off.
Yesterday’s post was long, so I’ll make up for it today.
“Writing fiction or plays or poetry seems to me to be a very messy business. To be a writer requires an enormous tolerance for frustration, for anxiety, for self-doubt.”
—Writer Harry Crews (A Feast of Snakes)
”EVERY SCENE MUST BE DRAMATIC. THAT MEANS: THE MAIN CHARACTER MUST HAVE A SIMPLE, STRAIGHTFORWARD, PRESSING NEED WHICH IMPELS HIM OR HER TO SHOW UP IN THE SCENE.” —Playwright and screenwriter David Mamet (The Verdict)
“THE JOB OF THE DRAMATIST IS TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE WONDER WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. *NOT* TO EXPLAIN TO THEM WHAT JUST HAPPENED, OR TO*SUGGEST* TO THEM WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.”
—David Mamet
The question mark was there because I could not confirm any sources where Mamet acknowledged that he actually wrote the leaked memo dated October 15, 2005. I did get an email after my post from a writer from The Unit confirming that it was indeed written and sent by Mamet. (But I can’t confirm that that writer was on The Unit.)
The mystery continues. But now that the now lengendary Mamet memo is 15 years old, I realized that there are many people who’ve probably not only never read the memo—but that don’t even know it exists. But here it is in its unvarnished and unedited glory. Yes, the original one I saw was ALL IN CAPS. (There were even some letters in bold, but I no longer have that version.)
TO THE WRITERS OF THE UNIT
GREETINGS.
AS WE LEARN HOW TO WRITE THIS SHOW, A RECURRING PROBLEM BECOMES CLEAR.
THE PROBLEM IS THIS: TO DIFFERENTIATE BETWEEN *DRAMA* AND NON-DRAMA. LET ME BREAK-IT-DOWN-NOW.
EVERYONE IN CREATION IS SCREAMING AT US TO MAKE THE SHOW CLEAR. WE ARE TASKED WITH, IT SEEMS, CRAMMING A SHITLOAD OF *INFORMATION* INTO A LITTLE BIT OF TIME.
OUR FRIENDS. THE PENGUINS, THINK THAT WE, THEREFORE, ARE EMPLOYED TO COMMUNICATE *INFORMATION* — AND, SO, AT TIMES, IT SEEMS TO US.
BUT NOTE:THE AUDIENCE WILL NOT TUNE IN TO WATCH INFORMATION. YOU WOULDN’T, I WOULDN’T. NO ONE WOULD OR WILL. THE AUDIENCE WILL ONLY TUNE IN AND STAY TUNED TO WATCH DRAMA.
QUESTION:WHAT IS DRAMA? DRAMA, AGAIN, IS THE QUEST OF THE HERO TO OVERCOME THOSE THINGS WHICH PREVENT HIM FROM ACHIEVING A SPECIFIC, *ACUTE* GOAL.
SO: WE, THE WRITERS, MUST ASK OURSELVES *OF EVERY SCENE* THESE THREE QUESTIONS.
1) WHO WANTS WHAT?
2) WHAT HAPPENS IF HER DON’T GET IT?
3) WHY NOW?
THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS ARE LITMUS PAPER. APPLY THEM, AND THEIR ANSWER WILL TELL YOU IF THE SCENE IS DRAMATIC OR NOT.
IF THE SCENE IS NOT DRAMATICALLY WRITTEN, IT WILL NOT BE DRAMATICALLY ACTED.
THERE IS NO MAGIC FAIRY DUST WHICH WILL MAKE A BORING, USELESS, REDUNDANT, OR MERELY INFORMATIVE SCENE AFTER IT LEAVES YOUR TYPEWRITER. *YOU* THE WRITERS, ARE IN CHARGE OF MAKING SURE *EVERY* SCENE IS DRAMATIC.
THIS MEANS ALL THE “LITTLE” EXPOSITIONAL SCENES OF TWO PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT A THIRD. THIS BUSHWAH (AND WE ALL TEND TO WRITE IT ON THE FIRST DRAFT) IS LESS THAN USELESS, SHOULD IT FINALLY, GOD FORBID, GET FILMED.
IF THE SCENE BORES YOU WHEN YOU READ IT, REST ASSURED IT *WILL* BORE THE ACTORS, AND WILL, THEN, BORE THE AUDIENCE, AND WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE BACK IN THE BREADLINE.
SOMEONE HAS TO MAKE THE SCENE DRAMATIC. IT IS NOT THE ACTORS JOB (THE ACTORS JOB IS TO BE TRUTHFUL). IT IS NOT THE DIRECTORS JOB. HIS OR HER JOB IS TO FILM IT STRAIGHTFORWARDLY AND REMIND THE ACTORS TO TALK FAST. IT IS *YOUR* JOB.
EVERY SCENE MUST BE DRAMATIC. THAT MEANS: THE MAIN CHARACTER MUST HAVE A SIMPLE, STRAIGHTFORWARD, PRESSING NEED WHICH IMPELS HIM OR HER TO SHOW UP IN THE SCENE.
THIS NEED IS WHY THEY *CAME*. IT IS WHAT THE SCENE IS ABOUT. THEIR ATTEMPT TO GET THIS NEED MET *WILL* LEAD, AT THE END OF THE SCENE,TO *FAILURE* – THIS IS HOW THE SCENE IS *OVER*. IT, THIS FAILURE, WILL, THEN, OF NECESSITY, PROPEL US INTO THE *NEXT* SCENE.
ALL THESE ATTEMPTS, TAKEN TOGETHER, WILL, OVER THE COURSE OF THE EPISODE, CONSTITUTE THE *PLOT*.
ANY SCENE, THUS, WHICH DOES NOT BOTH ADVANCE THE PLOT, AND STANDALONE (THAT IS, DRAMATICALLY, BY ITSELF, ON ITS OWN MERITS) IS EITHER SUPERFLUOUS, OR INCORRECTLY WRITTEN.
YES BUT YES BUT YES BUT, YOU SAY: WHAT ABOUT THE NECESSITY OF WRITING IN ALL THAT “INFORMATION?”
AND I RESPOND “*FIGURE IT OUT*” ANY DICKHEAD WITH A BLUESUIT CAN BE (AND IS) TAUGHT TO SAY “MAKE IT CLEARER”, AND “I WANT TO KNOW MORE *ABOUT* HIM”.
WHEN YOU’VE MADE IT SO CLEAR THAT EVEN THIS BLUESUITED PENGUIN IS HAPPY, BOTH YOU AND HE OR SHE *WILL* BE OUT OF A JOB.
THE JOB OF THE DRAMATIST IS TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE WONDER WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. *NOT* TO EXPLAIN TO THEM WHAT JUST HAPPENED, OR TO*SUGGEST* TO THEM WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.
ANY DICKHEAD, AS ABOVE, CAN WRITE, “BUT, JIM, IF WE DON’T ASSASSINATE THE PRIME MINISTER IN THE NEXT SCENE, ALL EUROPE WILL BE ENGULFED IN FLAME”
WE ARE NOT GETTING PAID TO *REALIZE* THAT THE AUDIENCE NEEDS THIS INFORMATION TO UNDERSTAND THE NEXT SCENE, BUT TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO WRITE THE SCENE BEFORE US SUCH THAT THE AUDIENCE WILL BE INTERESTED IN WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.
YES BUT, YES BUT YES *BUT* YOU REITERATE.
AND I RESPOND *FIGURE IT OUT*.
*HOW* DOES ONE STRIKE THE BALANCE BETWEEN WITHHOLDING AND VOUCHSAFING INFORMATION? *THAT* IS THE ESSENTIAL TASK OF THE DRAMATIST. AND THE ABILITY TO *DO* THAT IS WHAT SEPARATES YOU FROM THE LESSER SPECIES IN THEIR BLUE SUITS.
FIGURE IT OUT.
START, EVERY TIME, WITH THIS INVIOLABLE RULE: THE *SCENE MUST BE DRAMATIC*. it must start because the hero HAS A PROBLEM, AND IT MUST CULMINATE WITH THE HERO FINDING HIM OR HERSELF EITHER THWARTED OR EDUCATED THAT ANOTHER WAY EXISTS.
LOOK AT YOUR LOG LINES. ANY LOGLINE READING “BOB AND SUE DISCUSS…” IS NOT DESCRIBING A DRAMATIC SCENE.
PLEASE NOTE THAT OUR OUTLINES ARE, GENERALLY, SPECTACULAR. THE DRAMA FLOWS OUT BETWEEN THE OUTLINE AND THE FIRST DRAFT.
THINK LIKE A FILMMAKER RATHER THAN A FUNCTIONARY, BECAUSE, IN TRUTH, *YOU* ARE MAKING THE FILM. WHAT YOU WRITE, THEY WILL SHOOT.
HERE ARE THE DANGER SIGNALS. ANY TIME TWO CHARACTERS ARE TALKING ABOUT A THIRD, THE SCENE IS A CROCK OF SHIT.
ANY TIME ANY CHARACTER IS SAYING TO ANOTHER “AS YOU KNOW”, THAT IS, TELLING ANOTHER CHARACTER WHAT YOU, THE WRITER, NEED THE AUDIENCE TO KNOW, THE SCENE IS A CROCK OF SHIT.
DO *NOT* WRITE A CROCK OF SHIT. WRITE A RIPPING THREE, FOUR, SEVEN MINUTE SCENE WHICH MOVES THE STORY ALONG, AND YOU CAN, VERY SOON, BUY A HOUSE IN BEL AIR *AND* HIRE SOMEONE TO LIVE THERE FOR YOU.
REMEMBER YOU ARE WRITING FOR A VISUAL MEDIUM. *MOST* TELEVISION WRITING, OURS INCLUDED, SOUNDS LIKE *RADIO*. THE *CAMERA* CAN DO THE EXPLAINING FOR YOU. *LET* IT. WHAT ARE THE CHARACTERS *DOING* -*LITERALLY*. WHAT ARE THEY HANDLING, WHAT ARE THEY READING. WHAT ARE THEY WATCHING ON TELEVISION, WHAT ARE THEY *SEEING*.
IF YOU PRETEND THE CHARACTERS CANT SPEAK, AND WRITE A SILENT MOVIE, YOU WILL BE WRITING GREAT DRAMA.
IF YOU DEPRIVE YOURSELF OF THE CRUTCH OF NARRATION, EXPOSITION,INDEED, OF *SPEECH*. YOU WILL BE FORGED TO WORK IN A NEW MEDIUM – TELLING THE STORY IN PICTURES (ALSO KNOWN AS SCREENWRITING)
THIS IS A NEW SKILL. NO ONE DOES IT NATURALLY. YOU CAN TRAIN YOURSELVES TO DO IT, BUT YOU NEED TO *START*.
I CLOSE WITH THE ONE THOUGHT: LOOK AT THE *SCENE* AND ASK YOURSELF “IS IT DRAMATIC? IS IT *ESSENTIAL*? DOES IT ADVANCE THE PLOT?
ANSWER TRUTHFULLY.
IF THE ANSWER IS “NO” WRITE IT AGAIN OR THROW IT OUT. IF YOU’VE GOT ANY QUESTIONS, CALL ME UP.
LOVE, DAVE MAMET
SANTA MONICA 19 OCTO 05
(IT IS *NOT* YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO KNOW THE ANSWERS, BUT IT IS YOUR, AND MY, RESPONSIBILITY TO KNOW AND TO *ASK THE RIGHT Questions* OVER AND OVER. UNTIL IT BECOMES SECOND NATURE. I BELIEVE THEY ARE LISTED ABOVE.)
—–
Now if Dennis Haysbert would just record that memo, it would cement Mamet’s legend for the next 100 years. Haysbert played Jonas Blane on The Unit. Some people know Haysbert as the first black president on TV from the TV series24. Others know him (and his deep voice) from All State insurance commercials.
“The best work that anybody ever writes is the work that is on the verge of embarrassing him, always.”
—Arthur Miller (Death of a Salesman)
“A screenwriter friend of mine said your number one goal is to get to the end. So write it fast; don’t look back. If you have to have characters yak about something and you don’t have a solution, do it anyway and let it suck. Then go back over it in a couple of weeks, and you’ll be much clearer on what’s strong and what’s not strong and then attack the ones that are too verbose. At least you’ll have a laundry list of things the audience needs to know—but don’t hang up on finding the visual solution and not move forward on your screenplay.”
Oscar-winning writer/director Brad Bird (The Incredibles, Ratatouille)
Interview with Peter N. Chumo II creative screenwriting magazine, November/December 2004
“My thing has always been—and I’m lucky—in that I like to write. Everyday, it’s not a problem. I do the same routine every morning—9:30 I sit down and open the laptop until 1:30 I’m going. Doesn’t matter if I think it’s sh*t. If I’m in a groove, or it’s like pushing the boulder up the hill. Even when it’s garbage, I don’t stop to re-read it. I don’t really stop to think about it. My dad always used to say, ‘Head down, ass up, and just keep moving forward’—and that was it. Then I’d discover—you do that for four hours you think it’s garbage, but I made a commitment to myself a long time ago—who cares if it’s garbage? I’m not going to share this with anyone. No one is ever going to see this if it’s garbage. . . . So then the next day I’ll go back and I’ll re-read the garbage I wrote before, and let’s say it’s four pages of what I thought was garbage—somewhere in the middle when the story took over, it’s like, I’ve got two scenes in the middle that are pretty good. I can build off of that. And that’s the process everyday. Filmmaker Edward Burns The Moment with Brian Koppelman podcast interview
Recap:
—Write it fast
—Don’t look back
—Let it suck
—Find a nugget of gold in the trash
—Move forward
“I love the idea of catching ideas. And they’re out there, millions and millions of ideas, and we don’t know them until they enter the conscious mind. And then we know them. And we see them and hear them and feel them. We know the mood of them, even if it’s just a small fragment of what could be a whole film or a painting or whatever. We fall in love with it for some reason. Something inside of us says, ‘This is a great idea for me.’ And then you write that idea down on a piece of paper in such a way that when you read what you wrote, the idea comes back in full. . . . I do equate catching ideas with the thing of fishing. You have to have patience. And I say a desire for an idea is like bait on a hook. So you are desiring or focusing. It could be daydreaming. Even when you’re walking around or moving about or talking, part of your mind is desiring ideas.”
—Filmmaker David Lynch (The Elephant Man, Twin Peaks)
MasterClass
I took this photo at 6:27 AM yesterday following a day and night of social unrest around the country. It was a nice reminder that there is still much beauty in the world.
Screenwriting from Iowa 