Oh shit! Back to the middle

I'm going to talk/write again about the most important beat in all the screenwriting world. When you finally understand the importance of this plot-point, it will move you ahead like finding the magic flutes in Super Mario 3. This is the turbo button on your scripts. It's changed the way I look at writing. It is the midpoint.

Every screenwriting book tips its hat to the midpoint, almost always using the phrase, "The midpoint is where the stakes are raised." That's all they say. That's all they know. "Where the stakes are raised." What does that even mean?

In truth, the stakes aren't raised at the midpoint. They're created.

Yep, screw your ticking clocks and character throughlines. The midpoint is where the layers of fluff are scraped away and all you're left with is the deep shit that your characters have to plow through. The stakes aren't raised here. The stakes fucking punch your protagonist in the nuts/ovaries. We're not having fun anymore; there's some real heavy shit going down. The midpoint is the "Oh, shit!" point.

Let's look at the high-grossing, highly enjoyable, high concept, high action JURASSIC PARK as an example. Go to "Drew's Script-o-rama" and find a pdf of the script. Then scroll down until the scroll bar is at about the middle. What scene do you land on? The power is off; the T-rex is escaping; the heavy shit has just started to go down. Oh, shit!

Thinking back on the movie, it seems that the T-rex scene happens much much earlier. Aren't they running around the park for at least 2/3 of the movie? Shouldn't the T-rex escape at the Act I TP? Do we really have a full half of the movie as exposition with "Mr. DNA?"

The T-rex breaks free in the middle. The park is in chaos in the middle. The rides are derailed and Sam Neil has to take the children on foot back to the main compound. Now that's an Oh Shit! moment.

And that's why the midpoint is so important. It changes everything. Before the midpoint, this was a story about experts expected to give their endorsement on a genetic engineering marvel, but they had to get over their moral reservations. Aside from a teaser opening, there's no action or suspense. But halfway through, it transitions seamlessly into a movie about survival.

Let's look at another Spielberg creation (I use movies from my childhood because I've watched them so many times that I can list off their beats instantly) JAWS. This midpoint transition isn't as seamless. In fact, JAWS is two very different movies with two very different settings and antagonists. Who's the antagonist in the first half? It ain't the shark. It's the town. It's the mayor. It's the city council who's putting their tourist dollars above public safety. Chief Brody is a classic "man against the world" character as he struggles to do what's right in the face of it all. He wants to close the beaches and get the town to kill the shark. He's fighting the mayor every step of the way. And then what happens? Exactly halfway through the movie, another shark attack (and a very forceful Brody) convince the mayor to give in. Victory! But now, Brody (who hates the water, and hasn't been in it yet in the movie) has to go out to see on a boat with two other guys and hunt down and kill the shark. Oh shit! Suddenly, it's a very different movie with a very different feel and very different motivation.

What's important is that the protagonist's original goal is resolved at the midpoint. It's the end of the original storyline. Brody got the town to agree to close the beaches and hunt the shark. Indy finds the Ark. The team of experts goes on their dinosaur tour, having mostly made up their minds of how they feel about "man playing God" with genetics. In romantic comedies, the two leads, who have been separated by their quirky and polar opposite personalities, finally hook up.

But when the midpoint twist happens (in the biggest, most memorable way possible), new goals and motivations are thrown into the spotlight. And these new ordeals cut to the heart of the character. It slices open their insecurities and faults and forces them to dig deep. Whatever happens at the midpoint is real, and the consequences of failure are extreme. Chief Brody's job was threatened in the first half; his life is threatened in the second. Perhaps that's what people mean by "the stakes are raised." However, the stakes are completely different. The old stakes vanish, maybe not entirely, but they're certainly dimmed in comparison to the new stakes.

Let's look at BACK TO THE FUTURE. What's Marty's initial goal? To find Doc Brown so he can go back to 1985. That's all Marty is doing. All his actions are leading him to find a way back home. But, at the midpoint, he finds Doc Brown, shows him the time machine, and after 5 minutes, Doc Brown has a solution. Problem solved, good times had by all, story over. But wait! Has Marty changed the past in any way? What?! He's split up his parents, thus endangering his own existence?! Oh shit!

It happens right at the midpoint.

Frodo only wants to get the ring to Rivendale. Halfway through, he gets there. Oh shit! Now he has to take it the whole way.

The Marines and Ripley want to see what happened to the colonists. At the midpoint, they find them cocooned by aliens. Oh shit! Now they have to fight them off.

Buttercup wants her true love, Wesley, back. Oh my god, he's alive as the Dread Pirate Roberts! Oh shit! Now they have to overcome death and an entire army to be together.

Striker wants Elaine. She rejects him. Oh shit! The airplane's crew is all sick and Striker is the only one who can land it.

To use a real-life example, pretend your script is Operation Iraqi Freedom. The troops march in with a goal in mind - remove Saddam from power. With very little effort, they do exactly that. President Bush stands on the aircraft carrier with the infamous "Mission Accomplished" banner in the background. Problem solved. But what's this? Insurgents? Terrorists? A country not ready to govern itself? An anxious homefront? A rising death toll? Oh shit! It's just like a movie.

This is why your script needs not only the "Oh shit!" moment, but right before that, it needs a huge "Mission Accomplished" banner.

Why do movies need this? Because 90-120 minutes is a long time for a person to sit still. Essentially, all of the plots listed above are TWO DIFFERENT MOVIES! That's the key to high concept. That's the key to writing a script that builds and builds toward an amazing climax. That's the key to addings twists and surprises to a script that keeps the reader reading and the viewer watching. Otherwise, you have a "get on with it" movie.

That's why so many screenplays fall flat. They might have that great starting idea ("teenager finds himself in the 1950s and has to get back to his time"), but they don't find that second idea to stack on top of it ("but interferes with his parent's first meet and has to set them up or he won't exist").

The midpoint key is also the key to a good logline. All you have to do is stack one premise on the other and suddenly the logline comes to life. If you don't have a solid midpoint, you won't have a solid second idea, and your logline (not to mention your script) will sound flat. It'll lack the hook. Every logline and script should have the "but then an 'oh shit!' moment happens."

I'll probably write more on this later, but just writing this post has given me stuff to think about for the current script I'm having problems with.

Time to start runnin'

I'm at the age where people around me begin to pop out babies. There seems to be a flood of new people in the world, and by flood, I mean 4. Of the 4, only one was planned. Which is why I wear a condom 24/7. I mean, I don't want to accidentally impregnate something on my way to the post office. Jesus, people! Don't you realize that when semen enters the vagina, there's a chance it will come into contact with an egg and begin the reproductive process? You don't need to pass the AP Bio test to understand this. It's just simple miosis. It's a strange thing, but one of my greatest fears at this stage of my life is an unplanned pregnancy, not that I don't want kids. Just not now. At the same time, I have little to no sympathy for people who find themselves with an unplanned pregnancy. It seems remarkably avoidable to prevent a microscopic, one-tailed single-celled organism that dies quickly when exposed from swimming what to it must be the length of the Gulf of Mexico to find something the size of a pin-head.

But I digress...

By hangin' with the young-uns, I've been able to watch as they turn from helpless, yelling blobs into gangly, moving mechanisms. First they lie. Then they crawl. Then they stand. Then they... run? Yep, there aparently isn't a "walking" phase until later. As soon as they learn to stand, they start running. It kind of breaks the "baby-steps" saying, doesn't it? When I saw one of them thumping around at their 10 month period, it was obvious why he was running instead of walking. It was the only way to stay up! He was so unstable that the only way to keep his massive head from tipping him over was to keep his legs under him as quickly as possible. And his mom sat back and watch. "Thump-thump-thump-thump... WHUMP." Down he would go. Mom laughed and he laughed. Had Mom gasped, he would have cried. Funny how that works. He crawled up and started thumping away again.

And now to my point...

The time is right for me to start running. My baby-step days of screenwriting are over. I have hoisted myself on my legs and I need to blast into forward momentum before I topple over again.

I don't know if I classify this as a New Years Resolution. A resolution seems like something that you want to change. I'm perfectly satisfied with my handling of my career up until now. I have been taking it slow. I have been gently learning to crawl and then stand. In order to run, I first needed to have 2 healthy, strong legs underneath me.

And that was what always held me back. I had one script to my name for years. And when I added another, it was in a different genre (essentially, instead of adding a second leg, I brought in an arm). Then a script in a third genre (I don't even know what body part I'm on now). But now, I have two solid horror scripts on which to walk. I have a raunchy comedy that, although a different genre than horror, has a similar audience to horror. I've learned how to market myself, somewhat.

So I have my legs. You can't run with only one leg and you can't start in this industry with only one script. I've grown as a writer which has added some meat to those bones. I've made some contacts, gotten a few resume padders, and increased my portfolio.

If I try to walk now, I'll topple over. I'm new, young, inexperienced, and unconnected. Therefore, I am unstable in my writing career. The only way to keep my balance is to go full-speed ahead. Let's see how this plays out...

The sour taste of bad scripts

I have often said that ANYONE can write a screenplay. They don't have many pages or words. They have strict formatting guidelines. They have formulas and predetermined plot points that make it easy for any writer to plug in information and churn out a first draft on the backend. I think every writer has experienced the 1-2 week first draft; and every new writer brags about it. "I was in a zone, man. I was like rattling off 10 to 20 pages a night. I was inspired." That's how easy it is to write a screenplay.

It's also very easy to write well in a screenplay. Go to any screenwriting message board that allows people to post their pages online. Pithy action. Witty dialog. Characters with bite. Scenes that pop. There's some good shit out there. Let's face it, there's a good chunk of writers out there who actually know how to write.

So why are most scripts AWFUL?

Every writer believes that they are undiscovered genius, but all these wannabes have clogged the industry pipeline with an unrelenting barrage of shit. Woe is to be that poor suffering inspired writer who has found the gateway to Hollywood locked because it's the only way to keep the garbage out.

The fact that every writer believes every other writer sucks must prove something. Writing is self-delusion. And writers need to open their eyes to the hard truth that their scripts are the feces that plug the toilets of this town.

And why is that?

Because despite all their brilliance, despite their great scenes and wonderful dialog, the script fell flat. The script was less than the sum of its parts.

And boy do I see this all the time. Decent scene upon decent scene linked together by the bonds of moronic plot devices. And while I could pluck out any page and it would read smooth and pure, when it's all together, it can't hold up its end of the story.

That is why the story is the key. And writers don't pay attention to that. They don't work at making sure their scenes build, one atop another. They don't give their scripts the "moron meter" or simple logic tests. They write circles around their problems instead of backing up and taking a path that wouldn't lead to those problems. When they force their characters to make stupid choices in order to move the script from plot point A to plot point B, they rationalize it with, "Nobody will care" or "It worked in so and so."

I've used this analogy before - Figuring out a story is like climbing a mountain. In theory, you can start anywhere from the base of the mountain and reach the summit. But in reality, there are only a few legitimate paths to the top. If you don't take the time to find those paths, you'll be off trail, you'll be bushwhacking through streams, you'll be walking in circles, you might never reach the summit.

You must attack your script from the right direction. No amount of fancy writing and great characters can save a bad story. At the end of the day, the script will leave a bad taste in the reader's mouth.

As is my mantra in this blog, writers must hold themselves to higher standards. They have to force themselves to do better.

Mystery + Revelation = Discovery

Wow. It's been a solid 4 months since I lasted posted on a blog that nobody reads. It really hammers home the insignificance of everything I write here. Kinda like my screenwriting career. Oooh... diss.

Anyway, today's revelation is the concept of mystery.

I've been trying to bone up on my horror writing skills since, well, there's ALWAYS a market for horror. If I'm gonna sell out, I may as well sell out for a script that can have 12 sequels. At the very least, that's 12 "characters created by..." checks I'll be able to deposit. And that's what this is all about, right? Hellz yeah!

While talking to a friend about horror, he commented that a common aspect of the genre is "mystery." Makes sense. THE RING and SILENT HILL were all about uncovering the mystery of "why is this happening?" THE SIXTH SENSE, SE7EN, SILENCE OF THE LAMBS - all classic horror/dramas - had a certain amount of mystery.

Slasher films are a "whodunit?" mystery.
Creature films (including Jason and Freddy) are a "where did it come from?/How do we kill it?" mystery.

Mystery is in many genres. Action movies often have a Bruce Willis cop trying to figure out, "What's the bad guy's real plan?" "How do I stop him?" "Who is the 'inside man' who's helping the bad guy?"

In RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, most reviewers and synopsis would describe the Ark as "mysterious." Where is it? What does it do?

The reason that mystery is so ingrained in screenplays is because mystery + revelation = discovery.

It's the motor of the screenplay. It gives us a purpose to keep on reading. We want the answers. Those moments of discovery offer the twists and turns that can carry a script for 110 pages. Without them, the script feels like it's trying to get its wheels to catch on a muddy embankment. The reader begins to ask, "Why should I care?" A mystery gives the reader something to care about.

Never forget the equation "mystery + revelation = discovery." Without revelation, there is no mystery. It's just a question that's been answered. The revelation is key because it gives the chance for thematic set-pieces. Scenes where something BIG has just happened. Something so big that the hero begins to put the pieces together. Indiana Jones in the map room scene. The "I see dead people" scene. Moments you remember. Moments that change everything in the story.

Most character arcs utilize revelations and discoveries. The hero suddenly sees the world in a different way. They've solved a mystery, albeit, the mystery may have led to a new mystery. But the mystery is the gas in the combustible engine that screenplays need.

This is all probably sounding very familiar. I'm sure many people have written about the need for screenplays to lay out questions and then answer those questions. And yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about.

But the word "mystery" carries a larger meaning. A mystery doesn't just reveal it's answer. In fact, a mystery usually doesn't even reveal itself. They need to be sought out. They need to be dissected and figured out. Solving a mystery requires an active protagonist who's willing to go to whatever lengths to plumb the depths of it. They have to solve the mystery. They have to be film noir detectives.

That's why mystery is so much more than just a question. A question is asked by the writer. A mystery is asked by the hero.

The "mystery" idea isn't a rule or a "must-have." In fact, many great scripts contain zero or limited mysterious elements. Comedies are relatively light on mystery and discovery. But if your script is having motor issues. If your characters are walking from one scene to another, but it's all feeling forced and pointless, think about adding mystery into the mix.

For a counter-example of this in action, take a look at the remake of PROM NIGHT. Why doesn't it work like a slasher flick should? Because all the cards were played early. You don't know anything more at the end of the movie than you do at the beginning. Your world has never been changed.

Oh, Spellcheck, why must you hate "Dialogue?"

But for whatever reason, it has no problem with "dialog." That u and e have caused me an insignificant, yet still existent, amount of angst. I mean, who the hell writes "dialog" in a script? The word looks like it describes a record of your outgoing phone calls. Now, "dialogue," that's something a screenplay should have.

Oh!... speaking of "dialogue," I had a point to make.

You can read anywhere that dialogue is supposed to serve 2 purposes - create character and move the plot forward. If it doesn't do one or the other, it's wasted.

Sure, we all read that rule, but we don't really pay attention to it. Think of all the superfluous dialogue in most movies. Line after line that only sets up a mediocre joke. Also, how many raunchy things does Stifler have to say before we understand that his character is... raunchy? Ummm, 1?

So we discount this rule all the time.

Well, I recently made a discovery (look at me, way to go Colombus, but the Indians were already on the fucking continent). My opening pages were floundering and I couldn't figure out why. I had a hard time reading through my dialogue and the whole script seemed to be pulling itself through mud. It was witty dialogue, it had character personality in it, and it explained the world of my script. What was wrong?

It comes down to "Forward Momentum Dialogue" and "Backward Momentum Dialogue."

My characters were trying to establish themselves to the reader and the other characters on the page. They were revealing their backstory. They were throwing quips around about how they felt about certain things. In essence, everything they said was dealing or reacting to something that happened in the past. It was backward momentum. They were laying the bricks for the road they had already trod upon. Well, what's the f-ing point of that?

It messed up the entire momentum of the script. Things were slogging. It felt talky. And worst of all, I didn't give a shit. The dialogue was throwing its weight to everything that the characters had no control over.

This was especially tough to figure out because it all occurred in my setup. After all, "get in late, get out early." I had started my script as late as possible, but I needed to lay the foundation for the reader. Well, shit, you can't build a foundation for something you're already standing on. But unless you go back to the true beginning (which means a script that shows a time-lapse growth through your character's first 20-something years, ugh) then you have some backstory explaining to do.

And this forms the real bitch of writing the setup. How do you get all this information in there but not get bogged down with characters explaining themselves? Personally, I'm a fan of just opening with voice over. Accomplish all your backstory in a half page of intense regressive writing.

But the real solution is forward momentum dialogue and forward momentum characters.

This hearkens back to the old mantra, "Every character should enter every scene with a goal." They need to want something now. Not something from their childhood. Something now. They need to smack into their conflict now. They need to move forward, forward, forward. Pushing ahead so strong that they don't have any energy left to send behind them.

It's easier said than done, and it's not a real solution to the problem. If I think of the solution, I'll be sure to write it. Right now, I'm just concerned with scrapping my current draft and starting again.

Yay, Page 1!!

DO NOT VOTE FOR BERNARD PARKS!!

Do NOT elect Bernard Parks to Culver City Council!

If you live in Culver City and have a voice in this election, use it to stop Bernard Parks.

Why? Because for the past week, Mr. Parks has done NOTHING but badger me with recorded phone messages asking for my vote. I cannot condone or endorse such annoyances. This is like a mosquito that managed to buy both your f-ing cell phone and home line numbers. And won't stop calling!

One of his messages even warned me about the postage increase. Wow, thanks Mr. Parks! You're really looking out for me! Way to have my back.

I cannot allow this to continue. I want his campaign destroyed. I want his candidacy demolished. I want his defeat so resounding that he's exhausted all income and can never bother the world again.

I bet this is how the Emperor came to power in Star Wars. He called every f-ing person in the Galactic Republic 3 TIMES IN ONE DAY to ask for their vote with a recorded message.

Save the world! Save your phone bills! Save your sanity! Vote no for Bernard Parks! Voting no for him is the only way to keep me from being disillusioned in the system now.


And if there's a way to remove myself from whatever list he's using, will somebody please tell me? And this process had better be easy because every second I spend on this makes me hate Bernard Parks all the more.

That's right, Bernard Parks. I hate you.

The script rotates around its midpoint

I'm going to tack this onto the previous post about revealing secrets early.

This post is about an under-emphasized plot point in screenplays - the midpoint.

Every screenwriting book touches on this beat. It's when your romantic leads have sex. It's when your Hero becomes more entwined. It's where there's a seeming victory followed by a colossal defeat. It's where a set piece (Sally orgasms in the deli in front of Harry) that gives the script a bit more umph until the end.

Sure, it's all of these things, but what do these all really say? It's the moment when the story changes entirely.

The second half of a movie is a completely different plot than the first. It's as if a second catalyst has been plopped down at the 55 page mark. And that's the way to look at it. A catalyst. Something that immediately and irreversibly changes the complexion of the story.

Look at the classic film "Raiders of the Lost Ark." How tempting it must have been for Kasdan to put the discovery of the Ark in Act III. After all, Indy has been racing with the Nazis to find it this whole time. Wouldn't the Well of the Souls be a great location for the final showdown? Everything converges on the Ark for a climatic showdown.

But no. He didn't even put the discovery of the Ark at the Act II turning point. He put it at the midpoint! They find the Ark halfway through the movie! While the first half of the movie is about the race to find the Ark (of which Indy is always one step ahead), the second half is the race to steal the Ark (during which Indy is often one step behind). They are two different movies. If "The Adventures of Indiana Jones" was a TV series, this would be the season finale/season premiere split.

A major secret was revealed at the midpoint (thus hooking this onto my last post about revealing secrets early). All great scripts have a MAJOR reveal at the midpoint. A reveal or incident that's so massive that it would be tempting to make a climax out of it. But the challenge is to go even further for the climax. They may have found the Ark at the midpoint, but heads melt and explode at the climax.

But what about Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? You don't see the Grail until the last 15 minutes of the film. Well, as Indy says earlier, "I'm not here for the Cup of Christ. I'm here to find my father." And when do Sr. and Jr. finally converge? At the midpoint. And what else happens at the crucial juncture? "You should have listened to your father..." Oh my God! Elsie's a Nazi!

Yep, two main reveals were exposed at the midpoint. Sean Connery could have made his appearance at the end. Sucky. Elsie could have come out at the last minute and declared her allegiance to Hitler. Sucky. Instead, all the secrets were revealed halfway through the movie.

The reason why is pretty common sense. Movies are long. They need that extra engine to power them through until the end. They need an answer to the audience's "Why do I care?" question long before the climax. Also, people don't really care about the secret. What they really want to see is how the secret plays out. And for that, there needs to be run-off time.

So, once again, reveal your secrets early. Challenge yourself to make those secrets worthwhile by the climax.