Why This is Good

Along with clichéd, Overused Dialogue, I often see clichéd action in the scripts I read, and, sadly, in produced films.  Although I myself went to film school, and preach watching films and reading scripts, one of the problems of becoming too immersed in the film world is that it can become all you know. While an aspiring screenwriter or filmmaker should most certainly read, see, and study as much as they can, they also need to step outside of the entertainment industry, so that movies are not their only frame of reference.

There are things done on screen that are either not done in real life, or are done so much on screen that they have become hackneyed action and should not be used in your script. Try to think of a more creative, original way to describe actions, especially those that reveal emotion to the audience. When watching films, make sure you are noting what others have done so that you do not do it, rather than putting these images into your repertoire to be subconsciously accessed later. Take actions and dialogue and experiences from your real life, not from what you have seen on the big screen.

Here are some examples of clichéd action:

-A character, tormented, usually after they have done something that compromises their morals, gazes introspectively at themselves in a mirror, as if to say “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

-This is often followed by a good splashing of cold water on the face.

-A character shows their anxiety or nervousness by pacing.

-Hot women needing to take off their clothes at illogical times or in illogical ways. These same women also lounge around their homes when no one is there in sexy negligees and high heels, and frequently take steamy showers. Despite what you may have heard (or imagined), we women do not wear lacy, uncomfortable, slutty lingerie around the house when we are all alone. If you want to titillate the audience with your heroine in something sexy, figure out a logical reason for her to be wearing that lingerie.

-Sometimes, the women don’t have to take their own clothes off, because they accidentally get caught in a branch or ripped or entangled and they are forced to remove it for safety and convenience.

-One character cradling another dying or wounded character in their arms.

-This is usually followed by the clichéd dialogue/action combo of screaming “Noooooo!” towards the sky to symbolize their anger with God.

-Reunited lovers running down a beach/street/anywhere in slow motion or not, towards one another.

-Same reunited lovers, or any pair of characters, driving, flying or walking into the sunset.

-Kicking out the windshield or back window of a car to better shoot during a car chase.

-Driving through or into messy things during a car chase-trucks full of things like grain, dirt, manure, running onto the sidewalk and upsetting carts of fruit or flowers.

-Fighting on top of a moving train, bus or subway. Ducking in and out of tunnels, under bridges and overpasses, etc.

-When one character falls, the other reaching out for them. The falling character general reaches back, with agony in their eyes.

-Cars/planes/etc., exploding into a fireball just as soon as the hero gets away.

-A character starting their car and it exploding because someone had a hit out on them.

-The hero dodging multiple bullets or attacks from the bad guy’s henchmen, yet miraculously killing or incapacitating them with ease.

-The big boss mastermind criminal stroking a cat or other pet in his lap while cackling manically, or dishing out orders on the phone or in a meeting.

-Action stars not having to reload and never running out of bullets…

-…until  it reaches a critical moment, when they realize all too late that the gun has run out of bullets and instead of firing, the gun just clicks emptily.

-Taking a woman or child hostage.

-A character, being killed, dying, or already dead, with their arms outstretched as if they were being crucified. This metaphor has been done and is no longer original or creative. I have never seen a character in a film making a sacrifice comparable to the one they are making a comparison with, so it’s not only clichéd but inappropriate, and potentially offensive.

There are few things that will irk a reader more than clichéd, hackneyed dialogue. It’s important to keep your lines fresh, your similes and metaphors original, and to watch films and read scripts all the time, so that you are aware of the trends and avoid even accidentally copying others.

Here is a list of some of the most hackneyed and overused lines of dialogue. At some point, they may have been original and well-placed in a script, but they have become clichés. Avoid these!

-Looks like we’ve got company!

-I have a very bad feeling about this!

-It’s a little too quiet…

-Get your hands off me!

-You sick bastard!

-Is it really you?!

-I’m not sure who I am anymore.

-I’m too old for this!/I’m getting too old for this!

-I’m done talking!

-Just hang/hold on!

-Everything’s going to be okay./We’re going to be okay./It will be alright./We’re going to be just fine.

-Noooooooooo!

-What have I done?/What have you done?/What have we done?

-Don’t leave me!

-No, it can’t be!

If a man or a woman begins a romance or romantic comedy engaged to one person, you can bet that they most likely will not end up marrying that person by the end of the film. The same could be said of any dating relationship that starts out in the beginning of the film. As an audience can tell you, the most common storyline involves the hero realizing the person they are with is no good, and the new love interest is the one for them, even, in fact more often than not, if that person is not right for them, not their type, irritates them, annoys them, or they barely know them.

You’ll see this structure all the time, especially when a wedding is involved, as in The Wedding Planner, The Wedding Crashers, The Wedding Singer, Runaway Bride, The Philadelphia Story, While You Were Sleeping, Dan in Real Life, Sabrina, Sweet Home Alabama, etc. The one exception that proves the rule is My Best Friend’s Wedding.

The message being perpetrated is that stable, practical, pragmatic relationships are never representative of true love. Or, that the characters simply don’t know what is good for them. In real life, Juliet would have been better off with Paris, she wouldn’t have to forsake her family, lie, and end up dying. But on screen, we want and crave the passionate, impractical, fiery love-hate relationships that come out of nowhere and sweep the characters off their feet with the unexpectedness and impracticality of it all. The character the hero bickers and argues with most is surely their true love, on screen. In real life, a relationship like that would be doomed.

In the last 3 posts, I’ve discussed character archetypes and thematic elements as stereotypes. Today I wanted to look at one of the most common story stereotypes and why you should avoid falling back on using this overused plot.

The Cinderella story has been around forever. It’s been done in so many different ways and so many different times that it always leaves me groaning when I see yet another movie playing on this theme. There’s so much opportunity for failure, because if it’s just another Cinderella story (and yes a movie exists with that exact title!) then it’s going to be just another trite, clichéd movie.

We all know the Cinderella/Pygmalion structure-poor, downtrodden, diamond-in-the-rough girl gets a makeover and wins the prince. There’s the classic, and the modern versions, often involving nerdy teen girls who take off their glasses and undo the pigtails and are instantly knockouts when previously they were ugly socially inept geeks. It’s been done to death, in Pretty in Pink, A Walk to Remember, She’s All That, The Princess Diaries, Pretty Woman, My Fair Lady, Never Been Kissed, Maid in Manhattan, etc.

The dynamic of the love story-the poor, unkempt character winning the love of someone outside their class or social strata, has even been flipped to put the male lead in the traditional Cinderella role (nerdy, poor, unattractive) in movies like Titanic, She’s Out of My League , Little Shop of Horrors and Aladdin.

The point is not to say that you can’t or shouldn’t use this structure, just to be aware of how many times it has been done, all the variations, and remind you that it is not a fresh, new concept or a great idea. If you choose to fall back on this overdone theme, make sure you’re putting a new spin on it, and that there is something else enticing and exciting about your story. Since the love story part is so predictable, there needs to be something more to the story. Titanic, for example, used the Cinderella structure for its love story, but it was also about a fascinating historical event. Pretty Woman used a thoroughly modern take on the story and made it into something unexpectedly charming. In the Princess Diaries, the concept of finding out you are the heir to the throne of some obscure but amazing country was the central element of the story, not just the makeover transformation arc.

All of the successful variations on this theme were not just about the transformation from ugly duckling to princess or prom queen. They were about something more, and that was what made them work well. Story, character and thematic archetypes work because they are universal experiences that we as humans can relate to and therefore enjoy. There is a reason this story has persisted throughout generations and is still being used today. Don’t avoid it, just make sure you make it your own by making it about more than just the rags-to-riches love story. That concept speaks to audiences, but know they have seen it all and will not tolerate a poorly done interpretation of a classic.

In thinking about the Light/Dark and Young/Old stereotypes discussed in the last 2 posts, one of my favorite books and movies came to mind. It offers a great example of these stereotypes being simultaneously perpetuated and overturned.

In the novel, published in 1920, the story, set in 1870s New York, revolves around the relationship between Newland Archer, an upper-class young man betrothed to the beautiful, young, blonde May Welland, and his love affair with Ellen Olenska-the older other woman. Here we have some of the exact stereotypes I have mentioned exemplified-May is young, innocent, pure, loving, sweet and, of course, pale and blonde. She represents the good choice, what Archer should want, what his family and society wants for him. He is then introduced to, and tempted by, the opposing stereotype-Ellen Olenska, dark haired, old (at 30!). Divorced and therefore sexually experienced, she represents temptation and wisdom, all the traditionally bad traits associated with age and darkness, but, in contrast to the stereotypes, here she represents true love.

In some ways, the story is perpetuating the stereotypes-May is young and blonde, and therefore the innocent and sweet and pure one. In contrast, Ellen is older and darker and the deviant, rebellious temptress. However, in this story, the true love is between Ellen and Archer, and Ellen, despite being “bad” is what Archer truly needs, wants and desires. The author’s comment on society is clear.  Ellen is in fact the good one, as she is the one who rejects the rigid, ridiculous, stifling rules that society mercilessly imposes on its members, while May shallowly upholds them out of a sense of duty and obligation. In the author’s mind, Ellen is truly the good, honest one, as she is the character who lives for herself regardless of what others would think.

In the 1993 film, the stereotypes are further reversed by the casting of Winona Ryder as May and Michelle Pfeiffer as Ellen. In this subtle way, the casting has flipped the light/dark stereotype, with young, innocent May being dark-haired, and the older, jaded countess as the blonde. Aside from this little switch, the film follows the book fairly well, and the story is a beautiful comment on the long-perpetuated myths of what constitutes good and romantic love. It’s as if Prince Charming had decided on Cinderella’s older, more intellectual sister instead of the perfect pretty princess. Here we see that youth and innocence are not always desirable and good, and that perhaps May’s show of being so good and perfect is due to a flaw in her character, a refusal to be honest, and not due to her character or good nature.

For further reading, see:

The novel

The 1993 film

The 1934 film

The 1924 film

The Wikipedia entry

In addition to the light/dark stereotype discussed yesterday, there exists a young/old stereotype that is pervasive in film and story. This is the belief that youth is innocent and good, while old age and experience breed bitterness and callousness. This paradigm is clear in simple fairytales-Cinderella and Snow White were young, good, and pure, facing evil in the form of their old, jealous step mothers.
But the stereotype is perpetrated more subtly in other ways. More modern storylines, such as The Devil Wears Prada or The Graduate still fall into this mode, portraying the older woman as a vicious predator, while the young innocent girl is the pure one worthy of love. It tends to be a sexist stereotype, more often applied to women. Men in films can be older, their experience and wisdom a good thing, while the same experience and authority in an older woman is considered bad. The disproportionate number of older man with a younger woman couples seen in film exemplifies this thought process.
Thankfully, as with the light/dark stereotype, this one is changing, with movies such as It’s Complicated, Something’s Gotta Give, or Harold and Maude portraying older women as deserving of love and in some ways more worthy than their younger counterparts.
In addition to recognizing this stereotype in a broad sense, it is important to avoid it in dealing with and creating individual characters. While crafting characters, don’t rely on the young=good/old=bad, or young=innocent and naïve/old=jaded and bitter stereotypes. Let each character speak for themselves as an individual with unique circumstances and background. Your youngest character may be the most bitter and cynical, while the old grandfather is kind and warm, happy and optimistic. The way you envision and create your characters should be based on what you have experienced and seen in your life and feel to be true, not what you have been taught by other films and stories that perpetuate clichéd ways of looking at the world. In all your writing, be original and authentic so that no one reading your story could cite it as yet another example of an overused stereotype.

In my prior post on Avoiding Stereotypes, I discussed common character stereotypes-the flaming effeminate gay man, the bitchy black girl with an attitude-but here I want to discuss story stereotypes. By story stereotypes, I mean common, clichéd concepts and tropes that are overused to the point that they have become clichés. There are so many that I will need to devote a few blog posts to this topic.

Today, let’s start with the Light/Dark Stereotype.

The concept of light being good and dark being bad is a stereotype with racist origins dating far back into history. Light-skinned women have, for centuries, been considered more beautiful. As our culture becomes more diverse, this concept is changing. It’s encouraging to see that self-tanners and bronzers are becoming more popular than skin-bleaching agents. Hopefully one day we will all be comfortable with our skin color, no matter how light or dark it is. This belief is fading as people grow more and more aware of beauty in all shades, shapes and sizes.

Unfortunately, the concept of “the fairest one of all” still prevails, and I still see this being perpetrated by stories I read.

Classic fairytales and fables employed the concept of light is good and dark is bad constantly. The princesses were always fair, the fairest being the most beautiful and good. It’s also used in imagery, with darkness and night as ominous and scary, while light colors and bright daylight imply goodness and safety. There is nothing inherently wrong with this metaphor, except that it perpetuates stereotypes when applied to people. It’s also an old cliché, no longer poetic, original, or interesting. Think of more interesting ways to distinguish good and bad, right and wrong, than the used up concept of light and dark.

I am dismayed when, in 2010, there are characters described as pale, fair-skinned, or light-haired and considered good, whereas their darker counterparts are bad. This is, thankfully, not being perpetuated as much as it could be by casting directors. Men and women of all skin tones are still being cast in films, though the preference for at least relatively lighter skinned women is still pervasive.

Though you shouldn’t be describing skin color or specific physical characteristics in your screenplay anyway, think about the other ways in which you use the light/dark stereotype. The metaphor is hackneyed, unoriginal and tired. Freshen up your story by avoiding this, and all stereotypes.

Let’s get specific with your action description. Too often, I read vague, summaries of action that do not clearly explain what is going on in a scene. As discussed in my post on Write a Play-by-Play, action description should describe what is happening as if you were explaining it to someone who could not see what was going on. Your words should evoke an exacting, precise image in the mind of the reader, and future director and actors.

Novels can be vague. They can go from describing minute detail in one paragraph, to glossing over and summarizing in the next. Screenplays cannot. Not only must you create the visual world you’re imagining in terms that will allow a reader to picture exactly what you are, you must maintain this consistent writing style so as to keep the timing and pacing at one minute per page. Summarizing screws up timing and throws off the pace of the story.

This is particularly important for major action sequences, such as battle or fight scenes. These need to be choreographed precisely, not because it won’t change later on, but because vague description makes it impossible for the reader to follow the story.

Here is an example of how not to write action description in a screenplay:

John and Sam fight. Sam wins.

It’s brief, which is good. But I don’t know what to picture. They fight, how? With their hands? Swords? Are they jousting? I have no idea because the words don’t paint a clear picture.  How does Sam win? How do we know he has defeated John? How long does it take to play out? With only that single line, the page count hasn’t risen to even allow 30 seconds for this fight.

A better description is as follows:

John and Sam square off. John snarls and shoves Sam. Sam stumbles back a few steps but recovers.

Sam throws a hard punch into John’s ribcage. John buckles in pain, coughing. Angry, John lunges at Sam, but Sam intercedes with a hard punch in the gut that sends both men to the floor.

Sam punches John hard in the nose, John’s head lolls back, unconscious, bloody.

This is still relatively brief, but allows enough time for the action to take place. The movements are clearly described, and the reader can imagine exactly what is going on, and how Sam wins. We know what kind of fight it is, and nothing is left to the imagination.

Once you’re famous and known and writing non-spec scripts for a major studio because your first three scripts turned into major blockbusters, you can write “Car chase goes here” and get away with it. But until then, stick to the fundamentals and work hard to precisely describe what you want your reader to imagine.

Well screenwriters, it’s Monday, and that means it’s back to work. For some of you, that may mean you are going back to your day job, and giving yourself yet another (albeit legitimate) excuse to not write.

My previous post, Beating Screenwriter’s Block, was featured on Tina Haapala’s awesome website-Excuse Editor. I thought I’d follow that up with some more tips for unblocking yourself.

-Write anything. Don’t pressure yourself to finish that screenplay, novel, or short story. Don’t even open it. Just start writing. About anything. Set a timer and don’t stop writing until the timer stops. It doesn’t matter what you write about, just write. The process alone will get your brain working and thinking in a way that will lead to other inspiration.

-Don’t be afraid to start something new. I work best when I have a lot of things going. I like to start something when I’m feeling inspired, and finish it whenever I am able. I don’t limit myself to not starting a new project until I’ve finished the first one. That’s just an excuse to never get going. If you aren’t even going to consider writing that short story or poem that’s been nagging at you until you complete your screenplay or novel, the shorter work is never going to happen. Just write when inspiration strikes you, don’t limit yourself to to-do lists and timelines. If you feel it, write it, don’t tell yourself not to start what may become an amazing project just because you haven’t finished what may be a mediocre one.

-Keep a journal. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and like the first suggestion, it will keep you writing. If you make it a daily habit, you’ll not only have an amazing archive of your own personal history, which, as time passes, you’ll find more valuable, but you’ll keep yourself writing every single day. There’s no excuse for not journaling. You always have something to write about when the subject is you and what happened during the day.

-Don’t go on the internet. Or watch TV. Don’t read. Don’t do any of the passive, distracting activities that cut into your writing time. The internet is the most obvious distraction because most of us sit down to write at our computers. It is so easy to open a window and visit your favorite sites and blogs (Icanhascheezburger and Cake Wrecks steal a lot of my time!) instead of writing. You check your email, the news, the weather. You decide you need to see what your friends on Facebook and Twitter are up to. But the truth is, you don’t. You need to write. If you’re self-disciplined enough, just don’t go online. If you can’t help yourself (I’m in this latter category), you’ll need to disconnect from the internet, or learn to write by hand, or possibly with an old laptop that doesn’t have internet access. Do what you can to force yourself to write for the allotted time, not use it amusing yourself with all the delights the internet has to offer. Your friend’s status updates and tweets won’t get that screenplay finished, and checking  your email isn’t going to help a producer buy your script, but writing one will.

Neural adaptation is “a change over time in the responsiveness of the sensory system to a constant stimulus. . . For example, if one rests one’s hand on a table, one immediately feels the table’s surface on one’s skin. Within a few seconds, however, one ceases to feel the table’s surface. The sensory neurons stimulated by the table’s surface respond immediately, but then respond less and less until they may not respond at all; this is neural adaptation.”

-Wikipedia

We know from Michael Hauge that our primary goal as screenwriters is to elicit an emotional response in the reader or audience. As in the example above, a constant stimulus will eventually fail to elicit a response, because neural adaptation allows our brains to get used to whatever the stimulus might be, as long as it is constant. We’ve all heard that one can become desensitized to violence by watching too many horror films, playing video games, or actually living through warfare or great tragedy. The same thing can happen to your audience if your story lacks the highs and lows necessary to prevent neural adaptation.  After seeing the fifteenth teenager get hacked to death by the serial killer, the audience is no longer shocked, horrified, or upset by the murder. They have adapted to the constant stimulus and are no longer emotionally affected by the gore.

While maintaining tone, suspense, and a sense of urgency is important, it is also vital that you give the audience a break. If your story is non-stop violence, non-stop gushing romance, or non-stop slapstick comedy, your reader will stop cringing, crying, or laughing after they have adapted to the consistency of the stimulus. Because of the concept of neural adaptation, it is vital that your story has emotional highs and lows, periods of calm interspersed with periods of intensity. If it is all calm it is boring, if it is all intense, it is exhausting, and eventually becomes boring because there is no change. The audience can get used to whatever you choose to subject them to.

Following the traditional story structural rules, with turning points spaced out at specific intervals, will prevent you from creating a story with a straight line of constant stimulus and allow the ups and downs to flow naturally in the most effective way to properly tell a story, elicit an emotional response, and prevent the phenomenon of neural adaptation from boring your audience to sleep.