John August

John

Script, story, screenplay

QandA

questionmarkWhat is the difference between a script, story and screenplay? How “developed” (stage wise) are they in comparison to each other?

–Hemant

answer icon“Scripts” and “screenplays” are interchangeable when it comes to feature films, but television scripts are always called scripts. (Except when they’re called teleplays, which is only in certain on-screen credits.)

“Story” is more or less what it sounds like: the plot, the characters, the settings and tone. It differs from a script or screenplay only in that the dialog often isn’t written out, and the overall action may be somewhat compressed. A writer might be credited with the “story” for a movie, but not the “screenplay,” if he wrote a treatment but not the final script. Usually, if one writer handles both “story” and “screenplay,” he/she receives a more general “written by” credit.

Got the story, but I can’t write

QandA, Treatments

Is it possible to sell a "story," "treatment," or "outline" instead
of the full script? I see separate story & screenplay credits on films
all the time. I’ve got some great ideas, but have no screenwriting skills and
I believe they would make great films. What can I do?

–Edward Brock

The "story" and "screenplay" credits you see on movies
are actually determined by the Writers Guild after the movie is finished, and
don’t necessarily mean that one person wrote a treatment and someone else wrote
the script. Often a person getting story credit did write a script, but a later
writer changed so much that only the essence of the story remained, thus reducing
the credit. (For the record, "Written by" means the writer receives
both "story" and "screenplay" credit. The rules are so
complicated and contentious I recommend you don’t even think about it unless
you’re lucky enough to get a studio movie produced.)

In Hollywood, a person with a great idea and no writing talent is called a
producer. Or a studio executive. Or a bag boy at Ralphs.

I’m being glib, but it’s true. Treatments or pitches from non-writers rarely
go anywhere. What can and does happen is that a person with a great idea pairs
up with a real writer and either (a) decides to work on it together, or (b)
somehow convinces a third party to pay the writer to write it. This is how
studios develop movies "in-house," and how a lot of producers function.

My advice? Find a writer. If there’s a known writer who’s perfect for it,
hunt her down through her agent. Or find someone who’s written a really good
script, maybe out of a screenwriting program, and convince them to do it. It
won’t be easy, but that’s how to do it.

Are characters based on people you know?

Go, QandA

As a writer, do you worry about everyone in your life thinking characters
are based on them?

–Dari

Surprisingly, the issue almost never comes up. I guess that means either,
(a) everyone in my life has already accepted that something they say or do
might someday end up on screen, or (b) they’re angry and repressing their rage.

A writer is inevitably going to borrow ideas from real life, both consciously
and unconsciously. With me, it’s dialogue. I’ll hear somebody say something
perfect and immediately jot it down on one of a hundred tiny slips of paper.
(Probably half of the time, I’ve actually misheard what they said, the same
way song lyrics seem much more poetic when you can’t quite make them out.)

But I’m pretty careful to never completely base a character on somebody I
know, especially not a close friend or family member. It’s just not worth the
potential grief.

Of the scripts I’ve written, GO was closest to using actual true people and
events. Tiny (played by Breckin Meyer) was inspired by Anthony Satariano, the
sports editor of my high school paper, who was a white kid talking black way
back in 1988. The food poisoning from shrimp at a Las Vegas buffet happened
to my friend Wende in 1993, while the hotel room fire is a possibly apocryphal
story related to me by my friend Tom
Smith. (No, it didn’t happen to him.)

It’s worth noting that of all these incidents, the only one I asked permission
to use was Tom’s, probably because he’s a writer himself, and might have been
saving it for one of his own projects. He was gracious enough to let me have
it.

Another factor which reduces the "Is-That-Based-On-Me?" tension
is that a lot of the projects I work on already have some form of source material,
be it a book, a TV show or whatnot. For example, my screenplay for BIG FISH
involves a lot of my experience watching my father die, and my frustration
at trying to get to know him. But the fact that it’s ultimately based on Daniel
Wallace’s book makes it easier for my family and everyone else to get some
emotional distance, and differentiate the movie-dad from my actual dad.

Theory #2

QandA, Story and Plot

This week’s column continues a lengthy answer to a question
posed earlier, namely…
Why does it seem that there are maybe 6 templates for Hollywood movies? As
a writer you pick one of those, fill in the check boxes, and poof the next
movie of the week. Is it because of the money to be made, or a lack of talented
writers getting their scripts to the right people, or is it due to producers
and directors not getting the ‘picture’, or is it because those mentioned above
don’t really give a rats butt about the people going out to see a movie?

–Niall

In a previous column, I talked about why so many movies seem to have the same
overall "shape," which
I postulate comes mostly from the limited number of outcomes any storyline
can have. In a romantic comedy, either the couple ends up together or they
don’t. Whatever the details, one of those two results is going to happen.

Of course, it’s the details that make a story unique and interesting. Even
with just two possible outcomes, there are a million different romantic comedies
you could write. So the real question is…
Why does Hollywood keep making the same damn movies?

Theory 2: Audiences Want Hamburger

Right from the start, I’ll have to admit to some strong personal biases in
this theory. I wrote and produced GO, which certainly wasn’t to everyone’s
taste,
but was at least different than every other youth-centered comedy on the market.
There was no high school, no prom, no parents, no awkward girl who’s really
pretty when she takes her glasses off. We got good reviews and great test audience
scores.

But when the dust settled and the box office receipts came in, it turned out
people wanted the prom. GO made money, but not nearly as much as NEVER BEEN
KISSED, VARSITY BLUES, SHE’S ALL THAT, or 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU. The problem
wasn’t the
marketing, the problem was the movie itself.

We were offering taboulleh, but the audience wanted hamburger.
Deep down, I think the movie-going public wanted to see the white, middle-class
suburban fairy tale they’d seen a hundred times before. Our movie was a gritty
$7 million comedy with drugs and guns, and the presence of young attractive
stars wasn’t going to change that.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make difficult, challenging, rewarding movies.
You should. But you shouldn’t delude yourself into thinking they’re crowd-pleasing
populist entertainment when they’re not.

So how do we get Hollywood to make more good, original, groundbreaking films
and fewer by-the-numbers retreads? A few ways:

First and foremost, we need to support the quality movies that are made, which
means buying tickets and dragging your friends to see them. Around December,
there’s always a few "vitamin" movies, films that you’re told to
see because they’re good for you. But it’s just as important to rally behind
the groundbreaking action movies, comedies and genre pieces so Hollywood can
see
that quality counts.

Second, film critics play a crucial role in shaping the overall direction
of movies. By championing new talents like Quentin Tarantino, P.T. Anderson
or Darren Aronofsky, they legitimize these filmmakers in the eyes of the studios,
who become more willing to take a chance on one of their movies.

Finally, the rise of independent film and diminishing barriers to production
(i.e. shooting on videotape, or distributing via the Internet) allow new stories
to be told, and new voices to be heard. Most of these movies end up being horrible,
but that they can exist at all is cause for celebration. By not having to appeal
to all tastes, smaller movies can offer something besides hamburger.