John August

QandA

When two characters are played by the same actor

Formatting, Projects, QandA, The Nines, Words on the page

questionmarkIf a main part of a plot is that two characters look identical (but are not related…think the movie “Dave”), where/how in the script do I say they should be played by the same actor?

— Jeremy Kerr

As a general screenwriting rule, if it would be obvious to the viewer, make it obvious to the reader. Immediately after introducing the second character, include a hard-to-miss note explaining that the two characters are played by one actor.

PROFESSOR DONALD SCOTT isn’t your classic tweedy bookworm. With a short temper and a strong right hook, he’s more likely to settle arguments in back alleys than lecture halls.

[NOTE: Donald Scott and Thom Penn aren’t twins, but are played by the same actor -- for reasons that will soon become clear.]

In the case of The Nines, a huge conceit was that the nine principal roles were played by three actors. I added a note just after the title page, so there was no chance a reader would miss it:

nines note

How to leave an agent

Film Industry, QandA

questionmarkI currently have a lit agent and a manager, both from boutique companies. I’ve been with them both for about three years. I like them a lot personally, but as I look back over the years, they have not produced a lot of results.

I have a feature script that won two writing competitions (one major), a drama serial pilot and a drama procedural pilot and am currently working on a thriller. The feature was optioned for a year, but nothing came of it. It’s about to be optioned again, both are for very little money from very small companies.

But they never seem to send my stuff out. I’ve only had one meeting of significance in the past three years that my agent got for me. Not one from my manager.

They are always very circumspect about exactly WHO is reading my material. And I always get the impression it’s because they are not sending it out. They say they love my writing, so why do they sit on it?

I think perhaps their strengths as representatives might not fit what I am writing. Their contacts and relationships aren’t of much value to me. But would they ever admit that?

If I decide to move on from one or both, what is the protocol?

In this climate, I’d rather not drop one of them before I have new representation. But it feels like bad form to give my material to people on the sly without them knowing, to see if there’s interest. But if I drop them before I know there’s interest, and I have trouble…I would have been better off keeping them and trying to work on it.

I feel like I’m stuck. Any advice?

— Raymond
Hermosa Beach

At this stage in your fledgling career, the job of both your agent and your manager is to put your work in the hands of people who might like it, then get you into rooms to meet with them. They can’t get you a job, or guarantee a sale. All they can do is help you make connections.

And they’re not doing it. So it’s time to change.

For readers new to this, a boutique agency is one with a relatively small group of agents and clients. Boutiques can be great, especially for writers and filmmakers with a very distinct sensibility that requires more careful positioning. ((In trying to think of examples of quirky filmmakers, I looked up Harmony Korine and Todd Solondz. It turns out they’re both at a giant agency, WME. But I stand by my general case.)) Because of the small size, you’re not going to be competing with your own agency’s clients for jobs. The downside is that a boutique agency isn’t going to have all the resources and information that a major agency would have.

My first agent was at a boutique; his name was on the door. He sent me out on dozens of meetings with the right level of junior executives — including Dan Jinks, who would ultimately produce Big Fish and The Nines. Everyone I met with loved my agent. My first two writing assignments were landed through my own contacts, but he made the deals and stood up for me. He was a good agent.

Unfortunately, our tastes didn’t really jibe. I wanted to write big Hollywood movies, while most of his clients worked on the (admittedly fascinating) periphery. Reading an early draft of Go, he didn’t see it as a movie. And I knew it was time to go.

It’s time to see other people
=====

Leaving an agent is breaking up. You’re telling someone who has been a friend and colleague that you believe someone else could do the job better. It’s going to hurt. Rip the Band-Aid off and deal with the sting.

Since you have both an agent and a manager, pick the one you think is the better fit and talk to him about your frustrations. If he has a list of ideas, consider them. If he tells you to keep things how they are, well, you need to leave him, too. It’s not working. Sticking around isn’t going to improve it.

Now is also the time to talk with trusted friends and colleagues about where you should go. The producers who just optioned your script may have opinions and recommendations. They might make some phone calls on your behalf.

Write something new and great
=====

You’ll be in a better position to sign a new agent or manager if you have something new to put in their hands. They’ll want to send out material no one has seen, so the thriller might be the thing. It needs to be great, better than the script that won you the awards.

Agents want clients who work. That’s why **the biggest change shouldn’t be who is representing you, but how you’re representing yourself.** As you take meetings, make them understand that you will work your ass off to land assignments, then work five times harder to deliver. Say it and mean it. Novelists can be hermetic artistes. Screenwriters have to be hunters, hucksters and hostage negotiators.

You don’t necessarily need to be at a bigger agency, though they’re often better equipped to handle both the TV and feature sides of your career. You’re wise to pursue both at full speed, by the way. Many writers ping-pong back and forth between the mediums.

Your question illustrates why most aspiring writers’ perception of the industry — *if I could only get an agent, then…* — is so naïve. Even with an agent, a manager and some acclaim, you’ve had a tough time moving from a spark of potential to an actual career.

Switching to new representation will only be an incremental improvement. The hard work will be capitalizing on their enthusiasm to make connections, set up projects, and write movies that get made.

(cont’d) vs. CONTINUOUS

Formatting, QandA

Via [Twitter](http://twitter.com/johnaugust), I got a question about the variations on “continued” you often see in screenplays.

The first form, a contraction of the word, is widely used to indicate that the same character is speaking after an interrupting bit of scene description. Almost every screenplay you read will have it.

MARY

What’s wrong? Why are you smiling like that?

TOM

No reason.

Under the table, the dog begins licking the arch of Tom’s foot.

TOM (CONT’D)

Do you need any h-h-h-help with dessert?

Most screenwriting software will automatically generate the (cont’d), and you should let it. It’s standard, and particularly useful for actors. It’s your choice whether to have it be uppercase; (cont’d) or (CONT’D) are both fine. Pick one and stick to it. ((You may run into situations in which a character is both speaking and giving voice-over in a scene. Your software might try to flag those voiceovers as continuations of the character’s normal dialogue. Don’t let it.))

A related situation happens when a block of dialogue needs to extend off the bottom of the page. Screenwriting software will offer to put a (more), with a matching (cont’d) on the next page. Let it — though you might also consider tweaking the lines so that the dialogue doesn’t break there.

A second form of continued happens when a scene spans across multiple pages. If a scene continues off the bottom of a page, most screenwriting software will offer to put CONTINUED: at the top left of the next page, next to the scene number.

  A134 CONTINUED:

EDWARD

I have been nothing but myself since the day I was born. And if you can’t see that, it’s your failing, not mine.

You don’t need it. Turn it off.

The only time to use these continueds is when you’re headed into production, complete with a shooting schedule and scene numbers. They help reduce confusion when you have colored revision pages. Beyond that, they’re clutter. Get rid of them.

The final form of continued happens in scene headings. Some screenwriters use CONTINUOUS to indicate that action is ongoing despite changes of location:

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Mary searches for Rex, checking under the bed.

INT. BASEMENT – CONTINUOUS

Tom WHISTLES, shaking Rex’s favorite toy.

I’m not a big fan of this use of continuous, because it’s all too easy to forget what time of day it’s supposed to be. In the (rare) cases in which I need to clarify that the action from one scene to the next is continuous, I put it in brackets.

EXT. BACKYARD – NIGHT [CONTINUOUS]

Rex digs his way under the fence.

How to logline a dual-plot story

Big Fish, Go, Projects, QandA, Story and Plot

questionmarkWhat is the best way to write a short logline for a screenplay with dual storylines, especially if both storylines are crucial to the telling of the story?

I feel like scripts with multiple storylines (3+ stories) like Pulp Fiction or Crash can rely on simple loglines that get across the overall theme of the story. But what about scripts with two distinct storylines that parallel one another…do you pack both storylines into the logline? Or do you pick one and focus the on it?

— Mac
Los Angeles

Some movies are really difficult to logline. Go is one. When forced to give a short description, I try to chart the three main threads: “It’s about a really tiny drug deal, a wild night in Vegas and two soap opera actors — all of which cross paths at LA’s underground rave scene.”

Again, not great. But it gets the job done.

For something like Big Fish, I make the parallel structure clear: “It’s the story of a man’s life, told the way he remembers it: full of wild, impossible exaggerations. At the same time, his grown son is trying to separate the truth from the fantasy before his dad dies.”

Julie and Julia has dual storylines, yet summarizes easily: “It’s the story of a young woman determined to cook her way through Julia Child’s famous cookbook, intercut with the adventures of Julia Child’s life.”

If both plotlines are key to your story, you need to make that clear in the logline. Otherwise, you risk future readers feeling like you bait-and-switched them.