No, really. I know you come to Scriptwrangler for these brilliant observations. You were probably just wondering what action lines are for, and there: I've answered it for you. Have a great day!
It's pretty shocking how many screenwriters, especially those from a prose background, think that the action lines are where you fill in the reader on all the amazing, intense things going on inside the character's head. To wit:
Beset by sudden and unexpected longing for Jared as the door swings shut, Lucy regrets her plan to make him see the errors of his ways and apologize to her.
What happens on screen? How does the audience know this? I'll point this issue out to a client. And I'll get back something like:
Lucy's face expresses a sudden and unexpected longing that fades under a wave of regret at her plan to make him see the error of his ways. The door swings shut, empty now of Jared.
This is great, except an actor isn't a puppet, and you're not the puppetmaster. This is great except your script is probably about lust and relationships and regret and stuff like that, and you're basically punting here. You're telling the actor how to do their job rather than doing your own.
You've got directors and actors and camera people and lighting people and sound people, and they are all trained to look for the dramatic beats. You don't have to describe each one in intense detail. You need to give them a clear set of instructions that everyone can roughly agree on. Which means the action line should look something like:
Lucy looks up as the door swings shut.
Depending on the context, you may need nothing at all.
We're working on the eighth rough version of Mr. Gary right now, and I'm realizing that I've never talked about one of the biggest reasons action is important.
CUTTING ON ACTION
When you shoot a scene, you probably shoot it from four or five angles. There's a master shot. There are POV (point of view) shots -- say Lucy's and the door's here. There are reverse shots. Cutaways. All this stuff. Editors make hundreds and hundreds of choices when assembling a cut from your footage.
One of the basic rules is that it's best to cut on action. In other words, you don't end a shot just before a character gets up. Make the cut *as* he gets up. That's the most comfortable way for the audience. And it doesn't feel stagnant or choppy. There's not real action to cut on in the first two action lines. Okay, you could probably do it. But there are better ways.
When you include an action, no matter how seemingly insignificant, you're giving the editor a chance to make an aesthetic choice. When they have a clear set of actions, they know what you want. They can work creatively and proactively, rather than covering up problems. When they don't have an action, they can get stuck in a shot
that is less than optimal. Or they have to rely on cutaways, which is another whole can of worms.
And of course, if your actor sucks, you're more or less sunk. If you make a facial expression carry the whole weight of the scene, you're pretty much stuck with the actor's performance.
It would be easy enough to say that a script full of facial expressions is not going to translate as well as a script full of clear action. But realize that it's also an easier film to shoot, act, direct, and edit. It's simply a more feasible project.
Showing posts with label action lines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label action lines. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Punting, Paradox, and Action Lines
I talked earlier about the power that a writer has in using action and visuals to frame a scene for a viewer. We played with framing scenes by changing the kind of club the cops were staking out, by changing what the cops look like, etc. This is the real meat of a screenplay. Experienced screenwriters know that this stuff, when used effectively, communicates immediately to an audience on both a conscious and subconscious level. Dialogue, on the other hand, requires that they both listen carefully and remember. On top of that, they have to interpret the dialogue the way you intend. It's more difficult, more risky, and just not as entertaining.
So now let's talk a bit about how to right a good action line. There are two ideas to keep firmly in your mind: SUCCINCT and SET UP.
SUCCINCT. Trained readers typically skim and visualize a script. They have neither time or interest in reading your script like a novel. Want to know how to lose them?
Angela delicately pushes her hair into place to cover her nerves as Brandon sits down to his untouched plate of food. A wave of emotions ripples across her face in a way that reminds Brandon of his mother. He grimaces.
Yes, a viewer may read all this into a scene. Yes, an actor may well have worked out all this backstory. But it's the actor's job to ripple waves of emotion across the character's face. It's your job to build the set up that communicates the difficulty.
Does the movie viewer have access to your action lines? Nope. How are they going to figure out what you mean? With a little luck, the actor may decide to accept your puppeteering rather than engage their own craft. But basically, you're punting. Rather than work the meaning of the scene into the set up or the actions, you've pretty much just stated your goal and called it a day. Guess what. The reader is looking at the feasibility of your script. It might seem like a paradox, but by relying on your brilliant prose, you're punting on the screenwriter's #1 goal: communicating visually.
Now look at this:
Angela glances at her watch.
It's 8:16.
She glances at her watch again. Still 8:16.
Brandon re-emerges from the bathroom, slipping his CELL PHONE into his pocket as he exits.
He smiles weakly as he sits down at the table.
First thing to notice. My action lines are more or less a shot list. A script is basically a set of instructions for telling a story, right? Second thing: you can SKIM through mine without missing anything major. I communicate visually that she's anxious by having her look at her watch twice. I communicate the backstory by having him slip his cellphone in his pocket. We're done.
This brings me to the SET UP. Writers often have trouble decided what to include; either puppeteering every gesture and facial movement the poor actor has, or simply writing out dialogue, hoping that the producers share your assumptions. This uncertainty can be a symptom of a bigger issue: not knowing what a scene is for.
There should pretty much always be one simple, clear reason for a scene. If you don't have that, you probably don't need the scene, or you need two shorter ones. Once you've nailed down the goal of the scene, nailing down the action lines should be relatively easy. How much to describe about the restaurant or the food? Well, think of how your characters react to it. What's the import? Is it clear what I'm trying to do? What's the one, simple, skimmable phrase I could add that would make the set up crystal clear?
Let's take an example. Writers will often wonder how much they should include "He smiles". The rule of thumb: is it part of the set up? Is it essential that the actor smoke the cigarette, smile, nod, look wistful, etc. at that particular moment? Say a character is walking down the street with his girlfriend on a sunny day, talking about their upcoming honeymoon. We know he's smiling. So leave it out. It's already implicit in your set up.
When would you use it? How about:
EXT. CEMETERY -- DAY
Fred, dressed all in black, holds up his sobbing mother as his father's coffin is lowered into the ground.
As she buries her face in her hands,
He smiles.
So now let's talk a bit about how to right a good action line. There are two ideas to keep firmly in your mind: SUCCINCT and SET UP.
SUCCINCT. Trained readers typically skim and visualize a script. They have neither time or interest in reading your script like a novel. Want to know how to lose them?
Angela delicately pushes her hair into place to cover her nerves as Brandon sits down to his untouched plate of food. A wave of emotions ripples across her face in a way that reminds Brandon of his mother. He grimaces.
Yes, a viewer may read all this into a scene. Yes, an actor may well have worked out all this backstory. But it's the actor's job to ripple waves of emotion across the character's face. It's your job to build the set up that communicates the difficulty.
Does the movie viewer have access to your action lines? Nope. How are they going to figure out what you mean? With a little luck, the actor may decide to accept your puppeteering rather than engage their own craft. But basically, you're punting. Rather than work the meaning of the scene into the set up or the actions, you've pretty much just stated your goal and called it a day. Guess what. The reader is looking at the feasibility of your script. It might seem like a paradox, but by relying on your brilliant prose, you're punting on the screenwriter's #1 goal: communicating visually.
Now look at this:
Angela glances at her watch.
It's 8:16.
She glances at her watch again. Still 8:16.
Brandon re-emerges from the bathroom, slipping his CELL PHONE into his pocket as he exits.
He smiles weakly as he sits down at the table.
First thing to notice. My action lines are more or less a shot list. A script is basically a set of instructions for telling a story, right? Second thing: you can SKIM through mine without missing anything major. I communicate visually that she's anxious by having her look at her watch twice. I communicate the backstory by having him slip his cellphone in his pocket. We're done.
This brings me to the SET UP. Writers often have trouble decided what to include; either puppeteering every gesture and facial movement the poor actor has, or simply writing out dialogue, hoping that the producers share your assumptions. This uncertainty can be a symptom of a bigger issue: not knowing what a scene is for.
There should pretty much always be one simple, clear reason for a scene. If you don't have that, you probably don't need the scene, or you need two shorter ones. Once you've nailed down the goal of the scene, nailing down the action lines should be relatively easy. How much to describe about the restaurant or the food? Well, think of how your characters react to it. What's the import? Is it clear what I'm trying to do? What's the one, simple, skimmable phrase I could add that would make the set up crystal clear?
Let's take an example. Writers will often wonder how much they should include "He smiles". The rule of thumb: is it part of the set up? Is it essential that the actor smoke the cigarette, smile, nod, look wistful, etc. at that particular moment? Say a character is walking down the street with his girlfriend on a sunny day, talking about their upcoming honeymoon. We know he's smiling. So leave it out. It's already implicit in your set up.
When would you use it? How about:
EXT. CEMETERY -- DAY
Fred, dressed all in black, holds up his sobbing mother as his father's coffin is lowered into the ground.
As she buries her face in her hands,
He smiles.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
STICKING WITH THE CONCRETE
One thing I find repeatedly, both in my own writing and with clients, is that there's a huge tendency to explain what's going on. This is especially true when the script is emotionally intense. Bob can't just sign the divorce papers in the third beat of act II. No. Bob, driven by his irrepressible rage at his unfaithful wife while subconsciously also allowing himself to begin thinking about Maizie, the sincere but homely doughnut shop clerk, in a new way, heads to the lawyer's office, almost gets in an accident, where his rage bubbles to the surface, and then he suddenly realizes he's at peace.
It goes without saying that the first is easier to write. And easier is always better.
But there's a deeper reason for STICKING WITH THE CONCRETE. That's what's on the screen. That's what the audience sees. Not only does the human mind gauge actions and characters. It does it better than you can explain. And it does it instinctively.
When you explain the internals in the synopsis (or, horrors! in the action lines), you're working against yourself. You're actually sapping energy from the structure of your story.
GENTLE READER
It goes without saying that the first is easier to write. And easier is always better.
But there's a deeper reason for STICKING WITH THE CONCRETE. That's what's on the screen. That's what the audience sees. Not only does the human mind gauge actions and characters. It does it better than you can explain. And it does it instinctively.
When you explain the internals in the synopsis (or, horrors! in the action lines), you're working against yourself. You're actually sapping energy from the structure of your story.
GENTLE READER
But it's right there on the page!
RICH
But the movie viewer doesn't have your
script in his lap.
Take a look at Joe Buck and Ratso Rizzo. What do they do? Not a lot. Steal some food. Go to a party. Try to get paid for sex. What we all do everyday, right?
We're drawn in by what they don't say. There's a series of actions, and they're written with a strong through-line. This tells the writer how they'll react. It tells the actor how to approach the part. And it tells the viewer how to look at the movie. The single biggest reason Midnight Cowboy works is that we know what drives the characters. Once you get that nailed down, step back, and just let the characters steal fruit, or sign the divorce papers, or flirt with the doughnut girl. It's a whole lot easier.
It's hard to let go of that level of control, of course. That's why I'm going to talk about the actor's job in the next post.
script in his lap.
Take a look at Joe Buck and Ratso Rizzo. What do they do? Not a lot. Steal some food. Go to a party. Try to get paid for sex. What we all do everyday, right?
We're drawn in by what they don't say. There's a series of actions, and they're written with a strong through-line. This tells the writer how they'll react. It tells the actor how to approach the part. And it tells the viewer how to look at the movie. The single biggest reason Midnight Cowboy works is that we know what drives the characters. Once you get that nailed down, step back, and just let the characters steal fruit, or sign the divorce papers, or flirt with the doughnut girl. It's a whole lot easier.
It's hard to let go of that level of control, of course. That's why I'm going to talk about the actor's job in the next post.
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