The late French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard, known for seminal art-house classics such as the unusual adaptation of King Lear as produced by The Cannon Group and the strangely poetic Goodbye to Language, has been quoted as saying, "There is no point in having sharp images when you have fuzzy ideas." To put it in another way, making a movie with a lousy script is like assembling a piece of furniture with a poor instruction manual: no matter how elegantly polished or prepared all of the individual pieces are, if you try to put them all together with instructions that lack proper detail and eloquence, you will end up with a piece of furniture that is wobbly, impractical, and ultimately unsatisfying.
I do not make the comparison between screenplays and instruction manuals lightly! The script is the lifeblood of any narrative, be it a stage play or a feature film. Any work of media originates from the written word on the page, and regardless of who is in charge of interpreting the words, if they are not properly thought out from the beginning, they will become the ultimate force that either delivers your art to excellence or drives it down to the dumps.
Arrogant, ignorant, and apathetic writing has taken over much of the Hollywood system and threatens to invade much of the genuinely talented independent circuits. As a self-published author and experienced screenwriter, I am at least partially a decent authority. I don't mean to imply that I am the end-all-be-all on the art of screenwriting or any writing for that matter; only arrogant asshats would proclaim such a fallacy.
*cough* TRUMP AND THE GOP *cough*
However, I have enough experience and enthusiasm for the medium of writing, both on screen and on paper, to offer some advice on what to prioritize, consider, and ignore when it comes to the craft of writing. So, in the interest of helping and encouraging my fellow artists, both aspiring and professional, please allow me to share my thoughts and advice on how to tell the best story possible. And, in doing so, point out the issues facing many of Hollywood's failed efforts as of late.
Emotional Resonance
Many of my readers may recall me mentioning this narrative element in the past. Emotional resonance is an aspect of the narrative that ultimately grabs and maintains the audience's attention and investment. This element can also be called "personal steaks" for the protagonist.
Here's a perfect example: consider the PIXAR masterpiece, WALL-E.
If you still haven't seen this film, please rectify that. But, to keep everyone on the same page, I will summarize the movie to explain my point about emotional resonance.
SPOILERS from here on out:
WALL-E is the story of a future where garbage oversaturation has rendered Earth uninhabitable for humanity. All the people have fled to an advanced space station lightyears away, leaving an army of garbage-sorting robots to try and clean up the massive mess. Fast-forward seven hundred years, and one robot remains active and functional, still performing his task while developing a personality and a sense of curiosity. His world gets turned over when he encounters an advanced scouting robot named EVE, sent to scan the planet to determine if Earth may be habitable again.
After finding each other and building an essential friendship, EVE discovers a plant and is retrieved back to the space station with WALL-E in tow. Soon, we see that humanity has become completely lazy, living on complete autopilot, utterly oblivious to their condition and surroundings. We also learn that the space station's lead robot, AUTO, has orders to maintain the status quo of doing nothing but keeping the space station and its inhabitants on autopilot. WALL-E, realizing what's happening, protects the plant by holding onto it inside himself, causing AUTO to injure him to the point of near death and toss him into their own garbage disposal to be blasted out into space, eliminating the plant in the process and maintaining the course.
EVE soon finds WALL-E almost dead and wants to save him, but the station does not have compatible parts. The only place where spare parts may be found is back at his home on Earth.
Of the many things WALL-E accomplishes, both technically and narratively, the most significant reason for the film's success is its use of emotional resonance. The entire narrative centers around the little robot WALL-E and his relationship with the more advanced robot EVE. All other aspects of the narrative (the state of the planet and the result of humanity's enforced laziness) are mere background thematic elements meant to reinforce the central conflict of WALL-E's survival and goal of winning the affection of EVE.
As the audience, we don't really care about the state of the Earth in the movie (however thematically relevant it may be); we want to know if this little robot we've come to know, care about, and hope will survive his ordeal and win over his love.
This emotional resonance doesn't have to be romantic; anything relatable and worthy of our sympathy can fit the role required for audience investment. As long as the narrative has a relatable and tangible aspect that makes the protagonist human and vulnerable, you will always have the opportunity for emotional resonance.
Tangible Goals
This is directly linked to emotional resonance, as it ultimately drives everything. Every story has one thing in common: a goal for the main character to achieve. The best stories don't give the character broad and universal goals like saving the whole world or ending pollution (noble though they are); their goals are much simpler and personal, like reconnecting with a long-lost loved one or delivering an essential item to someone in need. The more personal the goals, the more relatable the character will be.
Let's look at Die Hard, the best example of a movie with a protagonist with a tangible goal.
Once again, here is a brief summary:
John McClane is a cop from New York who is visiting his wife in Los Angeles at her office holiday party. Their marriage has been in trouble, and John wants to figure out how to save it. Things take a turn for the worst when terrorists take over the building and take the whole party hostage, including John's wife. John evades capture and tries to find a means of calling for help, being highly ill-equipped to handle the situation.
John doesn't want to take down the terrorists himself; he wants to call the authorities to let them handle it. He is the one who has the opportunity to do so. Still, ultimately, he becomes the only force that can actually deal with the unfortunate situation at hand. John becomes the story's hero out of necessity and desires to save his wife.
This is why most of the franchise's sequels get progressively worse and, dare I say, dumber. Rather than try to maintain the relatable narrative from the first movie in some creative way, perhaps with a brand new protagonist, they tried to maintain the presence of John McClane (even though it never made sense) and transform him into an invulnerable cartoon character who no longer feels human or relatable.
Many modern movies have forgotten this simple aspect of screenwriting that determines how much audiences may be expected to care about your story. Too often, I have watched a new film, either in theaters or on a streaming platform, and asked, "Why am I supposed to care?" If you cannot explain this simple thing when writing your screenplay, you need to go back and figure that out because it is not production-ready. If there is no reason to care about the characters in the story, then there is no reason for the audience to care either.
Less is More
The most basic and standard rule in screenwriting is "show; don't tell." Because film is primarily a visual medium, the bulk of the storytelling should be conveyed through the images. At the same time, the words spoken by the cast are mostly a bonus that either adds a little personality to a scene or reinforces the visuals creatively. Even so, like every rule, there are a few exceptions; you just have to take the time and effort to determine if and when your story may qualify.
Consider Jerome Bixby's The Man From Earth, one of my favorite dialogue-driven movies.
This film, written by one of the most renowned science fiction writers of the 20th century, stars a cast of all-star character actors, with a story that chronicles the life of a man who claims to be thousands of years old, takes place entirely in a single location consisting of the characters sitting around and talking to each other about history, biology, philosophy, and other such things that might otherwise come across as dull. And yet, with the thoughtful direction and performances, it all works.
Despite having a script that feels better suited to the stage (in fact, it has been adapted as a stage play), the style of the writing, along with the clever use of blocking, camera angles, and judicious editing, not to mention the variation in lighting and mood, the visuals of the film succeed in rendering the most basic set-up into an engaging and entertaining presentation. The film may be primarily driven by the dialogue, but the visuals ultimately drive the experience, and the filmmakers are aware of that.
Conclusion
These simple guidelines for screenwriting have been absent from much of Hollywood's output recently, in part or entirely. If it's not the lack of emotional resonance, it's the lack of any tangible goals; if it's not that, then it's too much unjustified clunky dialogue that adds nothing to the proceedings. The worst is when it's a combination of all three clumped together amid a smeary mess of saturated visuals that try to distract you from the lack of proper, clever, and engaging writing.
These fundamental and easy-to-implement screenwriting aspects have been tossed aside for seemingly no justifiable reason other than Hollywood's becoming too afraid or too lazy to hire competent writers or take on projects that do not require some level of brand recognition. While some genuine exceptions occasionally squeeze their way through the cracks, they have become too few and far between to make anything coming out of the Hollywood system, at least for the foreseeable future, worthy of my time or yours. We may eventually see a new renaissance of revolutionary and talented writers who will bring quality back to the Hollywood system, but I'm not holding my breath yet.
Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading.
P.S.
The sequel to my first book, Come See The Light, is now available for pre-order. Check out my website for details. Thank you all.
