Tag Archives: screenwriter

Sneak preview of new horror novel “Project Nine”!

Today, I wanted to share with you something very special to me.

Here is the first look at the amazing cover for my new horror novel, “Project Nine”. The folks over at MyInkBooks have done a fantastic job putting this together. Suffice to say, a picture can say a thousand words!

But don’t be misled into thinking this is a straight-up horror yarn. I would never let you readers off the hook so easily! No, “Project Nine” is instead a horror/sci-fi/love story! Add a realistic police investigation and the evil machinations of a  ruthless politician… and you have a modern horror story with a distinctly classic feel.

The precise plot is under wraps for the moment, but I can say that if you like horror, this is the book for you! Even if the luscious young lady on the front cover doesn’t tempt you, how about this gushing review: “the narrative prose expounds a candor much in tune with all the greats in Literature”.

And as for how the novel got to be published, well that’s a story in itself!

But in case it sounds like I’m trying to sell you something… take a look below and see what you think.

FrontCover2

 

“Project Nine” is due to be published later this year.  I’ll be releasing more news as it arrives. Watch out for it!

 

 

Bonus post! How to write Hollywood action lines part 3!

Here is something that trips me up time and time again, and I’ve seen even the most seasoned screenwriters falls for it. So I thought I would include it in this bonus post about how to write Hollywood-style action lines in your screenplay.

This tip can be summed up in one word:

EDIT.

What I mean is, you should always be trying to REMOVE UNNECESSARY WORDS.

Do you have a screenwriting bible?

I do.

It contains everything I’ve ever leant about screenwriting in bullet point form. Only I can understand it, which is fine because it’s only for my use. But in it, I’ve written down the words I should try to avoid at all costs.

And now I’m sharing them with you.

So here they are:

“But”

“And”

“As”

“Is/Are/Am”

“Both”

“Then”

“Just”

“We See”

Please note: if you read a lot of produced screenplays written by professional screenwriters, you will probably see these words being used over and over again. The difference between them and you?

They got paid already.

Another point worth mentioning is: don’t go overboard. If you include one “but” in a 110 page script, chances are it won’t make any difference. Also, if you edit your action lines down too much, they may not make sense. Removing every “a” or “the” will confuse the reader. Sometimes you might even want to deliberately break the rules to make more of an impact on the reader.

So use common sense.

But before you start marketing your script, a simple search for these words will allow you to edit them out of existence and strengthen your action lines. And that might be enough to tip the scales in your favour.

Now if only I’d used this tip on my last script…

How to Write Hollywood-Style action lines Part 2!

Here is the second chapter of how to write action lines.

Now, I’m not professing to write like any of the people whose work I’m about to discuss. However, I have noticed certain things which we as writers can do to make our action lines more professional. And this isn’t just for screenwriters, either. I believe that everyone (myself included) would benefit from analysing the style of the masters.

That said, I’m going to begin with a non-screenwriter.

Stan Lee is a comic book legend. The man who invented Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four, and many many more. Comic book style is even terser than screenwriting. They only have one caption to get across a lot of information.

Here is a passage I read from the Amazing Spider-Man a while ago:

“You’ll see Spidey turning to a psychiatrist for help after he becomes convinced he may be going mad! And wait’ll you learn who the mysterious shrink himself turns out to be. Next, our hero has to a battle a seemingly indestructible robot, and if that isn’t enough, the deadly mechanical marauder is actually controlled by the sneering, leering, J. Jonah Jameson himself!”

Notice anything?

If you’ve ever heard Stan the Man talk, you can probably hear his intonation ringing in your head right now. But let’s boil it down to some simple rules.

Let’s take another look:

“You’ll see Spidey turning to a psychiatrist for help after he becomes convinced he may be going mad! And wait’ll you learn who the mysterious shrink himself turns out to be. Next, our hero has to a battle a seemingly indestructible robot, and if that isn’t enough, the deadly mechanical marauder is actually controlled by the sneering, leering, J. Jonah Jameson himself!”

Lee’s style is so bold that generations of comic writers have mimicked him. Here we see several of Stan’s tell-tale traits at work. And if that isn’t a clue, nothing is!

Notice the sentence structure contains adjectives before most of the nouns (except for the proper noun ‘Spidey’, which is really a name). You have a “mysterious shrink”, a “seemingly indestructible robot”, and a “deadly mechanical marauder”.

Which brings us to our next Stan Lee trait: alliteration (words that begin with the same letter for those without an English degree). Phrases like: “Mechanical marauder”, and of course J. Jonah Jameson himself. Many more Stan Lee heroes are alliterative, too. Like Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, and Matt Murdock. Lee once said he did that on purpose so he could remember the names, but whatever the reason, it makes the phrases have even more impact.

There you go, two simple ways to make your action lines stand out: alliteration and adjectives.

However…

Just remember that screenplays are also sparse. They are images. Easy to follow. Easy to read. Mainly written in high school English. So do don’t go jumping for your Thesaurus just yet.

Consider this passage:

“The front of the Opera House is open only to foot traffic these days. A bizarre place on a Friday night, hawkers and whores, the rabble, the poor and the curious mill around the crudely built platforms and brightly lit stands. Zhora, in just a translucent raincoat, is not out of place in this flea market atmosphere. Trying not to run, she slices through the mob as quickly as she can. Deckard is not far behind, dodging and side-stepping, trying to move against the tide of people scurrying for shelter

She comes to an intersection and turns out of the mall onto a less crowded street. She glances over her shoulder as she breaks into a run and runs right into a couple of pedestrians. All three go down.

Deckard comes out of the crowd in time to spot her getting to her feet. She sees him and runs. The two pedestrians are in his line of fire. He runs past them and drops to one knee, leveling his blaster

DECKARD

Stop or you’re dead!

She doesn’t.”

 

That’s an excerpt from the screenplay “Bladerunnner” by Hampton Fancher and David Peoples, based (very loosely) on the novel by Phillip K Dick.

Let’s take a closer look:

The first paragraph sets the scene with a beautiful description that is little more than implied. But there are those adjectives again: “crudely-built”, “translucent”. However, as the action builds momentum, the prose becomes sparser and leaner. The sentences grow short. Simple. Fast. The pace builds until the climax…

Here, the screenwriters use sentence structure to create a sense of energy and pace. The action-filled nature of the scene is also emphasized by the strong verbs and tenses. Zhora “slices through the mob” Notice, she “slices”. She doesn’t just run or walk through them. This creates a feeling that she is powerful and determined. Meanwhile Deckard dodges and side-steps. He has to get out of people’s way. He is her physical inferior.

As the pace quickens, the verbs become even leaner: Zhora turns, glances, runs,  until she collides with more pedestrians.

A useful rule is to try to get rid of any “is” verbs. Is running. Is walking. Is grabbing. Is talking. These are static words that slow the reader down. Better to say he or she runs, walks, grabs, talks.

Time for a third example:

The granddaddy of all powerful prose has to be Robert E Howard, with his Conan stories. You will see similar patterns to Stan Lee in his work, which is effortless to read. Here is an excerpt from Conan’s battle with a sorcerer in “Black Colossus”:

“He cast his staff and it fell at the feet of Conan, who recoiled with an involuntary cry. For as it fell it altered horribly; its outline melted and writhed, and a hooded cobra reared up hissing before the horrified Cimmerian. With a furious oath, Conan struck, and his sword sheared the horrid shape in half.”

Notice the adjectives (marked in italics). Also notice the strong verbs: “He cast”, Conan “recoiled”, it “fell”, his sword “sheared” it in half.

I’ve found that a simple sentence structure works best:

adjective +subject + verb + adjective + object.

However, as with everything to do with writing, feel free to be as creative as you like.

In pointing out these stylistic devices, I’ve tried not to be prescriptive. However, Howard’s prose is extraordinarily powerful, as is Stan Lee’s, with its jokey, friendly, informal tone. While other screenwriters like David Peoples carve out lean, action-packed sentences to speed up the action.

By far the best way to discover what works is to read screenplays. I cannot emphasize enough how important this is. Only then do you get a sense of what a Hollywood script looks like. And then, of course, you can find your own voice as a writer.

But that is a post for another time!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Intermission – how to calculate movie budgets

Before we carry on with our discussion of action lines, here is something I learned about movie budgets.

One of the most popular questions asked of screenwriters is “What is the budget of this movie”? Yet there are no websites I can see which offer guidance on this. So, to fill a gap I thought I would share my research with you, gentle reader…

It can be frustrating for a screenwriter trying to estimate his or her potential screenplay’s budget. How much do SFX cost? How much does it cost to shoot in a particular city or range of locations? Will those exotic wild animals bump up the cost?

The only way I’ve found any answers is to look at previous movie budgets. Now, inflation can be a vexing devil, so I’ve only gone back a few years in most cases.

Here’s a list of recent movies from a range of budgets, along with what it cost to make them (All numbers are taken from http://www.boxofficemojo.com):

BIG BUDGET
Man of Steel = $225 million
Iron Man 3 = $200 million
World War Z = $190 million
Fast & Furious 6 = $160 million
Gravity = $100 million

MEDIUM BUDGET
Crazy Stupid Love= $50 million
Zero Dark Thirty = $40 million
The Social Network = $40 million
The Rite = $37 million
Saving Mr Banks = $35 million
Looper = $30 million
Anchorman = $26 million
The Conjuring = $20 million
The Apparition = $17 million
Nebraska = $12 million

LOW BUDGET
Paranormal Activity 2 = $3 million
The Purge = $3 million
Last Exorcism = $1.8 million
Insidious = $1.5 million
The Devil Inside = $1 million

MICROBUDGET

Paranormal Activity = $15,000

What does this mean? Well, let’s break it down.

BIG BUDGET

At the top end, we have big budget tentpole studio movies crammed with SFX and bankable stars. If you can make one of these for under $100 million, good luck. This is a very small market. Studios may only make a handful of these a year. Most of them are adaptations. Competition is fierce, and writing jobs are usually assignments that are  given to writers with a proven track record for generating serious cash. Here you will find your Joss Wheedons, David S Goyers and Zack Snyders.

MEDIUM BUDGET

In the middle range we have movies that are between £10-$100 million. This is a big range, and may movies are made for this amount of money. Factors that can push your script into this bracket include SFX, a few bankable stars, or lots of animals and stunt scenes. So if you’re filming Tom Hanks, Anthony Hopkins, or Steve Carrell, or your script calls for a family of tigers, or a scene where someone jumps onto a moving semi-trailer (that’s a lorry for those of you who are English), or a wise-cracking CGI alien, this is likely to be your budget range. Again, there is tough competition here. Writers like Aaron Sorkin have made this budget range their own. But it may be possible to break into this market if you have a seriously strong concept and story that attracts star caliber talent or high-level investment. Note that many of these are dramas or dramedies. That’s because it’s tough to get a drama made unless you have a star, or an ex-star that wants to come back. Both of whom can push your low-budget piece up into this category.

LOW BUDGET

Next, we have the low budget world. This is the easiest spot to aim at. Most of these movies have either no SFX, a limited cast, are contained (i.e. they have limited locations, ideally less than 4), or are found footage. This is the world of the TV or family movie, However, it is also notably dominated by the horror genre. Horror has been the proving ground for many directors who went on to be A-listers (Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson) and tends to feature actors who can carry a movie without having the ego or bank account of so-called “stars”. A good horror movie can break box-office records, and studios know this. For instance, Insidious (2011) cost only £1.3 million to make, yet grossed over $55 million. Compare that to infamous flop “John Carter” (2012), which cost $250 million yet has recouped only $75 so far.

MAICRO-BOUDGET!!!!

Finally, we have the weird and wonderful world of the microbudget movie. This can be the kind of thing that premieres on the horror channel (if anywhere), or the kind of megahit that makes an entire career. Again, horror tends to dominate. Paranormal Activity, The Blair Witch Project, and Halloween all became the most profitable independent films ever at one time. However other genres proliferate, such as 1980s sci-fi cult hits like Charles Band’s Trancers. However, it’s pretty safe to say these are flukes.

In reality, the low budget movie seems like a more sensible place to start. However, a word of warning: limiting your ideas to deliver a tiny budget movie may be a mistake. My own movie “Clone Hunter” was written as a big-budget space opera, yet managed to translate into a much lower budget movie. However, I’ve written microbudget movies by shoe-horning my ideas into confined locations without any SFX, and these failed to ignite any interest.

In my opinion, it doesn’t hurt to put your eggs in different baskets. You can always try for a big-budget payoff while honing that indie coming-of-age drama and rattling off that limited location found footage horor movie.

Like everything with writing, it seems there’s no single surefire quick access route to success. Sometimes it’s just a matter of writing what excites you and finding someone who is as passionate about your material as you are. If nobody else shares your vision, move on.

 

 

 

How to Write Hollywood-style action lines — part 1

Today, here are some tips on how to do the above – write action lines like the ones you see in Hollywood screenplays. Style can make or break a script, or turn a great story into a terrible script.

The main aim of all stylistic devices in a screenplay is… to get the reader to read yor script.

That’s it.

So how do you do that?

Create suspense.

Use short sentences.

Make it a vertical reading experience.

See?

 Here are some examples:

The “vertical” style was perhaps most famously used in “Alien”. Here is a sample taken from the revised script by Walther Hill and David Giler, based on the original script by Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett:

“SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE:

INT. ENGINE ROOM

Empty, cavernous.

INT. ENGINE CUBICLE

Circular, jammed with instruments.
All of them idle.
Console chairs for two.
Empty.

INT. OILY CORRIDOR – “C” LEVEL

Long, dark.
Empty.
Turbos throbbing.
No other movement.

INT. CORRIDOR – “A” LEVEL

Long, empty.

INT. INFIRMARY – “A” LEVEL

Distressed ivory walls.
All instrumentation at rest.”

Pretty obvious why it’s called the “vertical” style, right? The aim is to make the reader’s eye naturally flow down the page thus causing him or her to TURN OVER and start reading the next page. Do that enough times and the reader will actually finish your screenplay.

But you don’t need to be so drastic. Back in 1978 that was fresh writing. Nowadays it’s more a throwback. Also, this tends to use up a lot of pages.

Here’s a slightly more modern example, from a draft of “Scream” written by Kevin Williamson:

“FADE IN

ON A RINGING TELEPHONE.

A hand reaches for it, bringing the receiver up to the face of
CASEY BECKER, a young girl, no more than sixteen.  A friendly face
with innocent eyes.

CASEY
Hello.

MAN’S VOICE
(from phone)
Hello.

Silence.

CASEY
Yes.

MAN
Who is this?

CASEY
Who are you trying to reach?

MAN
What number is this?

CASEY
What number are you trying to reach?

MAN
I don’t know.

CASEY
I think you have the wrong number.

MAN
Do I?

CASEY
It happens. Take it easy.

CLICK! She hangs up the phone.  The CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal
Casey in a living room, alone.  She moves from the living room to
the kitchen.  It’s a nice house.  Affluent.

The phone RINGS again.

INT.  KITCHEN

Casey grabs the portable.

CASEY
Hello.

MAN
I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number.

CASEY
So why did you dial it again?

MAN
To apologize.

CASEY
You’re forgiven. Bye now.

MAN
Wait, wait, don’t hang up.

Casey stands in front of a sliding glass door.  It’s pitch black
outside.

CASEY
What?

MAN
I want to talk to you for a second.

CASEY
They’ve got 900 numbers for that. Seeya.

CLICK!  Casey hangs up.  A grin on her face.

EXT.  CASEY’S HOUSE – NIGHT – ESTABLISHING

A big country home with a huge sprawling lawn full of big oak
trees.  It sits alone with no neighbors in sight.

The phone RINGS again.”

This is a nice, flowing style that leads your eye down the page. Notice how the sentences are short. Clipped. And, in some cases, incomplete.

There is also far less detail than you think in these lines. The writers were adept at using minimal words to convey a setting. The reader’s mind fils in the blanks. In fact “Alien” uses only two words to describe a spaceship’s engine room.

So the next time you think about adding a ten-line paragraph to explain that this is a comfortable, well-furnished craftsman-style house that nestles on the edge of town surrounded by sycamore trees with a luxury car parked on the drive outside… think again.

Which brings me to my second tip .

Don’t overdo it.

Some sentences belong together. When you try to force them into a vertical pattern, you actually break the flow and make it more difficult to read down the page. For example, here’s a passage from the script of “The Bourne Identity” by Tony Gilroy, based on the novel by Robert Ludlum:    

INT. FISHING BOAT BUNK ROOM — DAWN — TIME CUTS

Transformed into a makeshift operating room.  A light swings
overhead.  THE MAN layed out across the table.  Sounds —
groans — words — snatches of them — all in different
languages.

GIANCARLO playing doctor in a greasy kitchen apron.  Cutting
away the clothes.  Turning THE MAN on his side.  Two bullet
wounds in the back.  Probing them, judging them.

Now — GIANCARLO with a flashlight in his teeth — TINK —
TINK — TINK — bullet fragments falling into a washed-out
olive jar.

Now — something catching GIANCARLO’S EYE — A SCAR ON THE
MAN’S HIP — another fragment — exacto knife cutting in —
tweezers extracting A SMALL PLASTIC TUBE, not a bullet at
all, and as it comes free —

THE MAN’S HAND SLAMS down onto GIANCARLO’S”…

This is still a pretty vertical read. However it would have been even more vertical to separate each sentence out onto separate lines, like so: 

“Transformed into a makeshift operating room.

A light swings overhead.

THE MAN layed out across the table.

Sounds — groans — words — snatches of them — all in different languages.

GIANCARLO playing doctor in a greasy kitchen apron.

Cutting away the clothes…”

And so on. But does this make it any better? No. Sometimes it’s worse to force the reader to look at a new line. The most important thing is to preserve the flow. I’ve read lots of amateaur screenplays where the writer thought they were doing the reader a favour by splitting lines up in this way. But  it actualy makes it harder to read them.

It’s a judgment call. And the best way to decide is to look at other scripts. There are plenty of them on the Internet these days. Break them down the way you would an Enlgiash Literature exercise.

And that’s exactly what we’ll be doing in Part 2.

See you then!

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug reviewed (or “Not more barrels”).

The Hobbit Part 2: or "how many characters can we fit in a barrel?"

The Hobbit Part 2: or “how many characters can we fit in a barrel?”

This week, here’s a review that shows the perils of big-budget filmmaking from a screenwriting perspective.

WARNING: SPOLIERS AHEAD

Now, I really loved “The Hobbit Part 1”. I mean, I really loved it. Others may have thought it lacked action scenes and spent too long with the unfunny dwarves. However, I loved exactly that. Music is a much-ignored part of filmmaking. But when done correctly, it can elevate a film to something fantastic. Consider Superman the Movie (the Christopher Reeve one, not the emo-Superman of recent years), Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Close Encounters. All had great soundtracks. Coincidentally, all by John Williams. But other composers like John Barry or even Daft Punk have come up with equally good soundtracks. Anyway, I digress. The point is, the Lonely Mountain Song by Neil Finn was my favourite soundtrack piece of 2013.

I also liked the time spent setting up the dwarves. Film is not a video game. These are supposed to be STORIES about CHARACTERS. Not just an endless succession of CGI chase and fight sequences (which become outdated fast. Check out the Matrix Reloaded if you don’t believe me).

So, in short, I loved Part 1. Loved Rhadghast with his rabbit-drawn sled. Loved the goblin king. Great.

Now to “The Hobbit Part 2″…

It began well enough. Through the “magic” of 3D (it wasn’t available in anything else in my cinema), I was transported to, respectively: Bree, Beorn’s cottage (although this lasted slightly less longer than I had hoped), and the caves of Thranduil. Very nice stuff. Even liked Tauriel and Kili (although I’m not sure how a romance between an elf and a dwarf would work in practice).

Then we came to the barrels. And this is, for me, where it all went wrong.

Now, I understand that this is a adventure film. There has to be SOME action, right? So I was along for the ride. Until the laws of physics started to be routinely ignored. Not only that, but it seemed the laws of PLOT LOGIC were ignored as well.

During the barrel riding scene, elves became superhuman. Dwarves also became superhuman. The numbers of barrels magically fluctuated (maybe Gandalf put a spell on them). Dwarves leaped twenty feet out of moving barrels in a fast-flowing river to steal weapons from the hands of Orcs and throw them back with deadly pinpoint accuracy. And having done all this, they arrive at Laketown and complain they haven’t got any weapons… having just slain about two hundred Orcs!

Still, my growing sense of apprehension was only a feeling of dread akin to the knowledge that the Necromancer had returned. So I went along to Laketown, hoping things would improve.

And, for a while, things did. The Necromancer, and his link to the evil eye in LOTR, was a very nice touch. Not in the book, but it made perfect sense within the context of the movies.

Then came Laketown.

Peter Jackson’s LOTR is reknowned for its attention to detail. It is said that there is so much set detail in Rivendell that it can never be captured on camera.

So what went wrong in Laketown? All of a sudden, it felt like I was on a set. Maybe it was the heavy overuse of interiors. But everything looked a little bit fake. The politics of Laketown were also hard to grasp. Stephen Fry’s Mayor seemed to fluctuate between wanting to kill the dwarves and wanting to help them. Nor was it clear what Bard the Bowman’s  status was in Laketown. Anyway, it was here that the Hobbit and I parted company.

Cue, Smaug. Everybody loves a dragon. I am no exception; I’m a sucker for the mythical beasties, ever since seeing Disney’s rather frightening kids’ film “Dragonslayer”.  So when Smaug appeared, I wanted to like him.

Yet, while Bilbo raced for the Arkenstone (which has no magical properties, it appears, so why it was so valuable compared to a mountain of treasure the size of Wales escaped me), we were treated to the least enjoyable action sequence I have yet seen in the whole film series.

Instead of a brisk romp with a dragon, this sequence turned into a half-hour epic. Dwarves managed to survive fifty-foot drops. They leaped across thirty foot-wide gaps. Never again will I doubt dwarven architecture, as a waking dragon can cause an earthquake in Laketown but fail to bring down the roof of a chasm even when all the support beams are shattered.  The dwarves (ingenious creatures worthy of a job at Microsoft) are able to rig up a one-hundred foot molten gold statue in less than a minute.

When said statute suddenly (and inexplicably) explodes in a torrent of molten gold, it had me rolling my eyes and sinking into my seat.

Another example of plot nonsense occurs when Smaug returns to find Bilbo quivering, ready to be eaten and accepting his fate.

“I’ll show you,” says Smaug. “I’ll burn Laketown down, that’ll make you suffer!”

How about eating him? Wouldn’t that make him suffer? But no, Smaug decides to save Bilbo for later (after all, there’s another three hours to go), and burn down Laketown. Which he would do anyway.

Hmm.

Don’t even get me started on how Thorin manages to use a heat-conductive metal shield to float safely on a river of molten gold.

So in conclusion, “The Desolation of Smaug” is definitely a film of two halves. The nice character moments and humour of the first half is undone in the second half by an over-reliance on the same physics-defying and unconvincing CGI we have sene in films like “Indiana Jones 4” (Remember the fridge? That’s worthy of a trope in itself, much like “Jumping the Shark”. Maybe we should have “Riding the fridge”?)

Perhaps it’s the result of so many disciplines being involved in what used to be a proces involving only actors, a director, and a handful of crew. Maybe it’s even due in some way to the input (or lack of input) of Guillermo Del Toro, who apparently departed the production due to delays in filming. It’s anyone’s guess how having such a visionary director leave halfway through affected the outcome. But whatever the cause, it felt like the filmmakers had thrown in their towels after the barrel riding scene.

I don’t know if “The Hobbit” will take its place alongside the “Lord of the Rings” as modern classics. But it seems that in a world where anything can be conjured up using that magical CGI paintbrush, filmmakers need to exercise more restraint. Otherwise they risk suffering the fate of a certain cartoon mouse who also experimented with magic and came undone.

Monsters in the House

Today I’m going to share some secrets with you about how to write in the movie genre called “Monster in the House”.

The late, great Blake Snyder can be credited with bringing this term into popular phraseology amongst screenwriters. Basically it is the kind of movie where there is a Monster… in a House. Geddit? Many horror movies use this genre, but so do many other kinds of film. For example, Blake says in his excellent books “Save the Cat” and “Save the Cat Goes to the Movies”  that the good ol’ Monster in the House includes such films as “Jaws”, “Independence Day”, “Scream”, “Single White Female”, and even “Fatal Attraction”.

So how does this go? Well, put simply, Blake says you must have a Monster, a House, and a Sin committed by one the chartacters that invites the Monster into the House. For example, in “Jaws” it is the Mayor’s refusal to close the beaches, out of fear that it will damage tourism on the island, that invites the great white shark to keep munching on the locals.

 

Birds Film

Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds starring Tippi Hedren. Can you spot the “Monster” and the “House” in this movie? Extra marks if you can remember what the “Sin is, too!

 

Blake’s books include a whole host of other great observations about this genre and others and I encourage you to read them all. However I thought I would apply this to my own latest screenplay while I was working on it. The result was that I may have come up with a definitive “blueprint” for the Monster in the House genre.

This may or may may not make sense without reading Blake’s books. However, you can find some illuminating examples by visiting his wesbite http://www.blakesnyder.com/ and using the free dowloads there.

Anyway, here goes…

 

MONSTER IN THE HOUSE STRUCTURE BLUEPRINT

1. Setup

The House is introduced and described. The Hero’s weakness is also introduced. Don’t forget to Save the Cat!

2. Catalyst

The Sin is committed, ultimately (but not necessarily there and then) inviting the Monster into the House.

3. Debate

Resistance of whatever is the catalyst by the Hero.

4. Break into Act Two/Turning Point # 1

The main conflict with the Monster begins.

5. B Story

The Hero and another character interact.

6. Fun & Games

Hide and Seek with the Monster in the House.

7. Midpoint

Stakes are raised. The Fun is now over. A and B stories cross. Kiss at 60?

8. Bad Guys Close In

Turn, Turn, Turn as one by one the Monster kills off the Hero’s allies and generally makes things harder for them.

9. Rock Bottom

The Sin is finally exposed. The Whiff of Death occurs.

10. Dark Night of the Soul

Despair. Monster appears victorious.

11.Break Into Act Three

The solution!

12. Final Challenge

The Hero combines his weakness with what he has learned during the story to  defeat the Bad Guy (and optionally Save the Cat if not done before).

13. Resolution

Survival, basically.  Optionally you may show how the Hero has overcome his weakness.

 

So there it is. I’d be interested in knowing what anyone else thinks about this. But it seems general enough to apply to pretty much any Monster in the House script.  Next time I may even break down a popular movie into these component parts to see if it does work all the way through. Until then, keep writing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Music is Your Friend…

Do you listen to music while you write?

Sounds like a banal question. But many writers are heavily influenced by music, while others say it helps them to concentrate and focus.

Alan Grant, comics writer of “Batman”, “Judge Dredd”, and many more, says he listens to music for an hour or so each morning before he starts to write. Evidently it gets his creative juices flowing.

Personally, I prefer something instrumental. I won’t bore you with a list of my favourites. Suffice to say, it includes plenty of heavy 1970s electronica and Baroque classical. Anything I can get my hands on that provides ambient background music. Hypnotic white noise helps me to zone in on the page.

Other writers have used music to do more than focus, however. Take Alan Moore. Almost every chapter of “Watchmen” has a musical lyric as its title – a conceit used to brilliant effect in the movie soundtrack. In fact, several of Moore’s stories seem to have been directly inspired by lyrics.

Music can capture your mood. Or it can provide you with tangible inspiration from its lyrics. Just don’t play that Eminem record at full volume on your iPod in the library, or I may have to hit you. Hard. With a book.

So find your muse, find your mood music, and write away…

Why was He-Man so crap?

he-man

Today I am tackling an issue that has been playing on my mind for many years. Several attempts were made in the 1970s and 1980s to fuse fantasy with science-fiction in movies. This is not a new trend, and is generally called “Science Fantasy”. For instance, Edgar Rice Burrough’s John Carter novels are science-fantasy. CS Lewis (of Narnia fame) even wrote a religious allegory sci-fi series known as the “Space” trilogy.  In movies we have 1983’s “Krull”, the notorious flop “John Carter”, and the lilttle-known but half-decent movie “Pathfinder”.

But what does these have in common? Well, they are crap.

That’s not to say we can’t love them. “Krull” has a particular place in my heart, not least for the amazing Freddie Jones and the use of actual British character actors. The CS Lewis novels are great flights of fancy (although totally scientifically incorrect).

But for some reason critical success has mostly eluded these works. There is something about the melding of high fantasy (magic, swords and sandals) with science-fiction (high tech, high concept) that creates works of daftness rather than genius.

Take He-Man.

He-Man has his roots firmly in Robert E Howard’s “Conan” stories. With a technological twist. His home planet Eternia contains magic but also machines and flying vehicles, cyborgs and laser-guns. You would think that such a world would provide great images and great storylines. Instead, it always manged to be childish and rather stupid. Like GI Joe on Magic Mushrooms.

Jitsu - one of Skeletor's less memorable henchmen.

Jitsu – one of Skeletor’s less memorable henchmen.

The animated series was designed to promote Mattell’s line of action figures, whish was apparently created to cash in 1982’s “Conan” movie, but which had to be redesigned when said Arnie movie featured so much nudity and gore that it was rated “R”. However this may be apocryphal.

For He-Man newbies, He-Man was in fact Prince Adam of Eternia. A fact that nobody could discern despite being identical and never wearing a mask. He rode a cowardly beast that transformed into a fiercer version whenever Adam became He-Man (nobody bothered to explain why in a planet where everybody could use flying vehicles Adam settled for riding on the back of his pet cat).

Nothing too unusual there. If we can buy Superman, why not Prince Adam? But unlike other cartoon characters, there was something udneniably dorky about He-Man. Possibly it was his very name. The far more successful cartoon TV show “Dungeons and Dragons” had some genuinely unsettling moments. But He-Man’s greatest foe was… Skeletor.

Ah, Skeletor. Far more likeable than He-Man with your silly plotting and villanous laugh. But the unfortunate bad guy only ever managed to surround himself with complete morons who alway fouled up his schemes. He may have had more success working with the Three Stooges than the likes of Beast-Man, Mer-Man and Lockjaw.

Skeletor - the villain everyone loves to hate... almost.

Skeletor – the villain everyone loves to hate… almost.

Which brings us to the 1987 live-action movie.

In fact, it’s not that bad when watched today through the tinted lenses of nostalgia. Meg Foster is eerie as Evil-Lyn, the plot (albeit a bit silly) is so perfectly “Eighties” that it’s watchable. Frank Langella provides a suitably grave Skeletor. However the plot suffers from two things – cliche and a lack of credible worldbuilding. Lines like “It’s too quiet” grate. Gone is the backdrop of Eternia (struck out for budgetary reasons). And the characters are all pretty stock and one-dimensional.

Perhaps part of the problem is the inherent silliness of the science-fantasy genre, a genre that exists only to draw attention to itself. Science-fantasy stories scream out, “Look how clever I am!”. But in fact they only use cliches from both genres, creating storylines with few surprises  but which also strain our credibility.

Consider “John Carter”. Not only are we supposed to believe  in aliens, life on Mars, teleportation, a second set of aliens, and magic… but a third set of competely different aliens as well. Phew!

So there you have it. He-Man’s crapness is inherent. It both endears us to him and repells us, as it does with many other high-bidget flops. On reflection, I think it’s because using two genres (some may say opposing genres) weakens the depth of storytelling. We are so concerned with the language and imagery of the story, that there is no room left for what audiences desire most… plot twists and great characters.

So my advice is.. avoid the science-fantasy genre altogether. Unless you want to produce a very expensive white elephant.

And I bet you thought I would never get any writing tips out of this post! 😉

What can we learn from “The Conjuring”?

THE CONJURING (2013)

Director James Wan, Writers Chad and Carey Hayes

Stars Patrick Wilson, Vera Farmiga, Lily Taylor

 

NOTE: I’VE TRIED NOT TO INCLUDE ANY SPOILERS, BUT READ ON AT YOUR OWN RISK IF YOU’VE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE.

The biggest hit of 2013 so far must be “The Conjuring”. Delivered on a budget of just $20 million, it has raked in over $120 million so far and is still in theatres.  It charts ahead of much bigger movies such as “Olympus Has Fallen”, “The Hangover Part 2”, “The Wolverine” and of course the infamous “Lone Ranger” movie. So why is it such a smash hit?

I went to see it, expecting it to be over-hyped, and was very pleasantly surprised. Not only is “The Conjuring” a well-made and well-acted movie, it is extremeley scary. This is no exaggeration. “The Conjuring” is definitely the best movie of 2013 so far.

The movie comes on the heels of Director James Wan’s 2010 opus “Insidious”, although you could be forgiven for thinking that 2012’s lookalike “Sinister” was related.

Looking back at “Insidious”, we had another strong performance from character actor/lead man Patrick Wilson (Nite Owl in “Watchmen”). But what was interesting about “Insidious” was the way the movie tried to push the envelope with the horror genre. There were a couple of standout eerie moments. However the picture lapsed into an action/fantasy movie toward the third act, which lessened the effect of the scares.

The plot is simple enough: two psychic detectives (Wilson and Farmiga) take on a haunting in an old house where Taylor and her family (her working joe husband and five young daughters) have just moved in and are experiencing some frightening ghostly goings-on. The uncover a sinister force driving the hauntings, which continue to grow in violence and, what’s worse, seem to react to the couple’s presence in the house.

To an extent, “The Conjuring” is a refinement of Wan’s previous movie. However  this movie opens with a bang (literally) instead of a slow burn. In fact, the movie delivers almost everything up front. From the creepy titles (an oft-ignored aspect of filmmaking) we are plunged into terror. The opening sequence which features a demonic doll is one of the scariest I’ve ever seen. Who knew that dolls could become creepy again after the debacle of “Child’s Play”?

As if that wasn’t enough, Wan and his creative team go on to deliver an expertly crafted series of scares. Each one just as terrifying as the last. The roller-coaster ride (or should that be ghost train?)  is helped by excellent performances, not just from Wilson, but from horror veteran Lilly Taylor, who really outdoes herself in this movie, as well as the ever-off-kilter Vera Farmiga as the other half of the ghostbusting duo.

But what really impresses about “The Conjuring” is the quality of the scares. Each one goes shows us something that has never been seen before. Yes, the ideas themselves have been copied from other stories (the evil doll, the ghostly bangings, demonic possession). There are also notable nods of the head to older classics, such as when Taylor’s husband wakes up to find the TV showing only static, an obvious reference to “Poltergeist”.

But “The Conjuring” goes further. this is not just an evil doll. This is a mightily pissed-off evil doll that sounds like a 300lb giant hammering on the door. The “ghost”, when it does appear, is exceptional. Especially in two memorable scenes, one involving a sleepwalker and a wardrobe, the other involving something as mundane as hanging up washing on a clothesline.

To say that “The Conjuring” copies other movies is like saying “Forbidden Planet” is ajust a copy of “The Tempest”. This is a bravura piece of horror filmmaking that is sure to establish Wan for years to come as a horror great.

The lesson? Go farther.

A good example of another ghost story which pushes the envelope is 2001’s Japanese movie “Pulse” (forget the remake) which goes from eerie hauntings involving the Internet to an apocalyptic third act.

It is true that the movie runs out of steam to an extent in the third act, where it changes pace and tone becoming more of an action movie spliced in with a demonic possession movie. As a result, the scares diminish. The character development is pretty sketchy also, but is just enough to add some depth to a very plot-driven movie. “The Conjuring” is definitely at its best for the other two thirds. But what a two thirds they are!

Audiences love to be surprised, and I was. The scares are not your everyday jump-out-and-scream variety. nor is there the reprehensible “torture-porn” of recent “hits”. Instead, “The Conjuring” is a creepy and frightening horror movie.

Go see it!