Wednesday, September 26th, 20072007-09-26T19:47:00Zl, F jS, Y
I have read horror scripts that were executed so well that the world disappeared around me and I was so engrossed and scared that when an unexpected sound like the doorbell interrupted me I jumped out of my SKIN. I love that experience. I’m actually kind of a baby; I don’t really enjoy scary movies. I don’t like the feeling of a racing pulse, and hairs on the back of my neck sticking up. I don’t like sweaty palms and the feeling of dread waiting for the bad guy/monster/ghost to leap out and do something horrible. I am such a baby that to me, WHAT LIES BENEATH was like the scariest movie ever. Go ahead, Wavers – laugh. I can take it.
But I love reading scary scripts. Because I enjoy all those feelings knowing that it’s on the page not in Dolby Surround Sound and in the dark. I can get as scared as all get out but then look up from the page for a minute if I need to and exit the experience. I need that out.
But it doesn’t happen very often that I read a horror script that really scares the heck out of me. Not very often at all. I see a lot of writers who write horror scripts that are gross-out or predictable and my pulse goes nowhere. My theory is that writers think that the fx and/or execution of the moment when it’s on film – the creepy music, the dry ice stage fog – all of that will make it nice and scary so it doesn’t have to be scary on the page. While it may be true that the execution is going to really nail the scary moment – it should be scary on the page too.
One of the scariest things about THE RING was the jerky, stop frame way the little girl moved. That scared me to death. The original GRUDGE – entitled JUON – scared me so thoroughly that for weeks on end I couldn’t go upstairs in my house because the unnatural way that creature moved down the stairs lodged in my unconcious. But if on the page, it simply says:
The CREATURE moves down the stairs jerkily, like a crab.
Do you get a visual? Sure. Kind of. Does that scare you? Not really. Recently I read a script in which this horrendous creature shreds people to pieces. But that’s all it said in the action line:
LOUISA reaches her long arms and shreds him to pieces.
Uh – okay. So. I guess that would hurt. But can you really picture that? Did that raise your pulse one iota?
If you are writing a horror script, which has so many conventions and abberations that you could write a master’s thesis on the topic – make sure to have fun with it, get gross, get scary, really deliver the horror of the experience with your words. Don’t rely on special fx, soundtracks or other post-production devices. Those will absolutely enhance the moment but use the words at your disposal to really write something frightening and disgusting.
Have your monster/ghost/killer look up with blood dripping from their chin. Let mucus ooze from their skin. Give them bad breath and weird eyes and crackly movements. Remember when you were little and you used to put the flashlight under your chin and tell scary stories on sleep-overs? Bloody Mary. Bloooooody Mary. Blooooooody MARY!! That stuff was scary and theatrical. And your script should be too.
Instead of “shredding” someone, how about we hear bones crunch, tendons snap and blood gurgle? Really make it a visceral experience for the reader. But be careful – too much gross-out description and the reader becomes numb. Save it up. Build up the tension in the narrative. Make us wait for it. And then surprise us. Remember to exploit primal fears.
In WHAT LIES BENEATH, the scene that probably scared me the most was the scene in which Michelle Pfieffer is blow drying her hair and in the mirror, behind her, the bluish-green, decayed face of the drowned girl appears. Something behind you in the mirror – that’s primal, guys. Something outside the darkened window. Something outside the car. The crunch of bones, the splash of blood – that taps into some pretty intense fears. You can’t rely on fx for that fear factor in your horror script. Get it on the page.
The market for unproven writers and their spec scripts is dismal right now. But it’s always dismal. There is a brick wall we have to get over. So make your script the absolute best it can humanly be. If you’re writing horror – go big and write it so that the reader will be so engrossed and so jumpy that you give them nightmares. Go for it.
Wednesday, January 17th, 20072007-01-18T06:09:00Zl, F jS, Y
Drum roll, please…This is the moment you’ve been waiting for…the number one thing that annoys this reader:
A writer who has no idea what he or she is doing. By that I mean, a writer who thinks they understand a genre (or even the craft in general) but is woefully, horribly mistaken. I worked with a writer recently who had written a “comedy”. That actually translated to over one hundred pages of what I can only assume were highlights of a drunken evening back in college. From what I read, I can only thank the Goddess I was not there. I asked the writer – what are you satirizing, exactly? And she said: What do you mean? What bothered me about that is the cavalier attitude that writing comedy is easy. As if Judd Apatow just sits down and writes this stuff and therefore so can you. As if that were true of Larry Gelbart, Nora Ephron, Woody Allen, Mel Brooks and too many others to name. It is a lack of respect for the craft that I must admit gets me very, very cranky.
Each genre has a history with high and low points, with expectations, transmutations and sub-genres. But let’s back up. Each genre has expectations. The thing is, you already know this. Because when we see movies, a primal part of us takes over. We await the romance to come to fruition just as much as we pleasantly dread the dissembling of the same romance – because it must be. We expect it. When we sit in the dark with our malted milk balls watching a horror movie, we cringe pleasurably as we wait for the…..JUMP OUT. But it can’t just be a jump out. It has to happen like this: Huh, what was that sound in the basement? Should I go look in the basement? I go down the stairs. I WHIRL AROUND. It’s just the cat. Phew, now I’m safe. I head back up the stairs. A HAND GRABS MY LEG.
In comedy, we expect to see set pieces highlighting the kind of comedy we’re watching. I could write a whole column about the kinds of comedy: satire, farce, slapstick, romantic verbal, black, political, parody and gross-out to name only a few. When you are writing a comedy, firstly it is critical that you know what kind of comedy and then from that decision, do your homework both in watching other movies in the genre and also studying up a little on comedy. Mel Brooks once said: Tragedy is when I get a hangnail. Comedy is when you fall down the staircase. Understand what “the topper” is in comedy. Understand the number of comic beats necessary to deliver the comedy most hilariously. Understand comedy from different eras. Watch the greats. And just as importantly – what makes you laugh? If you aren’t laughing when you write comedy, something is wrong.
Something newer writers don’t understand is that funny isn’t funny without the quiet moments in-between. And scary isn’t scary without the quiet bits either. A constant stream of action, horror or comedy disallows us from relating to the character these things are happening to.
In thriller the expectations will be centered around building dread, suspense, scares, thrills, chills and a helluva mind-bending, exciting showdown in the end. Here again, it depends on what kind of thriller you are writing: action-thriller, political-thriller, supernatural-thriller, horror-thriller and so forth.
Drama naturally has a million subsets because the word “drama’ in and of itself isn’t all that descriptive from the point of view of an executive. To name only a few subsets we might have sports-drama, historical-drama, political-drama or coming-of-age drama. If I’m going to the movies to see WE ARE MARSHALL, a sports-drama (and true story) you better believe I will expect to see moments of triumph, heartbreak, setbacks and victories. If I see a historical epic, I know I am going to see some really huge battle sequences. And in those sequences I will probably see that soldier who has a pregnant wife back home get killed. But he’ll die a martyr, he won’t be forgotten!
In each genre, set pieces highlighting and embodying the expectations of that genre should be plentiful and satisfying.
The first thing you need to do after you’ve come up with an idea is to ask yourself which genre you are in. It shouldn’t be difficult to figure it out. Once you’ve done that, go rent several movies in that genre and particularly movies that bear any resemblance to your idea whatsoever. Go see a movie in current release that is in your genre as well. Take notes and pay special attention. What beats are present, regardless of differences in story, in each movie? And very importantly, what pattern are the beats in?
I am not suggesting that writers attempt to cookie-cutter their writing to be completely derivative of pre-existing movies. Why was JUON so much better than THE GRUDGE? Because THE GRUDGE got put through the cookie-cutter and wound up limp and average. Derivative or imitative is not what I am suggesting here but rather an awareness of what makes certain genres work on that ancient, universal level. Lajos Egri’s book The Art of Dramatic Writing is a great resource for getting down to the fundamentals of drama. Harold Bloom’s Shakespeare: the Invention of the Human is not only a great reference book for the work of Shakespeare but a tremendous lesson for any and all writers who wish to understand what moves audiences. Donald Spoto’s book The Art of Alfred Hitchcock is a fascinating read. I’m sure others can name many more great references.
Whether you read scripts professionally, or for a friend you will notice the genre expectations – or lack of them – in your bones. You will find yourself losing interest because you haven’t had a nice, scary set piece in a few pages. Or because the romantic relationship has hit a plateau with no misunderstandings or fights. Or because no bad guy has entered, stage left, to challenge the sheriff of the town. As he should. As we expect.
Movies have been around as popular entertainment for less than a century. Yet collectively, Americans have consumed countless movies over our lifetimes. Part of the pleasure of seeing a movie is having a primal itch scratched. I feel like seeing a horror movie tonight. Not me, I want to see a romcom. No way, give me an action picture. I’m in the mood for a war movie. While audiences enjoy a good twist, a surprise ending or an unexpected development, they also look forward to, and in fact expect, certain notes to be hit.
The truth is that audiences are moved by very elemental emotions: being heartbroken, being chased, being lonely, laughter, joy, birth, death, mothers, fathers, growing up and too many others to name. And audiences pay for the privilege of being taken on a journey of both pleasurable familiarity and thrilling surprises.
Get to know your genre and the expectations of that genre so that while the story will be totally unique, the underlying, universally resonant moments are there for the reader. And ultimately, the viewer. And bear in mind, no matter which genre, this story is happening to and about a character. If we can’t relate to the character, the funny won’t be funny, the scary won’t be scary and the horror might even be funny.
Give the people what they want. Be it thriller, drama, comedy, western or romantic comedy. As Donald O’Connor sang so memorably: Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em laugh!