- I'm not sure what you mean. I don't think I have any criteria before I come up with a character or put them in a script. I don't even have the complete cast before I start writing. but I may not understand what you are saying.
- I don't stringently outline my characters either. But the main character will have a defined dissatisfaction of some sort. Other than that, I depend on the enneagram system to help me structure qualities and faults within a character. I like the enneagram theory as a character tool. It outlines 9 basic personalities that change according to whether a person is in a state of stress or comfort. The whole system just seems to work well in terms of character and conflict.
- I have tried developing my characters indepth before hand but it always changes as I write. Not a bad thing necessarily. I have had more success in just having a fragment of a character idea in mind and then as he / she meets each conflict, ask what would my character do. Not what I would do but what would my character do. That question gets me thinking about my character. The decisions that my character makes under stress is what actually builds my character for me. But just as everything else, something may work for me but it may not work for you.
- Marty, I develop my characters, but not that much before I start writing. For the central ones, I have a general idea as to their personality and what they want, but I discover things about them as I go along. And I have to make up characters as I go along in order to fill out the plot. It's like doing an outline or treatment, etc., if I did that I would never get to writing the screenplay. For characters, if I worked too much on them before I started writing, I would never write the screenplay. I don't have a specific criteria before I put them in a script. But characters and dialog seem to be the easiest thing for me to write, it's structure I have issues with.
- Characters and dialogue come easily for me,too. Structure jyst comes naturally to me at this point. It's a coming up with a good story that's worth writing that I find the most challanging. When I do find one I beat out the whole story so I know where it's going, and having developed characters with depth helps along the way with intertwining with the plot. I think we all have our favorite parts of writing, and our less than faves. I don't particularly like all the preperation, but when I sit down to write, it's fast and I'm at my best.
- I know I'll need characters who demonstrate some sort of extremes of the same flaws the leads (protag, antag, love interest) possess, as well as attacking Theme from different angles and extremes...
I don't always have a list of those flaws or angles on theme, but, upon completing a first draft, I use those two things as markers when I go back to flesh out the conflicts that occur between my characters.
I beat the story out 'for story' first, then go back and detail thematic elements and flaws/character growth elements, and incorporate those into each interaction between all my various characters. - Once I have a good idea as to how the script is forming, which usually includes named characters, I do character biographies that will start with basics but will venture into detail to the point where they start to assume their own voice and identity based on questions that I literally ask the character. I'm amazed at some of the answers I end up getting. Probably not new to anyone here but it works for me.
About Me
- Howard Casner
- PLEASE NOTE: I have moved my blog to http://howardcasner.wordpress.com/. Please follow the link for all my updated postings. Thank you.
Showing posts with label Screenwriting Structure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Screenwriting Structure. Show all posts
Friday, March 9, 2012
CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: a discussion on facebook
GETTING THE READER'S ATTENTION: Facebook discussion
What do you think is the single most important thing to get a reader's attention in the first ten pages of a script?
- I think there's got to be some kind of strong hook to entice the reader to keep going. But that hook depends on the type of story. Tim and Wilton have defined it well. The best I can do is describe it as a 'moment' when the reader might say to himself, 'what the hell is that about?' And that moment keeps the reader interested in finding out more.
- Howard Casner Great characters. Readers will give the writer a great deal of leeway come plot and structure if the characters are so interesting or believable or realistic, that they want to find out what happens to them. People often won't believe me, but characters are far more important than structure and plot to keep a reader reading in the first ten pages. I assert that no matter how strong the hook or rapid twist of events there are in the opening, if the characters aren't there, it won't matter. But if the characters are there, the reader will go along with openings that are hookless and don't have a rapid twist of events. Sorry to disagree so strongly. That's just been my experience.
- Howard's right about engaging characters, but they need a strong plot line as well. So in the first seven to ten pages, there needs to be what I call a first scene reversal.
The script opens with the protagonist after a goal. But somewhere in those first pages there is an incident, occurance, or event that nudges or sometimes pushes the protagonist off the path of pursuing the original goal and onto a new path going after a new goal.
IE: Mrs. Mulray walks in and asks Jake to find out who the blond haired woman is that her husband has been with. Clarise Starling is given an "interesting errand" to interview Hannibal Lecture. In my favorite film for this centruy Winter's Bone, Ree learns that if she doesn't locate her father and get him to trial, she will lose her house and she and her family will have no place to live.
It doesn't have to be a Indiana Jones or James Bond opening, but it must have enough of a reversal that we as readers and audience want to stay around to find out how what will happen next and how the new goal might be achieved. - Although I agree with what most of you have been saying about strong characters, I have to say that stating a solid theme, whether it be through characters or visually, will suck in a reader.
Have a couple of cool characters chatting with some quick sharp dialogue and you'll definitely get some attention. Take the same characters, or even less interesting ones, and throw in a solid theme and I bet every time a reader will prefer the latter.
Take the opening to the movie Schindler's List for instance. - A strong, innately dramatic character demonstrating a forceful personality factor in an intense situation. That creates a character to care about and makes the audience wonder what he/she is going to do next in this time and place. I have yet to see a really good movie or read a solid script that those two factors didn't immediately bring to mind the story theme, Marty. Doesn't matter if it's comedy, drama or a juvenile cartoon. Gotta deliver the three-way punch up front.
- Sorry, I had to bail right in the middle of my last comment. My point was to raise a topic, a point, an argument- state an interesting theme that someone is dying to sink their teeth into, and you'll have a reader "interested". It's not just a character that talks cool, but what the character is saying or doing. Or what you're showing the audience.
A shark attack, and a cop responding to the call. He's not interesting yet, it's too early in the story for us to know much about Brody (Jaws).
Or a man getting dressed up and pinning a Nazi pin on his suit and going out to impress some Nazi brass, then Jews being rounded up and hearded off. We don't know that Schindler is a great character yet that is going to have an epic character curve. But the theme comes right at us and compells us to continue readin/ watching.
A hobbit, who wants nothing to do with "adventure", but is drawn into one by some dwarves and a wizard. Sure, it's interesting to hear about a hobbit, probably because we've never seen one in real life, but it's when the hobbit is drawn in to doing something that up until then would be unspeakable that it really becomes interesting (The Hobbit).
I have to say theme. It has to be there, with or without characters, to get a readers attention. Of course we all have different opinions, and that's what helps us to improve on our craft. - A combination of Tim and Howard's point... Strong opening scenes is what builds your protag and characters. Through strong visuals you draw in the reader and help them to better understand and connect with your character. I also agree with Marty, some of the best movies I've seen reveal theme from the very beginning. I especially like how the Artist portrayed strong scenes, characters and theme without any dialog. Unless the dialog is superb, too much of it in the first ten minutes and no action, risks boring the audience. That's just my opinion, we're all different.
- Howard Casner As the dialog goes: "But with a little bit of sex." "Yes, with a little bit of sex. But I don't want to overemphasize it".
Thursday, October 13, 2011
HOW TO PLEASE A SCREENPLAY READER: Proust or Hemingway--what goes into a narrative paragraph
My topic de jour is what exactly goes into a narrative paragraph. The answer actually resembles two phrases you may have encountered somewhere along the way. A story is made up of a beginning, middle and end. A person is born, lives and dies.
Both statements are deeply profound and incredibly insightful. The first one tells you everything you need to know about how to structure a story. The second tells you everything you need to know about the meaning of life.
At the same time, both statements tell you nothing at all. The first doesn’t tell you what goes into a beginning, middle or end, or how to use them to achieve your goal. The second doesn’t really tell you anything about how to live your life and falls short of explaining what the “meaning of” even means.
It’s the same for what goes into a narrative paragraph. The answer is that it is the least number of words necessary to introduce a character; establish a setting; or further a plot. Nothing more, nothing less.
I will eventually be getting into particulars of how to do all three, but right now, I want to continue in generalities.
The two main errors I see in how screenplay narrative is written (and as I said in my first column, I do believe it’s getting worse and worse) is first, overwritten narrative, especially those with a literary bent, and second, narrative that is storyboarded or written from a director’s viewpoint. I’ll deal first with overwritten narrative, saving the second for my next column.
Overwriters are those who approach their narrative like it’s a novel. They fill it with details and minutia , ideas and commentary, figures of speech and literary flourishes, all of which would be a joy to someone reading a book (it’s actually one of the joys of reading literature), but are a nightmare to someone reading a screenplay.
For example:
EXT. GARDEN DAY
Henrietta stands like a soldier in front of her easel as if ready to do battle. Then she suddenly drops her shoulders, relaxing into the excitement of what is to come.
She delicately grasps a brush and playfully twirls it in a glass of water, as if her artistic weapon were a ballerina. She thinks a moment, then carefully dips the brush in a reddish color that explodes off the palette.
She knits her brow as she deconstructs a vibrant red rose that almost seems to be blushing. Then she takes the brush and with delicate strokes, she applies color to canvass almost as if she is entering a trance.
In a way, I’m exaggerating. In a way, I’m not. I’ve actually gotten a few screenplays run riot with that much detail (the one above is a recreation of a page that actually went on for quite a few more paragraphs before the whole scene was over). Unfortunately, I had to inform the author that all she needed, believe it or not, was:
Henrietta stands in her garden painting a rose.
That’s it. End of story. That’s all she wrote, or should have.
At the same time, you’re right. I don’t get a screenplay that detailed very often (though more often than I or anyone should). However, it is not unusual to get a screenplay that reads something like:
John gets in his car like a thief in the night. He puts on his seat belt and adjusts the mirror. He starts the car. He listens attentively to a talk show on the radio for half a minute, trying to figure out if he wants to keep listening to it. He looks over his shoulder and pulls out of the driveway, calmly driving down the street.
When all that is needed:
John gets in his car and drives away.
I’m not sure why writers want to do this. For many it’s simply not knowing any better (the only acceptable excuse, though after reading this column, you can‘t use it anymore).
For many, I think they believe this is the way to create a visual image (it actually does the opposite as I‘ll go into in a future column).
For many, they think this is the way they can control what is shown on the screen and how it is shown (it won’t; first it has to get past a reader and this kind of overwriting will probably prompt a keeper of the gate to tell his boss that the screenplay is a slog to get through and moves at a snail’s pace; secondly, the director will just ignore all the details and storyboard the screenplay the way he feels he needs to in order to create his artistic vision).
One rider said he wrote in such detail in order to create a mood. I didn’t tell him, though I was tempted to, that the only mood he was creating was boredom. (Mood is not created through the literary details of narrative, but through action, character, setting and maybe, just maybe, every long once in awhile, a very carefully placed adjective or two--preferably no more than one if any at all).
I still have much to say here as I delve into such things as how to introduce a character and how to establish a setting. But first I want to deal with the idea of writers who storyboard a screenplay with their narrative.
In conclusion, I am going to make one last comment. When choosing a style for writing narrative, do not chose Proust or Faulkner as your literary model. They are two of the greatest writers that ever lived, and I relish their books. But if you write like them in a screenplay, it’s deadly.
Instead, take as your model Ernest Hemingway, especially the short story Ernest Hemingway. Simple, short, finely honed to the point declarative sentences with little to no literary flourishes.
Actually, there are times when I wish people would copy the style of their first grade reader: See Dick. See Dick run. See Jane. See Jane run. See Dick and Jane run. But Hemingway will more than suffice.
NEXT COLUMN: KNOW YOUR PLACE
Both statements are deeply profound and incredibly insightful. The first one tells you everything you need to know about how to structure a story. The second tells you everything you need to know about the meaning of life.
At the same time, both statements tell you nothing at all. The first doesn’t tell you what goes into a beginning, middle or end, or how to use them to achieve your goal. The second doesn’t really tell you anything about how to live your life and falls short of explaining what the “meaning of” even means.
It’s the same for what goes into a narrative paragraph. The answer is that it is the least number of words necessary to introduce a character; establish a setting; or further a plot. Nothing more, nothing less.
I will eventually be getting into particulars of how to do all three, but right now, I want to continue in generalities.
The two main errors I see in how screenplay narrative is written (and as I said in my first column, I do believe it’s getting worse and worse) is first, overwritten narrative, especially those with a literary bent, and second, narrative that is storyboarded or written from a director’s viewpoint. I’ll deal first with overwritten narrative, saving the second for my next column.
Overwriters are those who approach their narrative like it’s a novel. They fill it with details and minutia , ideas and commentary, figures of speech and literary flourishes, all of which would be a joy to someone reading a book (it’s actually one of the joys of reading literature), but are a nightmare to someone reading a screenplay.
For example:
EXT. GARDEN DAY
Henrietta stands like a soldier in front of her easel as if ready to do battle. Then she suddenly drops her shoulders, relaxing into the excitement of what is to come.
She delicately grasps a brush and playfully twirls it in a glass of water, as if her artistic weapon were a ballerina. She thinks a moment, then carefully dips the brush in a reddish color that explodes off the palette.
She knits her brow as she deconstructs a vibrant red rose that almost seems to be blushing. Then she takes the brush and with delicate strokes, she applies color to canvass almost as if she is entering a trance.
In a way, I’m exaggerating. In a way, I’m not. I’ve actually gotten a few screenplays run riot with that much detail (the one above is a recreation of a page that actually went on for quite a few more paragraphs before the whole scene was over). Unfortunately, I had to inform the author that all she needed, believe it or not, was:
Henrietta stands in her garden painting a rose.
That’s it. End of story. That’s all she wrote, or should have.
At the same time, you’re right. I don’t get a screenplay that detailed very often (though more often than I or anyone should). However, it is not unusual to get a screenplay that reads something like:
John gets in his car like a thief in the night. He puts on his seat belt and adjusts the mirror. He starts the car. He listens attentively to a talk show on the radio for half a minute, trying to figure out if he wants to keep listening to it. He looks over his shoulder and pulls out of the driveway, calmly driving down the street.
When all that is needed:
John gets in his car and drives away.
I’m not sure why writers want to do this. For many it’s simply not knowing any better (the only acceptable excuse, though after reading this column, you can‘t use it anymore).
For many, I think they believe this is the way to create a visual image (it actually does the opposite as I‘ll go into in a future column).
For many, they think this is the way they can control what is shown on the screen and how it is shown (it won’t; first it has to get past a reader and this kind of overwriting will probably prompt a keeper of the gate to tell his boss that the screenplay is a slog to get through and moves at a snail’s pace; secondly, the director will just ignore all the details and storyboard the screenplay the way he feels he needs to in order to create his artistic vision).
One rider said he wrote in such detail in order to create a mood. I didn’t tell him, though I was tempted to, that the only mood he was creating was boredom. (Mood is not created through the literary details of narrative, but through action, character, setting and maybe, just maybe, every long once in awhile, a very carefully placed adjective or two--preferably no more than one if any at all).
I still have much to say here as I delve into such things as how to introduce a character and how to establish a setting. But first I want to deal with the idea of writers who storyboard a screenplay with their narrative.
In conclusion, I am going to make one last comment. When choosing a style for writing narrative, do not chose Proust or Faulkner as your literary model. They are two of the greatest writers that ever lived, and I relish their books. But if you write like them in a screenplay, it’s deadly.
Instead, take as your model Ernest Hemingway, especially the short story Ernest Hemingway. Simple, short, finely honed to the point declarative sentences with little to no literary flourishes.
Actually, there are times when I wish people would copy the style of their first grade reader: See Dick. See Dick run. See Jane. See Jane run. See Dick and Jane run. But Hemingway will more than suffice.
NEXT COLUMN: KNOW YOUR PLACE
Sunday, April 19, 2009
RECOMMENDED READING: What Happens Next, Live Fast Die Young and The Red and the Blacklist
Three books that I recommend reading:
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, A History of American Screenwriting by Marc (Shakespeare in Love) Norman. Perhaps one of the most important books on screenwriting written recently. It traces how writers worked, created screenplays, how they were treated, etc. from the beginning to the present. One of the most important ideas here is that the traditional structure for screenplays (three acts with a central character undergoing a character arc journey) is not the most popular because it’s inherently the best. In the beginning the studios needed product and needed an assembly line in the same way that Ford produced cars. The structure most often used now came about because it was the easiest for the studio to use; it was the easiest to teach; it was the easiest to fix; and it was the easiest for multiple writers to come in and work on a script piecemeal.
LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG, The Wild Ride of Making Rebel Without a Cause, by Lawrence Frascella and Al Weisel, all about the making of that seminal movie. For screenwriters, it is very detailed about how the script developed (mainly by Stewart Stern) and how at one time Nicholas Ray, the director, tried to get credit for co-writing the screenplay (unwarranted) and how he claimed to come up with ideas that he didn’t. So often directors think they are the real writers of a screenplay.
THE RED AND THE BLACK LIST, The Intimate Memoir of a Hollywood Expatriate, an autobiography of Norma Barzman, wife of writer Ben (Back to Bataan, El Cid) Barzman and a writer in her own right (The Locket). It’s a fascinating look at how writers survived the blacklist (for Ben, very well) and how wives were often treated by studios and their husbands when they tried to be creative (not so very well).
WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, A History of American Screenwriting by Marc (Shakespeare in Love) Norman. Perhaps one of the most important books on screenwriting written recently. It traces how writers worked, created screenplays, how they were treated, etc. from the beginning to the present. One of the most important ideas here is that the traditional structure for screenplays (three acts with a central character undergoing a character arc journey) is not the most popular because it’s inherently the best. In the beginning the studios needed product and needed an assembly line in the same way that Ford produced cars. The structure most often used now came about because it was the easiest for the studio to use; it was the easiest to teach; it was the easiest to fix; and it was the easiest for multiple writers to come in and work on a script piecemeal.
LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG, The Wild Ride of Making Rebel Without a Cause, by Lawrence Frascella and Al Weisel, all about the making of that seminal movie. For screenwriters, it is very detailed about how the script developed (mainly by Stewart Stern) and how at one time Nicholas Ray, the director, tried to get credit for co-writing the screenplay (unwarranted) and how he claimed to come up with ideas that he didn’t. So often directors think they are the real writers of a screenplay.
THE RED AND THE BLACK LIST, The Intimate Memoir of a Hollywood Expatriate, an autobiography of Norma Barzman, wife of writer Ben (Back to Bataan, El Cid) Barzman and a writer in her own right (The Locket). It’s a fascinating look at how writers survived the blacklist (for Ben, very well) and how wives were often treated by studios and their husbands when they tried to be creative (not so very well).
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