Just Effing Entertain Me

Stakes

Imagine this: a friend says to you – you’ll never guess what happened today! I was headed to the grocery store and the traffic was really bad! O-kay. But try it a different way: I was headed to my wedding and the traffic was really bad! Now we are left with a pressing question: did you make it on time? Now we are interested in the outcome because something was at stake and it wasn’t the price of cantaloupe.

Stakes in your screenplay are about exciting outcomes. An outcome is not exciting unless either something bad might happen if it doesn’t work out or something really great will NOT happen. If there’s nothing at stake then we have an ordinary day in real life. Gee, hope I make it to the gym before they close. Yawn.

Real life is often quite pedestrian. But movies are about conflict. Without conflict, your script will be labeled “soft”, stamped with a PASS and tossed into the recycling bin. Verily, Rouge Wavers would be surprised how often newer writers just don’t have enough in the way of stakes in their scripts. Memorize this: movies are about conflict. Something always has to be at stake. What if the little animals in OVER THE HEDGE can’t get back to safety? Will Woody be reunited with the little boy who loves him in TOY STORY? Stakes are – tell me what happened? Did he make it? Did she find out? Did they catch the train on time?? They are why we sit in our seats until the credits roll. They are what happens in the end.

Stakes are the engine that drives your story forward toward its inevitable end. Stakes, conflicts and obstacles are always relative to the premise of your story and to your main character. The stakes, conflicts and obstacles present in PIRATES III are excitingly appropriate for that particular premise. The stakes and conflicts in FREAKY FRIDAY are relative to that premise. And BRIGADOON. And DISTURBIA.

In SOPHIE’S CHOICE, Sophie must choose between one of her two babies in a Nazi concentration camp. Stakes don’t get bigger than that. But stakes can be funny too: what is at stake for Derek Zoolander in ZOOLANDER? Only his life’s work, his identity and his ego. That’s pretty huge for Derek.

Stakes can be the end of the world, telling the person you love that you love them, saving a life, stopping a killer, restoring an important relationship, saving the nation from nuclear war. The size and scope, the bigness of the stakes in your story should be a relative match for the premise and your main character. It would be ludicrous if the stakes in DISTURBIA, for example, were the end of the world – that’s totally outside of the premise. And remember, if you execute your pages beautifully, that an old woman’s garden will wilt and die can be a huge set of stakes – for that character. Think about the genre. Are you writing an action picture? Okay the garden really isn’t going to work. But it worked beautifully (if campily) in SILENT RUNNING.

Do some homework; watch some of your favorite movies. Press the pause button in the early part of the movie and ask yourself what seems to be at stake for the main character. Is it clear to you what the main character’s goal is? Now watch for a while longer and pause again – what is the character’s flaw? What conflicts is the character facing? What will happen if he or she doesn’t reach their goal through whatever narrative is in motion?

Remember the fundamental tenet of drama: stasis – change – stasis. Movies ARE conflict. Nobody will pay nine dollars and sit still for two hours to watch a story in which nothing significant is at stake. Check your premise; it is right there, before you start writing pages, that you need to make sure you have stakes that will drive your story. How funny it was that time you and your buddies went to Vegas doesn’t sound that interesting. Unless you went there to kill yourself. Unless you went there to count cards. Unless you went there to steal a billion dollars from the casino vault. Those are stakes.

What Does "Narrative" Mean in a Coverage?

What is the difference between narrative and structure? Well, structure is the spine upon which the story is hung. So that makes the narrative the flesh. Ew. All right let’s get a little more Joseph Campbell: structure is that good old-fashioned, old-as-time system of telling a story with markers that divide moments and acts so that the story resonates for us on a very primal, subconscious level. We’re talking about cave drawings around the campfire old.

Not all scripts, manuscripts or oral traditions follow exactly the same structure but we do know beginning, middle, end is a must. We know that certain guideposts make the story more satisfying. Think of Uncle Figgis and how he tells you about his vacations in such a droning way that you actually cross the street when you see him coming. What if Figgy were to punctuate his stories with reversals, cliffhangers and unexpected twists? Well, let’s just say he’d move up the table at Thanksgiving.

So, what is narrative? Narrative is the delivery system for the story or another way of putting that is- the way the story is told. Narrative refers to pacing, voice, style and certainly genre. The narrative should be a beautiful mountain range with peaks, valleys, sunlight and shadow.

The number one problem I see among newer writers is a flat or linear narrative. A linear narrative is one in which a chain of loosely connected events follow one another until we chug to Fade Out. Many screenwriting gurus and teachers have compared the trajectory of a script to a rollercoaster. And an apt comparison that is – perfect in fact. Newer writers often find themselves with something more closely resembling a moving sidewalk. We just sort of slowly motor past a series of tableaus that don’t add up to anything.

Think of that rollercoaster; that slow ratchet, ratchet, ratchet to the top of the hill until our necks are craned skyward and we are filled with anticipation. Now the rollercoaster lets loose and off we go, hanging on for dear life. Dips, curves, straight-aways and loops keep us thrilled and keen participants.

So what can a writer do to identify whether their narrative is flat? Well, it is important to remember that each scene is connected to the one before it and the one after it – there is a causality as we bump from one scene to the next. And that causality will be part of a build. Even slow build movies accomplish this; LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE is a great example of a slow but effective build; we know the family has got to get to California on time or they will miss the beauty pageant.

It is important to know what you are building toward: is it the big Thanksgiving dinner (HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS) the meteor streaking toward earth (ARMAGEDDON) or a simple beauty pageant? Everything builds in a direction of catharsis and resolution.

Characters in movies are driven toward something, inevitably. And as they get nearer to the ordeal or goal or challenge they will face, scenes begin to compress so that a sense of urgency begins to infuse the pages.

Review your scenes and sequences and ask yourself: what is happening in this sequence? Flip to the next scene and ask: …and how did it affect this scene? …and the one after that? Are the conflicts and stakes rising as you page through your script? Your scenes should start to get shorter, action should start to move faster. There should be a sense of movement.

It is my theory that newer writers fall into the “Well, I thought it was cool” trap. They will write a sequence or scene that entertains them but that does not serve the story. Never forget that the story is the master and the writer simply the humble water boy.

If you were to draw a graph of your story, using dots to mark where scenes hit really high or really low notes, would there ultimately be a chart showing rising tension? There better be. A flat, linear narrative is an absolute death knell for a script. Even if you have great characters, a boring narrative is sure to sink the ship. Right into the dancing rouge waves. No question about it.

Chart your scenes and look for a pattern of rising conflict. Look for moments that plummet your character very low then raise them very high. Be merciless; are the scenes, even your favorites – active enough to justify themselves?

Keep very much in mind the rollercoaster versus the moving sidewalk. It is sometimes so hard to be objective about your own work; scenes that thrill you may not thrill someone else. This is why I suggest getting out a red pencil and literally graphing the conflict and making sure your narrative offers us a many and varied topography. Don’t just show us things happening; characters must be at cross-purposes so that rising conflict paints us a picture of light and dark, fast and slow – a mountain range that ultimates in a satisfying ending.

One fun way to really nail your understanding of a kinetic, causal narrative with highs and lows is to think of a funny, strange or odd chain of events that happened to you recently. Think of it – you set the scene: So, we had just gotten off the plane in Jamaica. You add an “inciting incident”: Then we discovered our luggage was lost! Maybe a little complication: And we couldn’t pay the cabbie so we had to walk! Add some suspense: So then we were walking along, right? Past donkeys and fruit vendors and tin drums when you wouldn’t believe what we saw! Nice cliffhanger. Woody Harrelson! Sitting there playing the tin drums….and so on.

We all do it, we tell stories all the time. About our day, our vacation, our date. And when we tell stories, we maintain eye contact, we gesture with our hands and we pause for effect. We become animated because it is greatly validating and satisfying to watch the listener respond joyfully – for them to GET IT. How many times have you trailed off wistfully, seeing the listener is really not into it, and said “I guess you had to be there.”

Whether it is on the page or in person, when you tell a story, exploit it for maximum comedy, fear, grossness or whatever. We are all story tellers; it is our primal inheritance. Do it and have fun. Don’t be intimidated by the black and white of a script page. Think of it the same way – keep your audience hooked. Make them turn the page quickly – what happens next? Don’t let yourself become the crazy old lady with sideways lipstick, fuzzy hair and a cat who everybody avoids because her stories are so boring.