On Endings

Storylines in dramatic screenplays are driven by a PROTAGONIST in pursuit of a GOAL. Every scene directly or indirectly relates to this pursuit and the CLIMAX of the storyline is where the audience learns, once and for all, the result of this pursuit. With that in mind, there are only four ways a movie can end:

1. The protagonist SUCCEEDS. (In "Erin Brockovich," Erin triumphs over PG&E.)
2. The protagonist FAILS. (In "Chinatown," Jake Gittes fails to protect Evelyn Mulwray.)
3. The protagonist FAILS or GIVES UP the goal to GAIN something better. (In "The Apartment," C.C. Baxter gives up his high-paying job, but gets his love, Ms Kubelik, in the process.)
4. The protagonist SUCCEEDS but LOSES something important. (In "Capote," Capote writes the non-fiction book of the century, but loses his humanity.)

I've found that when I'm outlining a new script I have an intuitive sense of which one of these endings I'm going to have, even when I'm not clear on the details of how and why. The first is a happy ending. The second is a downer. The third is a happy ending where a character is initially on the wrong path, but by the end, sees the light. The fourth shows the consequences if the character doesn't see the light. He gets what he was after, but loses something more important.

Knowing which one of these stories you're telling makes it easier to figure out the rest of your story structure. If you are using the Three-Act structure (with a MIDPOINT breaking up Act Two), then the end of your Act Two will be the opposite of the end of your story (CLIMAX):

So, if you have a happy ending, then the end of Act Two will be a low point, a "false defeat." If you have a sad ending, then the end of Act Two will be a high point, a "false hope." If you have an ending where your character fails or gives up his goal at the end for something better, then, at the end of Act Two, he'll be well on his way to acheiving his goal but also on his way to losing something more important. And so on.

The reason for this is because, just as a movie begins in one place and ends in another, each Act does the same (and so does each sequence and scene within each Act).

Taking this idea further, the MIDPOINT has the opposite feeling of the end of Act Two. For example, if you have a happy ending, the PROTAGONIST faces obstacles in Act Two, but he/she makes progress and by the MIDPOINT of the story things are looking good. But, then things start to turn and by the end of Act Two, he/she is at a low point, or a "false defeat."

Knowing the feeling you want to evoke at the end of your story makes it easier for you to work backwards and create the ebb and flow that's necessary for a satisfying moviegoing experience.

On Six Day Shoots

Every script I've written has been told from the point of view of one character, where the audience doesn't see or hear anything that the character doesn't see or hear. This creates a strong bond between the audience and the character but it, of course, requires that the lead actor be there for every scene.

Many independent films shoot six day weeks in order to save money by taking full advantage of weekly equipment rental rates. It's important to understand how draining this can be on your lead actor (not to mention the crew) when they are in every scene. It might be better for the movie to spend the extra money and shoot five day weeks.

On Exposition

When I'm listening to the actors play my scenes, the lines that always make me cringe are the ones that are only there to sneak in exposition. They are there to establish something I (at the time I wrote them) thought the audience needed to know. As a result, they feel forced and unnatural.

On Television Actors

Television actors are particularly suited to handling the rigors of independent filmmaking. As veteran TV actor Ron Canada once pointed out to me, you don't work long in television if you can't handle anything thrown at you and still get it in the first or second take. An actor that can do that is a godsend when you are low on film, low on sunlight, racing to finish up in a location before you're forced to leave, or simply have to get through eight pages in a day.

On Mamet's Three Questions

In his book Bambi vs. Godzilla, David Mamet claims that all one needs to know about dramatic writing is contained in three questions:

Who wants what from whom?
What happens if they don't get it?
Why now?

The first two questions point to the four basic elements of drama: PROTAGONIST, ANTAGONIST, GOAL, and STAKES. These four elements are inextricably linked:

The PROTAGONIST pursues the GOAL. The ANTAGONIST tries to prevent the GOAL from being acheived. The STAKES are the negative consequences if the PROTAGONIST fails and the ANTAGONIST succeeds.

For your story (and every act, sequence and scene within said story), you need to know these four things.

The third question points to the causal progression between scenes that predominates dramatic writing. Each scene (following the Inciting Incident that starts the story proper) has its seeds in a previous scene, most often the one that directly precedes it. Moreover, the Inciting Incident itself, often has its seeds in the backstory of the PROTAGONIST.

This cause and effect relationship provides the momentum and tension that keep an audience enthralled in a story.

Three simple questions. But, as Mamet points out, these dramatic principles are easy to understand but can take a lifetime to master.

On Directing Actors

Never ask an actor to dial it down if they are emoting too much. Instead, have them HIDE their emotions. You don't want them to feel less. Just show less.

On Imagination

People seem to think that reading exercises the imagination more than watching a film. True, with novels you are given the character's thoughts and get to come up with your own images. With film, you are given the images, but it's up to you to imagine what the character's are thinking. Films should play into this idea to make viewers more active.

On Screenwriting

Screenwriting is filmmaking on paper.