The 2012 Oscar nominations have been announced. Many are unhappy, some are thrilled, and a lot of us don’t care. However, some of us dream of being on that stage someday. We dream of gripping that golden statue man, earning the praises of colleagues and fans alike. Are you one of them? Would you like to know the tips and tricks to writing an Oscar winning screenplay? Look no further!
It doesn’t take much to get a screenplay made these days. Take a trip to the cinema, rent a movie from Redbox, or take a glance at all those shiny new releases at Netflix. What can we gather? Any idiot can write a screenplay! Can’t sell a screenplay? No problem. Write a book about writing a screenplay. Nevermind the naysayers who tell you that you’ve never written a screenplay that sold, because that’s irrelevant. Why would you need such experience? Do you think people have to actually win a world series of poker bracelet to release a book about how to win the world series of poker?
Repeat after me: subversion, subversion, subversion. To start writing a great screenplay you need to think inside the box. The basic idea here is to subvert all the advice you’ve been given, pair that with obvious advice (if you want a great story, you need great characters!), and mash that up into a concotion you can call your own. This blog post will guarantee that your next big screenplay you write in the middle of your local coffee shop will be optioned and on the production line in no time.
Start with an idea. No, hold on: twenty ideas.
People in the business will tell you that it’s all about the “pitch.” You need to be able to pitch to producers in a few sentences or less the reasons they should fund your screenplay. A few examples: “Boy meets girl, loses girl, regains girl, boy and girl live happily ever after.” “Guy commits a crime, guy goes to jail, guy finds redemption, guy is happy.” To hell with that! How many times has someone sold a script using that logic? Your pitch needs to be exhausting, confusing, and completely irresistible. Try to include every idea you’ve ever had and mash them up. Producers love genre mashups. How do you think Rob Zombie got money for Halloween? You think he pitched that in one line? I bet it went something like this.
“Well, see, Michael Myers grew up in a bad home and does a bunch of messed up cliche things like killing animals, then he has to deal with his rude stepdad on top of it! He would be a nice dude but no one took him trick or treating and this pissed him off. So he beats this kid up and gets arrested and cries. His mom is a stripper and he wants to kill his sister like 20 years later. Anyway he makes these cool masks in jail and is kinda a misunderstood artist type. Then he finds this mask buried under his porch and goes nuts and chases his sister and stuff. His family sucks though. Also I’ll use that black guy from Dawn of the Dead for credibility.”
I bet that producer slammed down his coffee cup and exclaimed “BOY THAT’S FANTASTIC!”
Write simple stuff.
Jean-Luc Godard once said that all you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun. It’s true. You just need a few things and off you go. Try this one of for size.
Jonny is a robber. He robs a bank. His motivation is that he wants money, which he gets by robbing the bank. He loves Cindy, who is a female. Her motivation is that she wants to have some money too. She gets some of Jonny’s.
Forget the roller-coaster. Think a train ride.
The idea of a rising climax building to a crescendo of suspense and “edge of your seat” type of stuff is overrated. Your goal here is to make the story as linear as possible. Who cares about tension and pay off? Stick with straight line stuff and you’re golden.
Jim is a hunter who likes to hunt. He spends his time hunting things. He’s happy about this decision.
Forget lengthy descriptions.
Look, this is a script, not a book. Sure, it’ll be translated to the screen, but should you care about viewer immersion? Of course not. You’re trying to tell a story and don’t have time for that. If a viewer doesn’t like it, he can go immerse his head in a bathtub full of water.
Sally wakes up. She walks over to her fridge. She opens it. She grabs a bottle of water. She takes off the cap. She takes a sip. She puts the cap back on. She looks outside. It’s day time.
Use the most descriptive language possible.
I know, I’m contradicting myself, right? Wrong. See, if you’re a talented writer, why shouldn’t you use the extent of your vocabulary? That’s what a thesauraus is for right? Screw ‘em if they don’t understand!
Rick gets into his old, rusty, beat up, used, smelly, ugly, and not new car. He puts his right foot in first, then his left. His pants are brown, jean, boot cut, and the seams are a bit off. Rick puts his key in the ignition and turns it 84 degrees to the right. The car starts loudly, with a crackle, and is generally noisy. He puts the car in drive. It’s an automatic, so he doesn’t need to worry about the clutch. The dashboard is mint, but has a chip on the right side. It’s not very noticable, but would detract from the resale value. It’s snowing outside. Generally this occurs in the winter months, which is why it’s snow and not rain. It’s precipitation coming down from the sky either way though. It’s made primarily of water, but some co2 is there as well. A basic snow shower, really.
Forget conflict, we need to get this thing to the end.
If you accidentally start to build toward something, stop immediately. This isn’t a television show, and we don’t have time to tie up all those loose ends. What you do is throw in a bunch of sub-plots that lead to nowhere. The viewer loves this.
Jack goes on a bike ride. He gets lost. Some guy in all black is following him. He finds a coffee shop. He parks his bike outside. He runs in for a corned beef sandwich. He rides home after. He gets to bed a bit earlier than usual. He never sees the man again. He calls his girlfriend the next day.
Remember to use cliches.
What’s the problem with cliches? If it weren’t for cliches, nothing would get made. Twist and turn the plot using familiar devices from other movies and you’re guaranteed success.
Ricky talked to Sam. No one else could see Sam. Rick never noticed this. He just realized this and mulled over the recent events. Now a flashback of the movie. He snaps back to reality. He realizes that it wasn’t the other guy doing anything. It turns out they’re the same person!
Obstacles? Steamroller!
Who needs a character that they can identify with? Not the viewer. Trust me, this isn’t why they go to the movies. You don’t want your character to encounter multiple stumbling blocks on the way to his goal. The key is to make him nearly invulernable to defeat. Why watch a movie if the outcome is uncertain?
Max’s wife is kidnapped by gangsters. Max goes to the gangster’s hideout. He walks in the front door. He shoots a few gangsters. He goes upstairs and shoots a few more. He walks into the room where his wife is being held and shoots the leader’s right hand man. Then he points the gun at the leader. The leader surrenders. Max uses his phone to call the cops. He saves his wife and the leader goes to jail.
End it.
Seems logical that a story has to end right? Remember, your ending isn’t the image the viewer leaves with, so there is no need to leave a lasting impression of your movie. End it, move on, and get to your next script. Leave the audience with a flat generic finale and your paycheck is completely assured.
Sam runs a marathon. He takes about 2 hours to do this. He eventually finishes. He’s a bit winded at the end. He walks over to the refreshments table and gets a cup of water. He takes a sip and stretches out. Fade to black.
So there you have it. I’ve given you everything you need to write a great script. Many great screenwriters of today have followed this exact formula. A good script is nice, but remember that every great script is going to contain all of these elements. You’ll be hard pressed to find a good one today that doesn’t have at least three of these things. Now, dear reader, the work is up to you.
Do you have what it takes to write the next great script?
I THINK I DO TBH!