Tuesday, September 29, 2015

The Story Meeting

The worst part about going over a story meeting is the back and forth of questions and answers that pound a script into a shape that you can film. Most who don't do this, will essentially suffer in post production. If you go too far, you will suffer in post.

So the new script I'm working on with a friend, we've been hacking away at all the details. Since that is what really destroys a story. When people start to ask the what/where/how/whys. The balance being the question "Does it really matter?"

Also, pre-visualizing stories are brain numbing. A lot of the times it's attempting to put into words what you see on screen. What you think you write, others may not see. So you HAVE TO BE CLEAR. And that clarity is what makes it difficult. On top of everything else, you also have to pace it so it reads like you're watching it. To explain the visuals, we often times get ahead of ourselves. So, a few times, we get gaps. Sometimes it's good. The advice of starting as late into a scene as possible is movie logic. Stop to think how often (in movies) people ask a question in one scene, then they continue the conversation at a completely different location. As if they were talking until they got to that location. It works for some odd reason. Also, some times, the passage of time bends time. For example the argument scene in "Breakfast At Tiffany's" has Paul Varjak getting an earful from Holly. He leaves her with a zinger. Hits to her core of being a woman who is usually bought off. Exit and out. The next scene we see, time has passed, the season has changed so we assume time has passed. Paul gets paid, he is happy and it hits him, to share the good news with the person who prompted him to get back to writing by buying him a typewriter ribbon...Holly. Boom, no need to garble up time with discussions of anything. We fill in the gaps. It's fucking tricky as hell. Because over-explaining is easy to do. Bad dialogue is easier. The biggest problem I face constantly is putting words into actors mouths that in real life would be corny. It's sort of what Cameron Crowe does. By leaving a scene with an actor saying something poignant and the other actor left with something to ponder...this is TERRIBLE cornball structure. In life, no one really philosophizes all that much. They talk of the situation or what is directly in front of them. Rarely do they banter deep thoughts and vamp unless it's meant to be abstract. I would say the simplest solution is to shave as much dialogue as possible.

So I've been beating this script around asking questions. It's painful as fuck. And I'm glad I'm not without company. It's been said Billy Wilder drove Charles Brackett to the brink of insanity over writing "The Lost Weekend" and with Izzy Diamond over the rest of the movies. It's a meticulous process if you want to do something great. However, painful if you go too far. After all, a story is a short hand of events to draw pure emotion. Has nothing to do with logic (to an extent). It's the feel people leave with. So my major question that drew a chorus of crickets "What do you want people to feel when they're done watching this?"

No comments:

Post a Comment