The Rough Draft

There’s nothing worse than watching a film and just not caring what happens to the main character. Or even worse, hating that character so much that you relish any ill that befalls them. When we write, it is not to create a disconnect with the audience but to reach out and pull them into the story. That usually means by creating characters they can relate too or at the very least sympathize with. Maybe that’s why I have such a problem with the bulk of David Mamet’s work. His characters talk smart and then act dumb. The greatest monologue in a Mamet film has got to be Alec Baldwin’s tirade on selling in, “Glengarry Glenross,” how ironic that it’s mostly improvised. At no time when he’s on screen does Mr. Baldwin’s character follow Mamet’s standard. He’s a thorough going bastard and everybody within a two mile radius of the guy knows it.

And there’s where I have a problem with the majority of scripts that I read. For the most part they have very poor character execution. They’re cardboard cut outs, not even deep enough to be stereotypes. Because they are shallow you feel yourself drifting away from the story. Which nine point nine times out of ten also doesn’t exist because the players can’t support the piece. So the whole structure falls apart and I the reader am asking myself that most deadly of questions, “Why should I care?” At that point it’s game over for the script and into the round file it goes. The writer then gets a nice rejection letter without notes. Bearing in mind that I’ve only read ten pages of the script. Scripts that fall apart at the midpoint, will also get a rejection letter but it will have notes. Scripts thats disintegrate in the third act get full coverage with their rejection and an offer to resubmit. Everybody else is forwarded to development and chances are they will option the script. The last thing thye’re looking for is cardboard anything.

In a nutshell (yet again) they’re looking for a good story in a believable setting with characters they care about. It sounds easy but try to write it sometime.

Now I’m not saying this is the path that leads to a selling script and the realization of all your dreams, blah, blah, blah, ad infinitum. I’m just saying, for my sake. Please start with your characters. Give them depth, give them history, give them strength and weakness. And from there spin your story. Because if you know these people, really know them, then they will act in ways that are surprising and fresh.

Of course, the structure of the plot will determine when they react. And while many will rail against and scoff at Robert McKee, Syd Field, and Chris Vogler’s views on story and structure. The bottom line is they’re just telling you what the framework, the skelton looks like where you are going to hang the points of your plot. You can ignore their take on all of this but you’re shooting yourself in the foot if you do.

Good Luck and Good Writing

Steve Abbott

Robert McKee makes an excellent point in his book, “Story,” about how characters and their traits drive the outline process. I’m paraphrasing (and not too well) but it’s very true. The outline stage is the discovery stage and the character bios are where you find those small details that will more than likely never make it to the script but you’ll know they’re there.

So for me and whomever my partner happens to be because that’s how I like to do this at least in the story stage (your way may be completely different and involve goats and peanut butter or not). We take our initial idea and start bandying about very basic character archetypes. This decides the very basic tone of the film I ultimately will write and my partner direct.

Once the basic archetypes are in place we start with Character names because that always adds a bit more flavor to the mix. From there we go on to figure out what their pecking order is and who is into whom and for what. Once we have the general take on that we start working on the story arc of the A plot. This usually takes about six to eight hours to figure out, parts of the B and C plot will also surface. Don’t throw them into the mix yet. Just write them on an index card and put them aside for now.

At this point, the two of you (or you and your goats) should go off and work on the character bios in greater detail. Give them back-story and history. Don’t be afraid to get into the intimate details of these individuals. Where they went to school, who they loved, who they hated and why. Where they are now (in context other than your story) and where they want to go (also in context). You will find that through this exercise more of the B and C plots will start to emerge. By filling in the character gaps, you’re putting the meat on the bones that is the skeleton of the story. When you again meet with your partner see how much of these outlines you both can live with. Once consensus is reached and you’ve characters you both can live with start throwing them together in different scenes. This all sounds pretty random and it is but it’s still part of the discovery process. The majority of scripts bog down in the second to third act transition because the writer can’t think of how to get from there to here. Just kicking about different scenes, even those that may not relate to the story are valuable because it can take you down some interesting paths that are well outside the box.

As writers we’re always called upon to come up with something fresh, something we haven’t seen before. This is a pretty tall order considering the number of stories published every year, film written and shot and the ever present news programs and reality TV shows that reveal every day that fact really is stranger than fiction. It is achievable, obviously because every year there are a raft of great films that show you can take the same stories and give them fresh life. Sometimes all it takes is a different point of view within the story. Other times it can be as subtle as a shift in tone and setting within genre constraints. Bottom line is, don’t throw out any of your ideas because you just don’t know how they’re going to click together in the final mix. Being open to other opinions and suggestions will only strengthen your story not weaken it, if you stay true to the initial ideas and themes you wish to express and that is where the majority of writers fall down. They lock in to one idea and one way of pursuing it and in the end they’re blocked because they have no means of escape from the narrow path they’ve chosen and you should recognize this behavior because we’ve all been down this path.

So there you both sit ideas spread out before you in a wonderful tableau of imagination. Now is the time where just like the pathologist reconstructing a face in clay on a skeleton you begin to stick these scenes onto the skeleton of the script in a meaningful fashion. Continue to keep your mind open because even if a certain scene you’d like to write doesn’t fit, there may be a way open to you within the character bio because characters react and knowing how they react is what will give your work a greater depth. Avoid clich頡nd make these people breathe. Get the story out and get it down. Read over it, feel the pacing, do the twists feel predictable or are they fresh. Are you serving the requirements of the genre? Is the story working for you?

Once it is, then and only then can you start to write the film with dialogue. If you’ve done your job right and have been thorough and diligent, it will blast from your finger tips onto the page. I find that by the time I hit this stage I can get the rough draft out in between eight and fourteen days. It takes about a month to do the touch up rewrites if you have that long but usually the standard is fourteen days for a complete rewrite unless the production is really pushing for pages and at that point you just write and hand off.

Trust your gut and trust your characters. Let them react naturally and within their own frame and you’ll never put a foot wrong. Force them into your box and you do so at your peril.

Good luck and good writing.

Steve Abbott