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.

Play your cards early

There's a tendency among writers to save up for the big "reveal." Whenever we write character driven screenplays, we always have a plan for that big moment in the end. That moment when all mysteries are revealed, all backstory is exposed, and all questions are answered. In fact, like good disciples of Chekhov, we sprinkle in the questions throughout the script. That way, the big reveal is even bigger! Often, this reveal moment is the one we've had in our mind since we first started growing the concept. It was that initial seed. "What if I wrote a script about... (insert random character backstory)... a person who found out as a child that his parents are brother and sister?" Ooooh... ahhh... moronic...

But to reveal that to the audience must be huge. It's what the entire script hinges on. Everything builds to that scene!

Why do we insist on doing it like this? I swear, this is a deformed, bastardized child of Syd Field's screenwriting books. After all, according to Mr. Field, all characters have that one moment in their past that has created who they are today. So, if you write this wittily and ironically deep character, it stands to reason that we're all reading this story to find out how he/she became who they are. Such methods formed the central structure of most of my earlier scripts.

It was during a college writing course, that I finally found out the error of my ways. I wrote a story of two guys sitting in a car talking to each other (wow, such an ingenious set-up. I hope it pays off!). As the tension builds between them, we eventually come to the moment we've all been waiting for... that image shaping event in their past!!! Bust out Jenna Jameson's face because this thing has climaxed!

My instructor wasn't so thrilled. Let there be no mistake, I hate that man. He's an ass. I hated his class. It has truly taken me years to admit I learned anything from him.

Instructor: "What's the point of reading all that if you don't know what's going on?"
Inside my head: "You ass. The point is that there are questions, and those questions make you wonder why these people are the way they are."
Instructor: "If you put these secrets out in front for all to see, it colors everything that happens afterwards. It makes things more lively."

Hmmm... the fool has a point.

In improv, the moment we walk onto an empty stage, we must establish CROW.

C - Characters. Who is everybody?
R - Relationships. Who likes who? Who has high status and who has low status? How long have they known each other?
O - Objective. What does each character want?
W - Where. Ummm... this one is obvious. Where is the scene taking place?

That's why improv scenes often begin with very on-the-nose dialog. "Pa! Mean Mr. Harkins says he's gonna take our farm if the corn doesn't grow!" "God will see us through, Billy. Don't you ever doubt it!"

And the scene is set up. We know everything we need to move forward.

Screenwriters need to get as much CROW out as early as possible. Hopefully through subtext, but a half page of voice over can be a lot more economical than five pages of subtext dancing. Get the info out there! Let the reader know! This crap where the good guy and the bad guy reveal that they're actually brothers on page 90? Put it in the god damn setup!!!

But what about surprises? Twists? Reversals? A script needs to be constantly changing and shocking the reader. If you reveal everything in Act I, what's left?

Ah-ha! That's the trick. That's what brings us back to my common mantra that "WRITING IS WORK." If you play your cards early, it forces you to invent newer, better, bigger cards later! Come up with better twists, reveals, surprises. And what will you get when you're done? A script that stands up as a whole instead of one that depends on the ending to bring order to the rest.

This all comes back to the "kill your babies" advice. When we begin writing, we often have babies that we feel would make for a great character reveal. And instead of pushing ourselves to come up with more clever insights into our characters and plots, we base the entire script around these little tidbits.

As an example, I once read a script that was clearly a knock-off of Indiana Jones. The writer had some device (some gem) that had all of these extraordinary powers. The problem was that he didn't even give us a taste of what those powers were. Good? Bad? Who knows! It was all saved up for the big reveal. Another reader hearkened back to Raiders of the Lost Ark. They could have left the powers of the Ark undefined. But instead, Kasdan has Indy explain it to the government guys. He pulls out a book that has a handy picture. "Is that lightning?" "Power of God." We know what this thing is capable of. Does the Ark work? Come on, everyone knows this thing will blast the shit out of someone by the end. But the way the script puts it all together and sets everything up for the final showdown is brilliant. They didn't need to save any cards because they had stuffed their pockets with the Ace of Spades! Multiple Aces of Spades.

So if you have that "big moment" when all truth in the universe is finally revealed, ask yourself if it wouldn't be more powerful to put that in the beginning and come up with something even more badass for the end.