• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

John August

  • Arlo Finch
  • Scriptnotes
  • Library
  • Store
  • About

Search Results for: protagonist

Scriptnotes, Episode 730: A Frank Conversation About Screenwriting, Transcript

April 23, 2026 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hello and welcome. My name is John August and this is episode 730 of Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

This week, Craig and I are still both off on our adventures, but fingers crossed we should be back in person with a normal episode next week. Today I’m here with producer Drew Marquardt. Hey, Drew.

Drew Marquardt: Hey, John.

John: I also haven’t seen you for a bit either because I’ve been in negotiations with the Writers Guild and then on vacation before that, so it is nice to see your face again.

Drew: It’s really good to see you too. I’m excited for this episode too.

John: This episode reminds me of, you know that feeling where you haven’t been to the grocery store in a while and so you open the fridge and you’re like, “What can I actually eat in here?”

Drew: Yes.

John: That’s the feeling today because we were trying to assemble a meal from leftovers. Sometimes those turn out really tasty.

Drew: Oh, those leftover sandwiches that are just weird things that you don’t think go together, but they’re great.

John: Looking through the big folder, a thing which we had in that folder was this interview I did with the Northwest Screenwriters Guild. This was an event to promote the Scriptnotes book and do a Q&A with their members. It ended up being really great.

The Northwest Screenwriters Guild, we should say, isn’t a union, but rather a screenwriting community based out of the Pacific Northwest. It was just me. Craig wasn’t able to join for that one. What I remember about it is it started out as a standard promotional stop, but actually became a really good conversation about process and career. We asked them and they said yes, that we could take the audio from that and share it with our listeners.

Drew: I feel like I’ve heard you talk about the Scriptnotes book and tell your career story 4 billion times at this point. This is the first time I felt like I heard new things and really frank things. It was really exciting to listen to.

John: There were a lot of good questions, and so we’re putting this in here. It’s a little bit of a strange episode because it’s just people asking me questions, but it is about the thing that Scriptnotes is about, which is screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters. It was also a good reminder that there’s folks out there for whom all of this is new, and they’re asking these questions for the first time. I enjoyed this conversation. Hopefully, you’ll still learn something new even if you listened to 729 episodes of Scriptnotes. Then we’re back at the end for a boilerplate and wrap up.

In our bonus segment for premium members, I want to talk about sketch comedy writing because one of the real joys of being on the negotiating committee for the Writers Guild is we get a chance to talk with members who work across all sorts of different fields. Especially, we get a lot of writers from the East who work in sketch comedy and work right for shows like Last Week Tonight or the other big late night shows, SNL.

I had a great conversation over lunch with them about sketch comedy writing. I want to have them on the show to actually talk about it. I want to have a chat with you, Drew, about just the nature of sketch and, again, a segment of John didn’t know about how the process works and what the lingo is behind sketch comedy.

Drew: I’m into it.

John: Cool. Enjoy this conversation with the Northwest Screenwriters Guild. We’re back at the end and we’ll be back with a normal episode next week.

[music]

Mike Johnston: Hi. I’m Mike Johnston. I’m the vice president of the Northwest Screenwriters Guild, someone absolutely no one wants to listen to, so let me introduce our very special guest tonight so he can talk, the co-host of the podcast Scriptnotes, Mr. John August. Welcome, sir.

John: Hello. It’s really nice to be here.

Mike: Great.

John: I usually say hello and welcome. That’s my default greeting on Scriptnotes, but it’s nice to see a bunch of either faces or list names in boxes here for this. Mike, Lynelle, Scott, thank you so much for having me here at the Northwest Screenwriters Guild. I think what you’re setting up to do here is a lot of why I got involved in answering questions about screenwriting. I grew up in Boulder, Colorado, was a journalism major in Iowa, and it wasn’t until I was in college that I actually found out there was such a thing as screenwriting. Everyone on the Zoom is ahead of where I was at.

When I was first finding out that there was such a thing called screenwriting, the only opportunity I had to read scripts was books would sometimes publish the screenplay that went with a movie. The first thing I read was Steven Soderbergh had a script for Sex, Lies, and Videotape along with a production diary. I was able to read through that and say, “Oh my gosh, this is everything they’re saying in the movie.” I was watching the videotape. Everything they’re saying in the movie is written down there on paper beforehand. It seems so obvious because we’ve all grown up reading plays in high school.

Of course, a movie is like a play, but with more stuff in it. I just didn’t know it until I actually saw it and read it for the first time. In discovering that there was such a thing as a screenplay and someone had to write that screenplay, I was like, “That’s a job I think I want to do.” I went to the library because this is pre-internet, and read as much as I could. I found out there were film programs.

I went to a summer program at Stanford where I learned the basics of shooting film and a little bit about cinematic storytelling. Then I applied to and got into USC for film school. For grad school, I did a two-year producing program. That’s where I read a thousand scripts and really got to understand what screenwriting was and how it worked.

I always remembered what it was like not to know these things. As the internet came up, IMDb asked me to write a weekly column about screenwriting. I was answering listener questions about screenwriting. I read a question about screenwriting. I started my own blog where I answered more of those questions and talked about what it was I was doing. Then almost 15 years ago, I started a podcast with Craig Mazin about screenwriting, and that was Scriptnotes.

Our imagined listener is the person who, maybe they’re working in the industry, but maybe they’re just the kid I was in Iowa who wants to know about screenwriting and wants to have good information about it. Since there weren’t other online communities for it, we were just trying to provide that answer for people with those questions and really talk about what the experience was like. For 15 years, we had a weekly podcast about it, talking everything from the craft to the business. That’s the instinct behind Scriptnotes, the book, the podcast, and why I like to talk to people online about what screenwriting is like.

Mike: Absolutely. I stopped screenwriting because the feedback I was getting, it was all these rules. Then I discovered your podcast. I’m like, “These guys get it.” It’s been a whole summer. I went back to the earliest episode I could get. I can easily say that I have listened to every single one of your podcasts.

John: Holy cow.

Mike: I highly recommend.

John: 714 or so episodes of Scriptnotes to listen to, plus some bonus segments along the way. It’s good you talk about the rules of screenwriting because one of the things when we set out to write a screenwriting book is that every book of screenwriting is basically, “Here are the rules, and follow these rules, and you will write a good screenplay.” We felt like we had to start with an introductory chapter that was just like, “Here are the rules of screenwriting. We came down to 20. I’ll just read you this 20, and then I’ll tell you why they’re all bullshit. These are the kind of rules you’re going to see all the time.

Your script must be 120 pages or fewer, 12-point career only. The inciting incident must happen by page 15. The first act break must be by page 30. The midpoint is really important. The second act break must be on page 90. No scene can be longer than three pages. You can only use day or night in scene headings. Never use cut to. It’s unnecessary filler. No camera directions unless you’re also the director. Don’t use “we see” or “we hear.” Use uppercase only for sound effects and character introductions.

No bold, italics, or asterisks. No punctuation in parentheticals. Don’t make asides to the reader in actual descriptions. If it can’t be seen or heard, cut it. Don’t use the words “is” or “walks.” Don’t use passive voice. No adverbs ending in -ly. No -ing verbs. No VoiceOver. Those are the 20. Those are the kinds of things we kept being forced at us as we were starting off as screenwriters.

These were like the shibboleths, like “Don’t do these things.” The truth is in reading good screenplays, you will find all these things in abundance. You’ll find a bunch of different ways and styles that writers write. There’s conventions, but there really aren’t rules to screenwriting. There’s just a way of conjuring the experience of watching a movie just with the words on the page. That’s all screenwriting is, but it’s a lot. That’s why it’s been 15 years of podcasting and a book.

Mike: Absolutely. Of all the guests that you have in there, writers, directors, who would you say was the best on theme?

John: On theme. I’m going to define theme loosely as the underlying thing about what a movie is really about and that it’s not about the plot. What is the question, the dramatic question that it’s trying to answer? Listen, Christopher Nolan was a fantasy guest. We were excited to have him on board, have him coming onto the podcast.

It was really interesting seeing his approach to writing something like Oppenheimer, which is basically, he had to do just a lot of digging to figure out what did the movie mean to him? What was it about Oppenheimer’s life that was so fascinating that he could key into that to keep coming back to? For him, it was sometimes really imagery to keep coming back to in the movie in terms of his discovery process that got us back into it.

Greta Gerwig talking about Lady Bird and what it meant to be a young woman who is both rebelling and also finding her place, and In Little Women, how she approached this book that she knew so deeply and so intimately, but she knew she needed to explore it differently on screen. Those are the kind of conversations that were so exciting to me to talk through.

Yes, on theme because you need to know what the movie is really about before you start writing it, but sometimes it’s also a discovery process. You write a draft and then you read it and other people read it and realize, “Oh, I thought it was about this, but it’s actually about that.” That becomes the unifying goal for the next draft.

Mike: Thank you. Was there a section that you wish you had more pages on structure, outlining, rewriting? Was there a section you really wanted to expand?

John: Yes. The initial draft of the book was 600 pages, and we were committed to 300 pages, so we bargained our way up to 333. One of the chapters that didn’t make the cut was called Getting Stuff Written. It was really about the process and procrastination and all the psychology of what it takes to actually get words on the paper. What I’m proud about with the chapter is that we were able to balance that.

Sometimes you need tough love and sometimes you need self-care. We talk you through what is the balance and how are you productive but not self-destructive? How are you finding ways to make writing rewarding and not just an absolute exhausting chore? That’s a chapter I’m really happy with.

Mike: Thank you. When you went through this whole process, did you find your opinions maybe evolved over time, and what might those be?

John: I think our opinions over the 15 years of listening to the podcast, some stuff has progressed. An example would be, I think 15 years ago, I believed in meritocracy more than I do now. I believed that, oh, if you’re a really good writer, it will work out and people will notice you and things will happen. I’ve just seen so often really great writers who the dots just don’t connect. I think I’m much more aware that there’s other factors that play there and some variables you can predict and some variables you can’t predict. That’s an example of how I’ve evolved over time.

I think it’s only because of talking with a bunch of other writers and, honestly, a bunch of listeners who are facing real challenges. I also think I had a very US bias in terms of screenwriting. I think I’m much more aware of the fact, if I’m answering a question, that the question might pertain to the US film and TV industry, but other industries just work a lot differently.

Even though the fundamentals of craft are going to be universal across all experiences, any answer I’m giving about the business itself is very going to be US-based, because that’s just the world I know. I also know very much a Hollywood world. I’ve done a lot of work with Sundance Institute and some other independent films, but I’m always surprised about hometown filmmaking that sometimes can be great and this was outside of my wheelhouse. I think I’m much more aware of the stuff I don’t know now. I’m very capable of saying, “but I don’t know, and there’s other good answers out there.”

Mike: Sure. Speaking of the business, a lot of people assume I write a great script, I get an agent, and then people pay me to write scripts for them. What’s the reality of what you do as a successful professional screenwriter? What’s your day like? What’s the stuff you’re doing besides screenwriting? How much hustle do you need to be a screenwriter?

John: I think that’s a great day to be asking that question because the episode we just put out today is by the two writers of KPop Demon Hunters, who are recent college graduates. There’s the prototype of just like, “I came out of college with a film degree and I hustled really hard and I made it and now I’m still working.” It’s good if you’re someone who’s in that cohort.

Great lessons in terms of just they made the most of their ramen days where they were broke and they just knew they were broke and that’s okay and they were scrambling. They were saying yes to everything they possibly could. They just worked and worked and worked and worked. They’re a great example of that kind of very classic story, which is that eventually people start passing around your scripts without you knowing they’re passing them around, and suddenly the heat just builds and it’s great. They made a lot of opportunities for themselves. They took advantage of it. That’s not universal.

There’s people who are entering into the business, switching from a different career, they’re coming in later, they’re doing different things. In those situations, there’s no one with classic way that it happens. I was talking to a guy at the Austin Film Festival who realized that he got tired of trying to pitch on things. It’s like, “I’m just going to write everything as a spec and I’m going to just sell specs.” He sold three comedy specs over the course of 18 months and got started and got things going. That does still happen.

I think my frustration has always been, even before I started the podcast, is there’s a lottery ticket mentality sometimes with screenwriting. It’s like, “I’m going to write this thing and they’re going to buy it for $1 million and then I’ll be set and then I’ll be working constantly.” That’s just not the experience. It’s amazing if you have a first sale, but more importantly is that you write something that people want to hire you to write other things because that’s the sustainable way that you keep going in this business for most writers.

Mike: You also mentioned pitches. I’m hearing and reading more pitches are getting bought. Is that something that entry-level people can take advantage of or is that really for established writers?

John: I think it can happen across the gamut. Listen, I think pitches are a good bellwether that there’s the businesses picking up some, which is great, and that people are excited to start developing new stuff and get things going. There are ideas that are very pitchable. There are ideas that you can see, like, “Oh, I get why that is a movie. I can see what the trailer would be for that. I can understand what the concept is there.” If you’re writing a thing that’s like that, then being able to pitch it is really important.

Is it a little tougher to get in the door to do that pitch if no one knows who the hell you are? Yes. Yet every day there’s examples of people who do that. That pitch might get you in to meet with a manager or to meet with other people. Again, they’re excited to hear the idea, but they’re only excited if the idea is matched with samples that they’re excited to read. Very few of these pitches are selling from people no one knows who didn’t also read a really great screenplay. It ultimately comes down to that.

Again, this episode that was dropped with the KPop Demon Hunters’ writers, they had a good, funny script. With that good, funny script, they could get in and pitch on KPop Demon Hunters. They weren’t just taking a random person off the street and hoping that they could do it.

Mike: Sure. You gave me a piece of advice once.

John: Oh, great.

Mike: It really stuck with me. I was hoping you could expand upon it. Getting notes is just part of the business. You told me, when I asked about getting notes, you said, “Everybody has an agenda.” Could you expand on that?

John: Absolutely. There’s actually a whole chapter we did expand on it in the book called Notes on Notes. There’s a whole bunch of stuff that’s just like the Mike Johnson perfect pitch for that. Whenever you get a note about a script, keep in mind that the note has an intention behind it. There’s something that was not working for the reader, and they wanted to let you know about it. Honor that. That’s great. It’s good that they’re giving you the note. Hear that they had an issue. Don’t take their solution as the solution.

If something isn’t working for them, your job is to figure out what it actually is. Sometimes they’re saying, “Oh, it’s this thing on page 15,” but is it really about the thing on page 15, or is it something that actually happened on page 12 that was knocking them off the track? Your job is to figure out what that is. Thank them for the note, and then see if you can explore and figure out what’s actually really happening there behind the note.

Some notes you just disagree with, or sometimes the person is not reading the same movie that you’re intending to make. You can have a good conversation where you can figure out what movie it is that they think they want to make. If they’re not the decision-maker, they’re not the person who’s writing the check, you don’t have to do their note.

If you get a consistent note, though, from several people, it’s especially worth paying attention to because something is not clicking right about the script. They’re not seeing the same movie that you’re seeing. That’s a good sign to dig in and figure out, is there a movie that matches their expectation that also meets what you are setting out to do?

Mike: Sometimes it comes out as a feedback. There’s three different pieces of feedback, and it’s all the same underlying problem.

John: Exactly.

Mike: They don’t know what it is, but they see the effect it’s having on your story.

John: Especially if you get notes like, “I got a little bored here. I got lost. I didn’t know what I was doing here. I found this repetitive,” those are signs that something before that was just not working right. You didn’t click and engage with them right because you’ll find that viewers and listeners and readers will forgive you a lot if they’re engaged and curious, but if you lose that engagement and that curiosity, they may keep flipping pages, but they’re not really reading it.

Mike: Sure. On the craft itself, think about earlier in your career: Go, Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory; you’ve worked on a lot of stuff for a very long time. What are some lessons you wish you had learned earlier in your career?

John: This is probably not as much a craft thing as a business thing, but I’m really happy with the movies I’ve gotten made. Love them to death. There are a lot of movies that I did just as much work on that didn’t get made. Some of the frustration I feel is that there’s a whole bunch of my work and the movies I wrote in my head that don’t exist out there. I think some of that is my own fault because I made some bad choices.

I think I chased and pursued some projects that were interesting but weren’t really my passion. Sometimes they were paydays, but sometimes they were a chance to improve myself in certain ways. I know I wish I would have spent a little more time focusing on writing the things that I could do myself, that I could direct myself, that were very specific and that only I could do.

I think in some cases, I was writing movies that lots of people could have done, and I was happy to do it, but it wasn’t my calling in life to do it. Big Fish was a movie that I feel like only I could have done. It was very specific to my experience. I got to do the Broadway musical version of Big Fish, which was, again, very true to my experience and took 15 years of my life. It was a lot.

I don’t regret that, but there’s other small projects along the way, including some that made that were not the best use of my words and my time and my attention. That’s a thing as a professional writer, but even as someone on Zoom who’s an aspiring writer who’s aspiring to become a professional writer, think about what movie you most want to see exist in the world, and that’s the one you should be focusing your time and your attention on, not just the one you think like, “I could sell it maybe.” It’s not going to be good for you.

Mike: I have a couple of those. [laughs] I could describe your writing style because I’ve read your screenplays. It’s just clean, Hemingway-esque, short, muscular sentences, but voice. How would you describe your voice? I think a lot of writers struggle with what a voice is, so how would you describe yours?

John: It’s friendly. It’s not crazy, smart, intellectual. I want it to feel like I’m sitting right next to you in the theater watching it on a screen. That’s what I want it to feel like. If I say we see and we hear, that’s because I’m right there with you and this is what we’re watching together, and so we’re on this ride together. I’m never going to refer to the second person. I’m not going to say you see this, but we do this thing as an audience together. We see and feel this thing. It’s warm. It’s not especially cold and clinical.

I can go back to scripts I wrote to see if I could 10 years ago, 20 years ago, and I will have forgotten every single thing about it, but it will still read like me. Essentially, you do develop a voice at a certain point. There’s a fingerprint to it, and it does feel like me. The thing I was writing this afternoon versus 15 years ago, they’re very similar in terms of the words I’m choosing and what it looks like on the page. You develop a style.

I should say, if you want to read any of my stuff, at my website, johnaugust.com, there’s a library there. Basically, everything I’ve written, all the scripts I’ve written are there. If you’re curious to read Big Fish or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or any of those things, that’s there.

Mike: Are you an outliner or right-by-the-seat-of-you-pants kind of guy?

John: Classically, I’m more of the pantser. I’m more figuring stuff out as I go and feeling my way through it. I do have a sense of what the overall shape of the story is, but I will write whatever scene is appealing to me right in the day. I’ll write out a sequence. I’ll do all that kind of stuff. Increasingly, I’ve been doing stuff where I’ve had to turn in an outline first, sometimes in animation or other projects. I resented it, but it is really handy when I can say, “Oh, actually, the story problems are solved, and now it’s just about the scene work.” I do appreciate that.

This project I’m working on right now, I turned in a 45-page outline. At that level, you really do know the story. There’s no mysteries. It was required stuff for this project, but it was really nice to be able to have conversations with the studio. They knew exactly what movie I was writing and so when I delivered them that movie, they weren’t surprised. They weren’t shocked. It was just a better version of what they had in the outline, and that felt good.

Mike: You’ve done original features, adaptations, big budget films. Is there crossovers or certain tips that you could give us on working with those different types of stories?

John: I do a lot of adaptations. Crucially, an adaptation, the idea is coming from someplace else, but it has to be a movie first and foremost. You really have to look at what does this story want to look like on a screen. That can mean radical transformation of the underlying narrative to make it fit in that two-hour block and with just what an audience approaches with expectation for a movie.

Big Fish is a collection of tiny little short stories. The book is very different from the movie, and yet it tracks, it makes sense. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has every single word I could keep from the original book and get onto the big screen is there, but it’s actually structured a lot differently. In the movie version of it, Charlie is the antagonist and Willy Wonka is the protagonist. Willy Wonka is the character who changes throughout the course of it because I needed somebody to actually have an arc over the course of the movie.

Charlie Bucket starts the movie as a really good kid and ends as a really good kid. I needed to have him be the one who created the change and created the nervous breakdown that was happening for Willy Wonka. It’s incredibly close to the book and yet also incredibly different in terms of the character dynamics you’re seeing there in the story. It really depends on the needs of what it is.

The movies I’m writing as originals, let’s say that I’m writing them in original right now, and it’s great. It’s liberating. It’s sometimes a little scary not to have the backstop of the material you’re adapting.

Mike: Sure. What’s a piece of advice that you just keep giving writers again and again and again they keep ignoring?

John: I alluded to it first, which is basically write the movie you would pay money to see. I said the pay money to see is, I think, important because it distinguishes between commercial, like big C commercial, like, oh, everyone is going to go see that movie. What’s the movie that you actually would want to see? If you love low-budget grisly horror, you should write that because that’s a movie that you wish you could see, that you’d actually pay your money to see.

By the same token, don’t write a football movie if you don’t like football movies. So often, I see people who have spent a year of their life writing movies you would never go see this. There have been a couple times in my life where I’ve come in and done a couple weeks on a movie, it’s like, “I’m never going to see this movie. It’s just not my movie at all,” but as a craftsman, I was just coming in to help them out. I think most of the movies I’ve worked on are movies that I’m genuinely excited to plunk down my money on a Friday night to go see, and that is an important distinction.

Mike: Good advice. After all these years, what do you love about screenwriting?

John: I love the adventure. I love just the chance to just build out a whole new space in a world I’ve never seen before. My experience of writing is, I close my eyes, I put myself in the scene, I see everything, I hear everything, I let it loop through, and then I quickly scribble down what I saw and then go back through and do a clean version.

I’ve always been just very good at just imagining and imagining myself in a place. I love going to that place and imagining it. There’s a series I’m hoping to do next. If it happens, the good part of that part is I look at being in a place for years at a time writing those episodes, and that’s really exciting to me. It’s a little terrifying, but exciting to me to get that chance to stay in a place and watch it grow and develop and change and interact with the realities of production.

Mike: Fantastic. Good answer. You mind if we take a few questions?

John: Sure. Let’s go for it.

Mike: Lynelle, are you still with us?

Lynelle Souleiel: I’m still with you. We have a number of questions, but this one has stood out to me. This is from Luke Rankin. He says, “We’ve talked to good routines, but what bad habits were you able to kick that helped you become a better writer?”

John: It’s a great question. I’m going to fall back on a thing I’ve said other times before. Google it, and I’ve probably said it before. I used to have bad habits, and then I decided to label them habits and not define them as good or bad. They’re just the ways that I work. As I recognize myself falling into a less productive habit, that’s just me. I’m wasting time in the ways I’m wasting time, so I’m doing that thing again. I’m not as harsh on myself when I see myself doing it.

Bad habits are the classic procrastination or doing the New York Times crossword puzzle when I know I should really start first. If I don’t get work done in the morning, I’m not going to get as much work done over the course of the day. If I don’t start that first sprint, which is that first hour of really concentrated work, I’m not going to get as much done in the course of the day.

Also, stuff will eventually get done, and that’s okay too. I can ruminate too much. I can fixate too much on stupid things, but that’s also a part of my brain that’s involved with my imagination. That’s also the muscle I use for writing dialogue. I have bad habits, but I just choose not to label them as bad anymore.

Lynelle: Connor O’Farrell says, “What matters to you more when you write, the process of writing or the prospect of the finished script? Is it the journey or the destination that drives you?”

John: Honestly, it’s the destination. I love having a finished thing. I love reading through something that I really like the outcome of it. Getting there sometimes is bloody and messy along the way. There’s moments where you enter what we call flow, where it’s just like, oh my God, it’s natural and it’s easy, and you just lose time. You’re like, “Wow, this is going so great. It can be addictive. You can start to chase flow in a way that is unhelpful.

If you actually go back and look at artists’ best work, it didn’t always come while they were in their flow states, when everything was good and easy. Some of their best work came when they actually were grumpy and resentful. As long as you’re getting stuff done, that’s what really matters most. Getting stuff done and finishing things, I love it. Love it to death.

Lynelle: [chuckles] Hanif Bahati asks, “How do you think that Hollywood has changed in terms of non-Hollywood writers, the talent outside of America or Hollywood?”

John: There have always been international writers who’ve worked in the Hollywood system. Obviously, a great number of British writers and Australian writers as well who are writing in English, but writing from overseas. Sometimes they come here. I have friends, Kelly Marcel, who’s a terrific writer who came from the UK, but made her career really in the US.

What’s changed most over the course of 15 years is that with the rise of international streamers, there’s a lot more local language production that’s happening with approximating Hollywood budgets. Have been serious, but there have always been great features made overseas. That’s giving exposure to a lot of international writing that US audiences would never have seen before. The globalization on that front is terrific in terms of the ability for non-English language media in particular to be consumed as primary media in the US. It’s a great change.

Lynelle: Claire June asks, “You worked hard to be an in-demand industry insider. What draws you to a project to say yes or to say no?”

John: Great question. There’s the underlying material itself. The first question is it a movie I’d actually pay money to see? Is it something I feel like I could do and that I could do well? Are there good, interesting people associated with it? If they’re people I’ve always wanted to work with, fantastic, or I have worked with them before, great. I will also call around and find people to work with them for it and get the download like, are they an asshole? Life is too short to be working with a bunch of assholes sometimes. Sometimes it’s worth it, but most times it’s not worth it. Those are the things.

I’m also really mindful of the opportunity costs. As I said before, I think over parts of my career, I’ve been chasing a little too much and doing the thing that I feel like I should be doing rather than the thing I really want to be doing. I will ask myself, “Am I just chasing? Is this actually a thing I really do want to do?”

Lynelle: Here’s a question from Joe King about The Prince of Persia. You’re on IMDb page or in your library on your site. He doesn’t see it. There are things he admires about that script. Is there a version you wrote that could be available?

John: I never read Prince of Persia. I was an executive producer on Prince of Persia. Jordan Mechner wrote it, and so Jordan Mechner created the original game of Prince of Persia. We got partnered up through a friend. He said, “I really wanted to do a movie of Prince of Persia.” He and I went around town over the course of two days. We pitched it to every place. Disney bought it for Jerry Bruckheimer.

Jordan wrote it in a great, great script. It got Hollywood Studio’d a bit. I think the movie that Jordan wrote was better than the movie that came out. I’m happy that some people like the original movie, but I never wrote it. It was a good lesson for me in that producing a movie seems like it’s easier than writing a movie, but it’s also very frustrating as a writer because I love Jordan to death. Yet, as we were going through the draft, I kept wanting to just fix things myself rather than suggest how he could fix things.

I likened it to being an airline pilot, and you’re in the cockpit, but you’re not allowed to touch the controls. It was a little bit frustrating on that front. That’s a reason why I’ve not done producing of other people’s stuff over the years. It’s that I learned I’m not a great creative roommate when it comes to screenwriting.

Lynelle: Combining a couple of questions, I’ll just paraphrase. Does age matter? If you are, say, over 50 or 60, does that make you obsolete?

John: It doesn’t make you obsolete, but I think age does matter. Age matters to the degree that you have different possibilities at different moments in your life. If you are just graduating from undergrad and you can live on very little money and eat your ramen and scramble and do things, you’re going to start your screenwriting career differently than if you are a parent with two young kids. You’re going to just make different choices, and that’s understandable and right. Both ways can work, but I think it’s naive to assume that everyone is going to have the same opportunities at every moment in their career.

Screenwriting is about writing a screenplay that people can then use as the basis for making a movie, but it’s also about being able to sit across from somebody and convince them that you really can deliver what they need in order to shoot that movie. There’s a large psychological component, a social component to it, which is important. A 22-year-old is going to have a harder time doing that than a 30-year-old sometimes because it’s just hard to get people to trust you a little bit.

If you are a person who’s not living in Los Angeles, it can be harder still to do that stuff. The logistics and age and things like that do matter, but it’s not because there’s some hard, bright line that you can’t cross. It’s just the nature of physically doing the work with other people that’s a factor.

Lynelle: Here’s a loaded question from Jermaine Reed. “For writers building original films instead of IP, what’s the smartest way to make the script undeniable on the page?”

John: Undeniable on the page. If you’re writing an original thing and it’s going to be a calling card movie, a thing I would strongly encourage you to do is see if there’s a way that the main character, the protagonist, can read as a reflection of you, can read as a reflection of your own experience. As you’re picking through all the things you could possibly write, the thing that most speaks to–

Someone read this script and then they met you, like, “Of course, Mel is the person who wrote this script.” It makes so much sense because they talk to you about, “Oh, where did you come from?” “Oh, I see exactly why you and only you could have written this script.” That is incredibly useful and helpful because not only did they like the script, but they understand, they get a sense of who you are as a person. They can be thinking about, “Even if I don’t do this script, how can I get this very talented writer to write something else for me?” That’s incredibly useful.

Listen, if you want to sell that script, and it’s mostly going to be a sample, if that sample is not just of your writing talent but your voice, your personality, who you are, that is incredibly helpful. That undeniability is not just that it’s commercially viable, but that, “Oh, I get why only he or she could have written the script.”

Lynelle: Here’s one on, “What’s something in younger writers that you’re really excited to see in the future? Is it style or is it theme? Something that Gen X and Millennial aren’t quite doing.”

John: Listen, theme is a hard one. It’s too esoteric, but style and voice. If I’m writing a script, I want to have a sense like the characters are speaking with interesting voices, but also the storytelling style on the page is engaging. If I keep flipping pages and I’m excited to see what happens next, that is a great read and that is a person I want to meet. It’s really of any age. If I was looking for somebody who was specifically writing for younger characters or writing for people currently in their teens and 20s, that’s the kind of thing I would look for on the page.

Lynelle: You personally have a goal of how many pages for yourself you write a day?

John: Three pages is great. Three pages is about an hour or two of writing a day. That seems like that’s not actually a lot, but it’s diminishing returns after two hours of actual writing per day. Just the amount that you actually get done tends to decrease. There are days where you will just crank through 20 pages and they’re actually like a pretty good 20 pages. If you start to think like, “That’s the normal,” you are going to burn yourself out.

In the bonus chapter we put out with Getting Stuff Written, we really dive into that. It’s just basically find whatever is the sustainable amount of writing that you can get done in a day and aim for that. Don’t beat yourself up if you’re not hitting that because otherwise you’re going to start resenting writing, which is not the goal here.

When I was writing, I’ve written some books. I’ve written three. I have a three-book series called Arlo Finch, which is middle grades for Harry Potter age. For those, I had to write 1,000 words a day because I recognized that if I wasn’t hitting that target, you’re just never going to finish the book. 1,000 words seems like a lot, but when you actually look at the screen, as I scroll, it’s not that long. It’s a frustratingly small amount of actual page count, but it gets the job done.

Lynelle: Personally, I wrote a novel and did eight pages a day.

John: Great.

Lynelle: It was exhausting.

John: It is exhausting, yes.

Lynelle: It was tough. You think, “Only eight pages,” but it was exhausting. This is an interesting question from Hannah Lehman. She says, “What is the best time of the year to go out with a script realistically?” Meaning taking into account festivals and holidays, when is the best time to present your script?

John: I am not an agent or manager, and they would have much more experience with this. I would say back to school feels right. September feels right. Your instinct is correct that the holidays are just like, this is a terrible time of year for everything. January after Sundance can be good for a while. I think there’s a fear of the film festivals and stuff like that, overwhelming stuff.

The people who are reading scripts coming in aren’t quite the same audience for that. There’s some time in the spring. Stuff can happen in the summer. It’s just that people are gone more in the summer. It’s tough. I think that’s why you see so many things happening in the fall. Scripts sell every week of the year. There’s times you tend to avoid just because you know fewer people are going to be around.

Lynelle: Arthur asks, they’d love to hear about pushing through when working, when your world or your environment is not conducive to writing.

John: Oh, it’s tough. We have two episodes with a counselor, a psychotherapist named Dennis Palumbo; Episode 99, and there’s another episode. The second episode, I don’t remember the number, but the title of it is like Writing While the World Is On Fire, which was specifically this past January, which come after the elections and Los Angeles was burning. It felt incredibly hard to be thinking about doing meaningful or creative work while it just seemed like the world was crashing down around you. Sometimes it’s bigger outside factors.

Sometimes it’s personal factors. It’s your financial situation. It’s family. It’s illness. There’s other reasons why it’s harder to do. What I would encourage you to do is to think about, let writing be a time where you do have some control in this out-of-control world or life situation.

Can you take 20 minutes and write a scene? Put on your headphones and write a scene and just go off to the corner and do that? You will probably get some stuff done. You’ll probably feel a little bit better. Let writing be an opportunity to manifest some order and structure in a place that’s otherwise very tough to do. I’ve had to do some writing during some really difficult family times. It wasn’t always great or pleasant to be doing it, but in the end, if I were looking back on which pages I wrote during which time, I couldn’t tell you what I wrote when. It ultimately is still my writing.

Drew: Lina, let’s do two or three more.

Lynelle: Stacking your projects, what type of workload do you have? Just curious. Is it two specs and one assignment? They’re wondering about the workload of a professional writer.

John: Writers who are working pretty consistently– I don’t tend to write specs. I’ve written probably three specs over the last 10 years just because I’m generally moving from assignment to assignment with things I pitched to set up versus I wrote from scratch. Generally, I have one first draft that I’m working on. I’m doing that. Then if I hand that in and I have a rewrite or some other project I’m going to, very rarely are two things underneath my fingers at the same time that will happen.

There’s been situations where I’ve been on a first draft and a rewrite and a straw polish all at the same time. Based on the needs of what people needed to do, I was doing all three things. It’s not great for your brain to just be shifting back and forth between all these different things. You’re not going to get story confused, but there’s just a habituation time to put yourself back in the place of what that is and enter into that movie like, “Okay, what do I need to do in this space to make this make sense?”

I will rarely do more than one creative project over the course of the day. As I said earlier, I’m probably only writing two hours of script during the day, but I’m writing other stuff. I’m writing blog posts. I’m writing other initial draft things on stuff. There’s other writing that can be done, even if it’s not the all-consuming brain work of screenwriting.

Lynelle: One more question from David Pimentel. He’s writing and directing an animated movie, and they’ve screened and tested well, but the main character keeps getting the lowest scores. Any thoughts on the matter for that would be awesome.

John: David, sorry. It’s a really common thing, and so hopefully the other people involved in the project understand it’s a really common thing. You’re running into the sidekick problem, which is that the sidekicks in movies, especially animated movies, they’re just more fun because they’re more fun because they don’t have the burden of carrying the plot. People love them because they’re happy and free and get to do things and say crazy stuff.

If you have an opportunity to change things at this point, it may be looking for how can you get some of that sidekick energy into your hero. Are there moments where that hero could actually do a little bit more of that, especially in the very start of the story, so that we’re clicking and engaging with them more as not the responsible character, but as the wild character who is a little bit more unpredictable? What you’re running into is super common, particularly in animation, and that’s just the reality of it.

I’m sure if you actually were to test the characters in Inside Out, for example, Joy’s character probably tests low because she is responsible for carrying the movie on her shoulders, which is a great character. I don’t think everyone else probably scores higher in their boxes because they’re so jokey. That’s just the difference.

Lynelle: You’re getting lots of compliments on Scriptnotes, they’re all in the chat. Personally, I just wanted to say, I know last year, you all went through the fires in LA. I’m from LA, and so my heart’s there. I hope that you’re all pulling through well. It seems like the industry’s coming back after such a difficult time.

John: No, we’re in a much better place, but thank you for asking. It’s improved a lot.

Mike: Any closing thoughts?

John: These are all the right questions. It’s tough because it’s not like there’s one way to do anything, but I can hopefully just share my opinion on what works for me.

Mike: Thank you, John, for taking the time out of your schedule. Have a good night, everyone.

John: Thank you so much.

Lynelle: Thank you, John. Thank you, everybody.

Mike: Thank you so much.

[music]

John: All right, we are back in the present. I have one cool thing that I want to share. Julia Turner is a guest who’s been on the show before. She was at our live show, and she interviewed us about the Scriptnotes book. She’s formerly editor-in-chief of Slate Magazine. She’s a person who knows her journalism. She has launched a new thing called LA Material. It’s a website. It is a podcast. It is a newsletter, and it’s great. Unsurprisingly, it’s terrific. It’s very specifically about Los Angeles.

Some of the articles you can read that are up there right now are about five days that changed the LA mayor’s race. A deep dive inquiry in how many cars should turn left on a red light, which is a very specifically LA thing. Drew, what’s your instinct? You’re at an intersection. There’s no left-turn signal. How many cars are allowed to creep across before, what’s the acceptable number of cars turning?

Drew: Maximum of three. Once the light turns, three is the maximum, and then any more than that is too much.

John: I would agree with you, but the article goes into the wide range of opinions of what that is. Three seems to be where people tend to stop. Four is incredibly aggressive. The idea is that, of course, one car has crossed pretty far into the intersection during the light still being green, and a second one is probably inched into that space, too. It’s a question of whether that third one can gun through. Four is crazy.

Drew: Four is crazy, but if that second one doesn’t go, that’s a problem.

John: Oh, it is a problem, yes, because you’ve blocked the crosswalk, you’ve made a bad situation. You can tell people who’ve only been in Los Angeles a short time because they don’t know that they have to actually clear that intersection.

Drew: Have you ever been in the car with someone who’s born and raised in LA and follows all the traffic lights to the T, is polite at left turns?

John: I haven’t met that person. Have you?

Drew: I’ve sat in the car with a few of those people, and it always blows my mind. I’m like, “I thought you were baked on this. I thought you knew what we were doing.”

John: The weird thing is, LA drivers are not particularly aggressive. They’re not particularly smart, but they’re not particularly aggressive. We will tend to stop for people at crosswalks and do that kind of stuff in ways that people in other cities might not, but you’ve got to learn how to make the left turns. You will see, when I go back to Boulder where I grew up, there was an influx of California people and native Boulder people were like, “Ah, they’re doing these crazy things on the left turns.” Because that’s where they came from. That’s the culture. You’ve got to understand the culture.

Drew: We don’t honk. That’s the whole thing.

John: No, we don’t. It’s not a honking in town.

Drew: I’m excited for Julia because I remember her mentioning– We teased this at the last live show.

John: Yes. Now it’s launched. It’s LA Material. I got to see the list of all of the beta names and other things they were considering. I think LA Material makes sense for what they’re doing. There’s Hollywood news, but it’s not mostly Hollywood. It’s really about just being in Los Angeles.

Drew: I love it.

John: That is our show for this week. Special thanks to Mike Johnston and everyone at the Northwest Screenwriters Guild for hosting this event. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Nick Moore. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask at johnaugust.com. That is also the place where you can send questions like the ones we answered today in this forum, but we usually answer your questions, so send those in to ask at johnaugust.com.

You’ll find transcripts at johnaugust.com, along with a sign-up for our weekly newsletter called Interesting, which has lots of links to things about writing. Of course, the Scriptnotes book is available wherever you buy books. Thank you for continuing to buy the Scriptnotes book. We look every week to see how many we sell, and God bless us, we’re selling a lot of copies. You’ll find us on Instagram @scriptnotespodcast. We have T-shirts and hoodies and drinkware, you’ll find those at Cotton Bureau. You’ll find the show notes with the links to all the things we talked about today in the email you get each week as a premium subscriber.

Again, thank you to our premium subscribers. You make it possible for us to do this each and every week. You can sign up to become a premium subscriber at scriptnotes.net where you get all those backup episodes and bonus segments, like the one we are about to record on sketch comedy writing. Drew, it’s good to see you, and thanks again for putting together this episode.

Drew: Thank you, John.

[Bonus Segement]

John: Drew, in addition to being a writer, you have also been an actor, you’ve taken acting classes, and you’ve done a sketch comedy class somewhere here in town?

Drew: Yes, I did a sketch writing class at UCB, God, probably 10 years ago, but yes, I did 101.

John: The two big schools in Los Angeles, the two big programs that people talk about are Groundlings and UCB, both have improv aspects, but they have sketch comedy as a big factor in it. Talk to me about the things you were doing in your 101 sketch class.

Drew: I remember the first week was just write a sketch and figure out what your voice is, and then we would try to do things out of the news. Every week was a different assignment that was specific. It felt like different types of SNL sketches, basically. You started realizing they were all in little buckets. Then on top of that UCB has a specific philosophy around the concept of game.

Characters have a game, which is hard to describe, but the best description I’ve heard is, an emotional reaction to an unusual thing. You figure out what that is, and then you just try and heighten that and heighten that and heighten that until it gets insane. You’re applying that and practicing that idea and putting characters through that lens. Is that even the right word? That’s not the right word.

John: Yes, but that’s a framework, a structure. Sketch writing was on my brain because an Instagram friend had DM me to say, “Hey, I’m writing a sketch for the first time.” It’s a person who’s a stand-up comedian, “I’m writing a sketch for the first time. Do you talk about that all in your book?” I said, “Not really. There’s no chapter in it and it’s not about sketch comedy writing.” On previous episodes, we’ve talked about, “Okay, here’s a comedic premise.” I think this was an episode with Mike Birbiglia. We talked about, “Here’s a comedic premise. What is the joke version of it? What is the sketch version of it? What is the movie version of it?”

This Instagram friend was asking me, “Tell me about sketch comedy writing.” I said, “I don’t genuinely know how people in that field talk about it, but I can tell you what, as an outside observer, I notice about how sketches work.” Is that there is a premise, a complication that is like, “Oh, we’ve established the normalcy. This is the complication.” Then there’s a series of escalations, and there has to be an out, a button, somewhere to blow out of this moment.

That’s what you see in most internet live sketches. That’s flow of it. It actually closely resembles what a short film would be, except that there has to be something that is so often so strange about what’s happening in this that it actually it feels like a sketch. What you’re describing it with UCB in terms of the game is what is the recurring mechanism that is generating, that is keeping the momentum going in it, correct?

Drew: Correct, and how do you come at it from different angles, too. That’s where the real surprises, I think, start to happen. They pointed a lot to the Kids in the Hall and Mr. Show, Sketches, and Key & Peele, where all those writers came up through the similar ranks, which I think started Second City in Chicago, too.

John: Second City is another important touchstone here. One of the writers I was talking to around the lunch table in negotiations, one came out of the Second City, and one came out of a more New York focus on things. The Second City writer was talking about how character becomes a much more important part of the Second City philosophy of sketch writing, is that a character is driving things. You have to have a character with a specific point of view who is creating the energy within the scene. That tracks.

It’s not just anyone could do the scene. No, it’s specific to these characters or the relationship between certain characters. You see this in a lot of sketches, but also other things out there in the world, where it only makes sense because this character is doing it. Matt Foley in a Van Down by the River. That is a big character who is driving that thing.

It’s not just normal people with a heightened situation around it, as opposed to starring a life sketch with Harry Styles for Pepperidge Farms, who’s doing inappropriate captions for Pepperidge Farm products. It’s more of a normal world, and it’s just the situation gets more absurd around it. It’s great to hear people who do this for a living talking about and thinking about how they’re doing this work.

Drew: Was there anything surprising that they sent to you?

John: Actually, two of the people around the table, they taught this. It was interesting hearing them describe their process of teaching students about this. One would say, was that a timer for three minutes or three and a half minutes, and she would call scene. You have to understand this is the audience’s attention. The audience’s attention is out here. This is the blackout. You have to get out by this moment. That some ideas lend themselves to that short period of time. Some need to be developed more fully, and some are really just a 30-second. It’s just a premise, and then you’re out. It’s really recognizing where is the comedic heart of that idea.

There’s also a conversation about how you think about a Saturday Live sketch or something produced for filmed content, there’s an establishing shot. You see that, “Okay, we’re at the beach, so we don’t have to say that we’re at a beach.” Anything that’s being done on a black box stage, there’s just this expectation. Some character needs to say, “It’s so great that we’re here at the beach,” because otherwise, you just have no idea where it is, where the context is.

There’s things we don’t think about as a feature writer or someone who’s doing television. It’s like, there’s always a visual to tell you that information. You can’t assume that with a sketch, you’re going to have that visual. You may need to communicate really directly with the audience about where we are, what this is, what your expectations should be, and that has to happen in the first 10 seconds. If you’re not getting to the joke premise quickly enough, everyone’s going to feel like they’re out in space.

Drew: That was the thing that they basically told us by line three, you need to know. Line three is what they said.
[crosstalk]

John: Setting up. In case of UCB language, what’s the game? Also, where are we? What’s going on here? Then knowing that you may have situations where you know that your audience knows what the thing is, and so then you may have some sketches that are deliberately messing with that. One of the regs was talking about a thing that he and his scene partners would do, which was basically, they’re both a straight man in the scene. They’re both delivering setups that have no punchline, and they just keep doing it again and again and again, “My wife is such a good cook.”

[laughter]

John: It was like, “Yes, I’m sorry.” It’s like nothing goes that way. It’s that frustration of unanswered things. Everyone comes in with the expectation of what’s going to happen next. The value you’re not delivering it is just like audience edging.

Drew: That is brilliant because they’re breaking the rules.

John: Exactly.

Drew: Yes, another thing that we were taught was don’t hide the ball. You need to get that premise out by line three because the longer you hide whatever the complication is or whatever this premise is, the more the audience is going to want– The more they’re going to expect. They’re going to expect it to be funnier, and you’re never going to live up to that expectation. Just start messy and get it out messy if you need to, and then get to the fun, which I feel like is a good lesson for all writing. We’ll forgive you a little bit of messy at the beginning if it’s worth it for them.

John: It is. Also, I can see why it’s a challenging thing for folks who are coming from a features or TV background, where we talk about those first three pages, which is basically the setting up of things. It’s like, you got to make those sparkly, wonderful, magical and stuff. The lesson from some sketch comedies, sometimes you just need a blunt, clear thing. It’s like, “This is where we are,” and then the magic happens. The engines are just different, and it’s important to recognize that.

Drew: One of my favorite sketches I saw used the stage. They just put a super title above it. It was Mary Holland, who’s an actress who’s great. She was a silent film actress who had Her Arms Were Asleep. They just put that title in front. You knew the premise, and then it’s her trying to go around, and her arms are just flopping and smashing everything. It was so funny. Yes, it’s all you needed. It’s just, now we know the premise, and she just took off. It was great.

John: Other things. There’s often the scrolling credits that are established in this documentary about this, or it’s a presenter saying, “Back in the seminal 1940s film, this, blah, blah, blah,” and setting up what this thing is. Without that, you wouldn’t know– You don’t know what the essential hook is and what the game is that you’re looking for. I did also hear that people get frustrated by the term game because it’s used to apply to anything. It’s one of those terms that’s set for everything and doesn’t mean a specific thing.

Drew: It is a little nebulous, which is why when I was like, “How do I define game?” It’s frustrating, too. I think a lot of these theaters, too, have their own dogma, for lack of a better word, and approach to things. It’s however you get to it. It’s whatever you get to. I think character is always where to ground in a smart way.

John: Absolutely. What is the unique point of view of these characters in this scene? What is specific and unique? Like I said, it’s specificity. This is the thing they’re trying to do. Ego Nwodim had a character on Saturday Live, and I can’t remember the character’s name, but she was this big character who would always– In a restaurant, she would be sawing her food. She was cutting her meat really aggressively.

It’s a hard character to repeat because basically, it’s just doing the same thing. What is the next escalation? We’re talking about, how would you do something else? We understand what her thing is, but what’s another character who could enter into that so that they could have interesting, conflicting contrasting styles? That’s the challenge. Otherwise, you’re just doing the same. It’s just the same beats, and it’s not a new sketch, it’s not a new idea. That’s got to be one of the great challenges, frustrations, and opportunities for shows with great recurring characters, is what to do next.

Drew: Did you talk to anyone who was in the more like a weekend update, last week, tonight, Daily Show people?

John: I did, yes. They talked about joke buckets, which joke buckets are desk bits where there doesn’t need to be an escalation. It’s just like, here’s a joke, here’s a joke, here’s a joke. They’re all in the same line and thread, but they don’t need to escalate up. Desk bits are often joke buckets where it’s just like, here’s one funny thing after another. That’s totally great and totally valid, but it’s a different thing than sketch writing. You can understand why people on a show might be assigned specifically to that task versus other tasks.

Drew: I’m always so impressed with comedy packets because they have to have it all. You have to be able to do sketch. You have to have all of those daily show jokes. It’s so much funny material that comedy writers have to pull together.

John: I was heartened to hear that one of the writers who was teaching said that they often go back to the chapter in the Scriptnotes book or the episode before it was a chapter on Craig’s how to write a movie and the specific Finding Nemo stuff from there about this is a relationship between these two characters and what they need from each other. So often comedy does come about by really understanding what characters want and how you’re communicating that to the audience, to the viewer.

Drew: It all comes back to that, doesn’t it? We can’t get away from it.

John: We will have some very smart sketch people on the show to talk through in actual knowledge rather than just secondhand knowledge like we did today. I just want to say one of the real joys of being on the negotiating committee is I’m surrounded by so many smart writers. Tom Fontana is in the room every day. Tom Fontana has created all of these shows. He can introduce himself by saying, “I’ve been a WGA member for 45 years.” I’m like, “Lord,” and a showrunner for 41 of those years, which is wild.

To recognize the long line of writers and how they have shaped this industry and how the things that they’ve created are why we have Hollywood that we have, which is incredible. Drew, great chatting with you.

Drew: Great talking to you too, John. Good luck with stuff.

John: Thanks.

Links:

  • Northwest Screenwriters Guild
  • Steven Soderbergh’s Sex Lies and Videotape book
  • Our episode with KPop Demon Hunters writers Danya Jimenez & Hannah McMechan
  • Notes on Notes
  • John’s screenplay library
  • Dennis Palumbo episodes, 99 – Psychotherapy for screenwriters and 676 – Writing while the World is on Fire
  • LA Material
  • Get your copy of the Scriptnotes book!
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Become a Scriptnotes Premium member, or gift a subscription
  • Subscribe to Scriptnotes on YouTube
  • Scriptnotes on Instagram and TikTok
  • John August on Bluesky and Instagram
  • Outro by Nick Moore (send us yours!)
  • Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

Scriptnotes, Episode 729: Endings Compendium, Part II, Transcript

March 25, 2026 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hello, and welcome. My name is John August, and you are listening to Episode 729 of Scriptnotes. It’s a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

This week, Craig and I are off on different adventures, so producer Drew Marquardt has assembled a compendium episode. Drew, what do you have for us?

Drew Marquardt: We’re doing endings.

John: Endings? But we’ve done endings before.

Drew: We have done endings before. I didn’t realize we’d done endings before, but Megana did a wonderful Episode 524, which is our first endings compendium. I am going to use a few different episodes, so hopefully you can listen to them both.

John: Endings compendium part two?

Drew: Part two-ish. There’s a few bits from the previous episode. I figured we’d start with Episode 44, which is Endings for Beginners. That’s just a good overview of how endings work.

John: Episode 44, wow, reaching way back there.

Drew: Way back. Then we’ll go to 366 on denouements, and how that works, and the last moment of your film. Then we’re going to go to Episode 648, which is Farewell Scenes. It’s just you and Aline, but it’s one of my favorite episodes we’ve done.

John: Great.

Drew: I love it. Then we’ll end on Episode 392, which is about how and why endings change and how to communicate it at different stages of production from your first idea all the way through to the end.

John: This all sounds great. I remember going through the endings chapter of the Scriptnotes book, and these were the episodes we were pulling from to get that material that’s in there. It’s nice to hear them again as conversations.

Drew: That’s my secret. That’s how I’m pulling these topics.
[laughter]

John: You’re like, “What was in the book? Oh, yes, that’s it.”

Drew: Just checking it out. That’s what we’ll do it. We’ll listen to these four segments. You’ll hear the loops between them. Then at the end, in our bonus segment for premium members, we will continue the discussion we had with Drew Goddard recently talking about casting minor characters in your story and particularly writing character sides because a thing that often happens is you have a character who may not have very many lines in the show or in the movie, but you need more material for them to actually audition with.

You write special scenes that are longer than what will actually be in the movie because if it’s just three lines, you’re not going to really be able to get a sense of that character from those three lines.

John: Love it. Great.

Drew: We’ll do that. Join us after these four segments. We’ll do some closing business and then our bonus segment.

John: Thanks, Drew.

Drew: Thanks, John.

[Episode 44]

John: I thought today we’d start by talking about endings and let this be more of a craft episode because a lot of times, as you start looking at writing screenplays, start writing TV pilots, it’s all about those first 10 pages about getting people hooked and getting people to know your world, getting people to love your characters. That’s not ultimately what they’re going to walk away from your movie with. They’re going to walk away from your movie with an ending.

I thought we’d spend some time today talking about endings and the characteristics of good endings and the things you need to look for as a writer as you’re figuring out what your story is, both way in advance and as you’re leading up to those last few pages.

Craig Mazin: Yes. I think we had talked in a prior podcast about the bare minimums required to start beyond idea, main character. For me, one of them is ending. I need to know how the movie ends because, essentially, the process of the story is one that takes you from your key crucial first five pages to those key crucial last 10. Everything in between is informed by your beginning and your ending, everything. I’ve never understood people who write and have no idea how the movie’s going to end. That’s insane to me.

John: I would argue that a screenplay is essentially a contract between a writer and a reader. It’s the same with a book, but we’re talking about screenplays. You’re saying to the reader, “If you will give me your time and your attention, I will show you a world, I will tell you a story, and it will get to a place that you will find satisfying. It will surprise you. It will fulfill you. You will have enjoyed spending your time reading this script and seeing the potential in this movie.” The ending is where you won or you lost. It’s the punchline.

It’s the resolution. It’s the triumph. So often, it’s the last thing we actually really focus on. So many writers, I think, spend all their time working on those first 10 pages, the first 30 pages, that start powering through the script. Those last 5, 10 pages are written in a panicked frenzy because they owe the script to somebody, or they just have to finish. Those last 10 pages are just banged out, and they’re not executed with nearly the precision and nearly the detail of how the movie started. Which is a shame because if you think about any movie that you see in the theater, hopefully, you’re enjoying how it starts.

Hopefully, you’re enjoying how the ride goes along, but your real impression of the movie was how it ended. My impression of The Silence of the Lambs, great movie all the way through, but I’m thinking about Jodie Foster in the basement and what happens there. As I look at more recent movies like Prometheus, I’m looking at the things I enjoyed along the way, but I’m also asking, “Did I enjoy where that movie took me to at the end?”

Craig: Yes, I like what you say about contract. That’s exactly right because it’s understood that everything that you see is raveling or unraveling, depending on your perspective, towards this conclusion. The conclusion must be intentional. We always talk about intention and specificity. The conclusion must, when you get to it, be satisfying in a way that makes you realize everything had to go like this. Not that it had to go like this, but to be satisfying, it had to go like this. That ultimately, the choices that were made by the character and the people around the character led to this moment, this key moment.

I think we should talk about what makes an ending an ending because it’s not just that it’s the thing that happens before credits roll. I’ve always thought the ending of a movie is defined by your main character performing some act of faith. There’s a decision, and there’s a faith in that decision to do something. That is connected. It always seems to me it is connected through all the way back to the beginning in a very different way from what is there in the beginning. That’s the point is that there’s an expression of faith in something that has changed, but there is a decision.

There is a moment where that character does something that transcends and brings them out of what was so that hopefully by the end of the movie, they are not the same person they were in the beginning.

John: Either they have literally gotten to the place that you’ve promised the audience that they’re going to get to. If you’ve set up a location that they’re going to get to, is Dorothy going to get back to Kansas? You could have ended the movie when she got to Oz or when she got to the Emerald City because she was running the Emerald City, but her real goal was to get back to Oz or to get back to Kansas. I’m confusing all my locations. Dorothy wants to get back to Kansas. If the movie doesn’t get us back to Kansas, we’re going to be frustrated.

If she gets back to Kansas and we’re there for 10 more minutes, we’re going to be frustrated. The movie has promised us that she will get back to Kansas, or I guess she could die trying. That’s a valid choice too.

Craig: I’d like to see that on the movie.

John: That’s her literal stated goal. That’s her want. There’s also her need. Her need is to, I guess, come to appreciate the people that she’s with to find some independence. I don’t know. What’s the need?

Craig: That’s what I’m talking about when I say that the character must have some faith in a choice and a decision that’s different. In the beginning of the movie, she leaves home. She runs away. At the end of the movie, she has to have faith that by actually loving home, which she finally does now, she can return. Essentially, you can look at the entire movie in a very simple way as somebody saying to a runaway on the street, “Trust me, kid, if you want to go back home, you can get back home. You just got to want to go back home. I know you ran away.

You made a stand. You thought you were grown up. The world is scary. It’s okay. You can go back home. They’ll take you back.” That’s what The Wizard of Oz is. The whole thing is a runaway story. Yet, the ending, it’s funny. A lot of people have always said, “The ending, it’s deus ex machina. She just hands her the shoes. She could have given her the shoes and told her to click her heels in the beginning, we’d be done with this thing.” The point is then, okay, fine. Maybe that’s a little clumsy, but really more to the point. The ending is defined by faith and decision.

I think almost every movie, the wildest arrangement of movies, look at Raiders of the Lost Ark, in the end, he has faith. “Close your eyes, Marion.” That’s faith he didn’t have in the beginning in something. It’s not always religious. The Ghostbusters have decided, “We’re going to cross the streams. We’re going to have faith that we’re going to do the thing we knew we weren’t going to do. Forget fear. Let’s just go for it. It’s the only way we can save the world. We might die in the process, but we’re heroes now. We have faith in that.”

I see it all the time. I feel like when you’re crafting your ending and you’re trying to focus it through the lens of character as opposed to circumstance, finding that decision is such a big deal.

John: Yes. The ending of your movie is very rarely going to be defeating the villain or finding the bomb. It’s going to be the character having achieved something that was difficult throughout the whole course of the movie. Sometimes that’s expressed as what the character wanted. More often, it’s expressed as what the character needed but didn’t realize he or she needed. By the end of the movie, they’re able to do something that they weren’t able to do at the start of the movie, either literally or because they’ve made emotional progress over the course of the movie that they can do something.

Craig: Right. That’s exactly right. It’s a great way of thinking about, sometimes we get lost in the plot jungle. We look around, and we think, “This character could go anywhere and do anything.” Stop thinking about that and start thinking about what you want to say about life through your movie because, frankly, there’s not much more reason to watch movies.

John: We are talking about movies, not TV shows. A movie is really a 2-hour or 100-minute lens on one section of a character’s life, on one section of a cinematic world. You’re making very deliberate choices about how you’re starting. What are the first things we’re seeing so we can meet those characters? You have to make just as deliberate choices about where you’re going to end, what’s the last thing that we’re going to take out of this world, and why are we cutting out this slice of everything that could happen to show us in this time?

You will change your ending just as you change your beginning, but you have to go in with a plan for where you think this is going to go to.

Craig: No question. I think a huge mistake to start writing, frankly, if you’re writing and you don’t know how the movie ends, you’re writing the wrong beginning. To me, the whole point of the beginning is to be somehow poetically opposite the end. That’s the point. If you don’t know what you’re opposing here, I’m not really sure how you know what you’re supposed to be writing at all.

John: In one of our first screenwriting classes, they forced us to write the first 30 pages and the last 10 pages, which seemed like a really brutal exercise, but was actually very illuminating because if you’ve written the first 30 and the last 10, you can write your whole movie because you have to know everything that’s going to happen in there to get you to that last moment. It makes you think very deliberately about what those last things are. I still try to write those last 10 pages pretty early on in the process, while I still have enthusiasm about my movie, while I still love it, while I’m still excited about it.

I’m not writing those last pages in a panic and with coffee and momentum. I’m writing them with craft, and with detail, and with precision. Then I can write some of the middle stuff with some of that panic and looseness. If I’ve lost some of my enthusiasm, I can muscle through some of the middle parts, but I don’t want to muscle through my ending. I want the ending to be something that’s precise and exactly what this movie wants to be.

Craig: I have the OCD need to write chronologically. I can’t skip around at all, but I won’t start writing until I know the ending. What I mean by “ending,” I know what the character, what he thought in the beginning of the movie, what he thinks differently in the end, why that difference is interesting, what decision he’s going to make. Then what action is he going to take that epitomizes his new state of mind? When we start thinking about what should the ending be, I think sometimes writers think about how big should the explosion be or which city should the aliens attack.

If you start thinking about what would be the best, most excruciating, difficult test of faith for my hero and his new outlook on life, or at least his new theoretical outlook on life. Pixar does this better than anybody, and they do so much better than everybody. It’s funny because I really started thinking about endings this way because of Pixar films. I was watching Up, and they got to that point where Carl had finally decided that kid was worth going back to save. He brought the house right to where he said he would bring it, and no, he’s going to leave that and go back.

I liked that, but I thought that’s not quite that difficult of a test. Then, of course, see, Pixar knows that it wasn’t enough, that the real test to say, “I have moved on,” is to let that house go. They design their climax, they design the action of the climax in such a way to force Carl, the circumstances force Carl to let the house go to save the kid. That’s the perfect example to me of how to think about writing a satisfying ending. That’s why that ending is satisfying. It’s not about the details. The details are as absurd as man on airship with boy scout, flying talking dogs, and a house tied to him. No problem. You can make it work.

John: An example I can speak to very specifically is the movie Big Fish, which really follows two storylines. The implied contract with the audience is, you know the father’s going to die. It would be a betrayal of the movie if the father suddenly pulled out of it, like the father wasn’t going to die. We know from the start of the movie that the father’s going to die. The question of the movie is, will the father and son come to terms, will they reconcile before his death, and will this rift be amended? Quite early on, I had to figure out what is it that the son can–

The son is really the protagonist in the present day. What is it that the son can do at the end of the story that he couldn’t do at the start of the story? The son has to tell the story of the father’s death. Knowing that that’s going to be an incredibly difficult, emotionally trying thing to do, but I could see all that, I could feel all that, knowing that was the moment I was leading up to, what is it that lets the son get to that point? You’re really working backwards to, “What are the steps that can get me to that point?”

It’s hearing someone else tell one of the father’s stories against Jenny Hill that fills in this missing chapter and why that chapter is missing. It’s backtracked into, how big is the fight that set up this disagreement? What are the conversations along the way? Knowing I needed to lead up to that moment, knowing what that ending was, was what let me track the present-day storyline back to the beginning.

Craig: Exactly. John, there has to be a connection between the beginning and the end. I am excited for the day that Identity Thief comes out because I can talk specifically about how that ending, the whole reason I wrote that movie, aside from liking it, was that I thought I had a very interesting dilemma for the character at the end, and that it was an interesting climax of decision. The decision meant something, and it was interesting, and I liked that. To me, it’s all about the ending like that. Looking forward to that one coming out. Hopefully, people will like it.

John: This talk of endings reminds me of, I met John Williams. He was at USC. The scoring stage is named the John Williams Scoring Stage. When they were rededicating it, John Williams was there along with George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, and they were talking about the movies they worked on together. John Williams made this really great point. It was that the music of a movie is the thing that you take home with you. It’s like the goodie bag. It’s like the one thing you, as an audience member, get to recycle and play in your head is that last theme.

As I’m thinking about endings, that’s the same idea. It’s like, what is that little melody? What is that moment that people are going to walk out of the theater with? That’s your ending. We’ve both made movies where we’ve gone through testing, and you’ll see that the smallest change in the ending makes this huge difference in how people react to you.

Craig: Sure.

John: It’s that last little thing that they take with them.

Craig: Yes. In fact, when people are testing movies that have absurdly happy endings, what you’d call an uplifting film, you almost have to discount the numbers. You’ll get a 98, and you’ll think, “It’s not really a 98.” At this point, it doesn’t matter. It’s just that the ending was such a big thumbs up. If you ask these people tomorrow or the next day, would they pay to go see it? You might get a different answer. Similarly, when you end on a bummer or on a flat note, it’s just like the air goes out of the theater. People will struggle to explain why they did not like the movie when, in fact, they just didn’t like the ending.

John: Yes. I want to make sure that people are listening. We’re not arguing for happy endings. We’re not arguing that every movie needs to have a happy ending. It needs to have a satisfying ending that matches the movie that you’ve given them up to that point. It’s one that tracks with the characters along the way. It doesn’t mean the character has to win. The character can die at the end. That’s absolutely fine. As long as the death is meaningful in the context of the movie that you’ve shown us.

Craig: Yes. Maybe just a little bit of hope. I always thought it was such a great choice by Clint Eastwood, the ending shot of Unforgiven, which really ends on a downer. This man struggled his whole life, most of his adult life, to be a good person, when inside, in fact, he was awful. In a moment of explosion at the end, truly reveals the devil inside, kills everybody. We sickly root for it. Then he goes back home. It basically says he just died alone.

Yet there’s something nice about the image because while that’s rolling and we just dealt with all that, the final images of him alone on his farm putting some flowers down, I think by the grave of his dead wife, who we understand from the scroll, is somebody that he truly loved and was good to. There is a bit of hope there.

[Episode 366]

Craig: It seemed to me that one of the things we hadn’t talked about over the course of our many episodes is the end. Not the end the way people normally talk about the end when we say, “How’s the movie end?”

Usually, people are talking about the climax. There’s all sorts of stuff to be said about the dramatic climax of a film and how it functions and why it is the way it is. The real end of the movie comes after. The real end is the denouement, as the French call it. This is the moment after the climax. When things have settled down. There’s actually a ton of interesting things going on in there. It is the very last thing people see. It’s an important thing. I’ll tell you who understands the value of a good denouement. The people that test films.

They’ll tell you if you have a comedy and you have one last terrific joke there, it’ll send your scores up through the roof. If you have one last little bit of something between two characters that feels meaningful, it’ll send your scores through the roof. The last thing we get is, in a weird way, the most important. I wanted to talk through the denouement, why it is there, and what it’s supposed to be doing.

John: Great. Dénouement is a French word. Dénouer is to untie, to unknot something. It’s interesting that it’s to unknot something because when you think about it, they’re tying everything up. You also think about it like undoing all the tangles that your story has created. It’s like straightening things out again so that you can leave the theater feeling the way we want you to feel. As we’re matching the prototypical 120-page screenplay, these are the very last few pages, correct, Craig?

Craig: Yes, absolutely. This is after the dust has settled. There’s going to be inevitably something. We’ll talk through it. For instance, sometimes it’s one single shot. Typically, it’s its own scene, but there’s something to let you know this is the denouement. In that sense, I guess the first thing we should do is draw a line between climax and denouement to say, okay, what is the difference here? The climax, I think, we all get the general gist there. It’s action, choices, decision, conflict, sacrifice. All of it is designed to achieve some sort of plot impact.

In the climax, you save the victim, or you defeat the villain, you stop the bomb, you win the money, whatever it is that the plot is doing, that’s what happens there. The climax dramatically serves as a test of the protagonist. The test is, have you or have you not become version 2.0 of yourself? You started at version 1.0. We know some sort of change needs to happen to make you better, fix you, heal you, unknot you. Have you gotten there yet? This is your test. At the end of the climax, we have evidence that the character has, in fact, transformed into character 2.0.

The denouement, which occurs after this, to me, is about proof that this is going to last. That this isn’t just a momentary thing, but rather, life has begun again, and this is the new person, this is the new reality.

John: Absolutely. In setting up your film, you establish a question for this principal character. Will they be able to accomplish this thing? Will they be able to become the person who can meet this final challenge? In that climax, they have met that final challenge, they have succeeded in that final challenge, generally, and we’ve come out of this. Was it just a one-time fluke thing? Are they always going to be this way? Have they transformed into something that is a lasting transformation? That is what you’re trying to do in these last scene or scenes, is to show that this is a thing that is really resolved for them.

Craig: That is why so many denouements will begin with “six months later,” “one year later,” because you want to know that, okay, if the denouement here is, “Right, I used to crash weddings like a cad, but now I’m crashing my own friend’s wedding because I need to let this woman know that I really do love her and I’ve changed.” She says, “Okay,” we need, six months later, one year later, to know, yes, they did change, they’re still together, they’re now crashing weddings together as a couple, so they have this new reality, but it is lasting, and their love is real.

We need it, or else we’re left wondering, “Oh, all right. Did they make it or not?” Now, that said, sometimes your denouement can happen in an instant, and then the credits roll, and it’s enough because of the nature of the instant, particularly if it’s something that is a very stark, very profound reward that has been withheld for most of the movie. Karate Kid maybe has the shortest denouement in history. Climax, Daniel wins the karate fight. Denouement, Mr. Miyagi smiles at him. That’s it. That smile is a smile that he has not earned until that moment, and when he gets that smile, you know that he’s good. This is good.

John: As we’re talking, I’m thinking back through some of my movies. In Go, the denouement is they’ve gotten back to the car at the end, and the main and final question is, “So what are we doing for New Year’s?” It’s establishing that they’ve been through all this drama, but they’re back on a normal track to keep doing exactly what they’ve been doing before. That was the journey of the movie has gotten them back to the place where they can take the same journey the next week, which is the point of the movie.

In Big Fish, certainly, the climax is getting Edward to the river. There’s a moment post-climax where they’re at the funeral, and they see all the real versions of folks. The actual denouement, as we’re describing right now, is sort of that six months later, probably actually six years later, where the son who’s now born and saying, “Oh, did all of that really happen?” The father says, “Yep, every word.” Essentially, you see the son buying into the father’s stories in the sense that there’s a legacy that will live on.

They’re very short scenes. They’re probably not the scenes you remember most in the movie, but they are important for sending you out of there thinking like, “The characters are on trajectory I want them to be on.”

Craig: Yes. The climax of Identity Thief is that Melissa McCarthy’s character gives herself up so that Jason Bateman’s character can be free of her and the identity theft and live with his life, which is a huge deal. That’s something she does. That’s a self-sacrifice she does because of what he’s helped her to see, and that’s what he’s now learned from her. The denouement, which is important, is to see, okay, it’s a year later, and she’s in prison, which was really important to say, “Look, it’s real. She went to prison.” What’s happening? Jason and Amanda, who plays his wife, they’ve had their baby, and everything’s okay.

He’s got a great new job. He’s doing fine. She’s been working hard in prison and studying so that she can get out and come work for him. He then has something for her, which is he’s found her real name because she doesn’t know who she is. He found her birth certificate and found her real name. You get a kind of understanding that this relationship did not just stop right there. It could have. She was a criminal, but it didn’t, and that they’re going to go on and on. Then she punches a guard in the throat because the other thing about the denouement is typically it is a full circling of your movie.

It is in the denouement that you have your best chance for any kind of fun or touching full-circle moment. In Identity Thief, you have both. She, at one point, says she doesn’t know her real name. Here we find out her real name, which is Dawn Budgie, which is the worst name ever. The way she met him originally was by punching him in the throat. Here she’s going to go ahead and punch a guard in the throat because you change, but you don’t change completely because that feels gloppy. Both of those things are full-circle moments.

In the denouement, if you can find those, or if you’re wondering what to do in your denouement, start thinking about that and looking for that little callback full-circle moment. It is incredibly satisfying in that setting.

John: Yes. A crucial point I think you’re making here is that the denouement is not about plot. It’s about story and theme, but it’s not about the A plot of your movie. Your A plot is probably all done. It’s paying off things you’ve set up between your characters. It’s really paying off relationships generally, is how you are wrapping things up. It’s showing what has changed in the relationships between these characters and giving us a sense of what those relationships are going to be like going forward.

Craig: Oh, and that’s a great point, too. You’re absolutely right that it is showing what has changed, and therefore, it’s also showing what hasn’t changed, which can sometimes be just as important. For instance, if your theme is all you need is love, then it is important to show in the denouement that, okay, our protagonist has found love. She now has fulfilled that part of her life, but the other things that maybe she had been chasing aren’t there. If your problem is, okay, my character is Vanessa, and Vanessa thinks that it’s more important to be successful than to be loved, which is an incredibly trite movie.

I apologize to Vanessa. At the end, if she’s found love, I think maybe that’s good. I don’t need also then success because then I start to wonder, “Okay, what was the lesson here?” Sometimes you just want to show nothing has changed except one thing. At the end of Shrek, he still lives in a swamp, and he is still an ogre, but he’s not alone. One thing changes, and the denouement is very good for almost using the scientific method to change one variable and leave the others constant.

John: Absolutely. You’re saying that if you did try to change a bunch of variables, if the character ended up in a completely different place and a whole new world than how they started, then we would still have questions about what is their life going to be like. We just don’t understand how they fit into all this thing. By changing the one thing, we can carry our knowledge of the rest of their life, and see that, and just make that one change going forward.

Craig: Yes, exactly. It’s a chance for you to not have to worry about propelling anything forward, but rather letting people understand something is permanent, and permanent in a lovely way. Very often, the denouement will dot, dot, dot off the way that a lot of songs just fade out. Some songs have a big, dum-dum, da-dum, and that’s your end. You can do that. Some of them just fade out, which is also lovely. The end of Casablanca is a brilliant little fade-out. He says goodbye to Elsa. She’s off on the plane. The plot of the Nazis is over.

Everything’s finished. Then two men just walk off and say, “You know what? I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Therein is a dot, dot, dot. They just walk off into the fog. A plane takes off. You understand more adventures are ahead, but for now, everything’s okay.

John: Yes, it’s nice when you get a sense that there will be further stories we don’t necessarily need to see the sequel, but you get a sense of where they’re generally headed and that you don’t need to be worrying about them an hour later from now. Here’s the counterexample. Imagine you’re watching this film, and you’re watching Casablanca, and for some reason, the last 10 minutes get cut off, like the film breaks. That is incredibly jarring because you’ve not been safely placed back down.

There’s a social contract that happens when a person starts watching a movie. It’s like the writer and the filmmakers say, “If you give me about two hours of your time, I will make it worth your while. You trust me, and I will take you to a place, and I’ll deposit you back safely where you started.” If you’re not putting people back safely where they started, they’re not going to have a good reception, a good reaction. That’s what you find when you do audience testing is so often, what’s not working about the movie is that they didn’t feel like they got to the place where they expected to be delivered.

Craig: I suspect that people reasonably invest an enormous amount of time, energy, and thought into building their climaxes, and then the denouement becomes an afterthought. For me, it is the actual ending. That’s actually the ending I back up from, is the denouement.

John: All right, so let’s wrap up this conversation of denouement because denouements are about wrapping things up. The key takeaways we want people to get from a denouement is that it is a resolution of not plot, but of theme, of relationships, of the promise you’ve made to the audience about these principal characters and what is going to happen going forward. What else do we want people to know?

Craig: That is essentially what they’re going to do. You’re going to show them that last bit, whether you’ve done a good job or a poor job. When they see the last bit of the movie, they will, in their minds, add on the following words, “And thus, it shall always be.” If you have done it well, “and thus it shall always be” will be really comforting and wonderful for them. By the way, sometimes it’s not comforting. Sometimes it’s sad. Honestly, the denouement of Chernobyl is quite sad and bittersweet. No shock there. Fiddler on the Roof has one of the best denouements of all time.

The Fiddler on the Roof opens with a guy playing this, [vocalizes song], and it’s very jaunty, and he’s on a roof, and it’s silly. Tevye is talking to the audience and saying, “This is like our life is hard and it’s tricky. We’re like a fiddler on the roof trying to scratch out a simple little tune without breaking your neck.” At the end of the show, they have been driven from their town of Anatevka by pogroms, and they are trudging off to a new home, and the fiddler is the last person to go. He plays that same little tune, but it’s so sad this time. The denouement is to say, “And thus it shall always be.”

Meaning, we know based on the timeframe that what follows the people who leave Anatevka, and whenever that takes place, let’s just call it 1910, is going to be worse. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, and thus it shall always be. It doesn’t always have to be, “And happily ever after.” Sometimes it can be, “And sadly ever after.” The point is, it will be thus, and it shall thus always be. If you think about it that way, the denouement becomes incredibly important because that’s where you’re sealing the fate of every single character in your film.

John: Yes. Everyone’s going to be frozen in that little capsule that you’ve created there, and that can be placed up on the shelf. That is the resolution for this world that you’ve built to contain this story. That’s why it’s so crucial that it feel rewarding. Whether it’s a happy ending or a sad ending, that it feels like an ending.

Craig: Yes.

[Episode 648]

John: Today, I want to talk about farewells, which is that moment in a movie where two characters are saying goodbye, presumably for the last time. We’ll talk through some examples of these scenes in movies, but also what are the characteristics of a farewell scene? This could be the end of a romance. It could be that one character is dying. Big Fish, of course, it’s obviously a farewell scene. We have the deathbed scene and the funeral there, too. Or it could be some other situation that is pulling these two characters apart.

Maybe buddies who’ve come to, they were rivals at the start, they became friends, and now they’re having to say farewell, and we see the journey there. I want to talk through the aspects of farewell scenes, how they work, why they work, and what things writers should be looking for if they’re crafting a farewell scene. Can you think of farewell scenes that you’ve written?

Aline Brosh McKenna: The one that I’ve spoken about the most probably is the end of Prada, where they see each other on the street, and Miranda does a little tip of the hat to Andy. I think you can interpret that in a number of ways. Is that a salute? Is that a farewell? She has a little bit of a lingering smile when she gets into the limo. Then Meryl says, “Go.” I say, “Meryl,” because in the way it was scripted, actually in the scene description, it said she looks at the driver, “Go,” was in the scene description. They had actually shot it, were packing up, and Meryl wanted to go back and say, “Go,” to the driver.

It snaps you back into her actual MO. It’s funny because I think about this also with respect to romantic comedies that end with people kissing and that has a finality. You need to make either your coming togethers or your coming aparts feel final because you don’t want to feel like they said goodbye forever at the end of Casablanca, and then they ran into each other in a bar two days later. It needs to feel– and the same thing with rom-coms, if it’s end of Pretty Woman, he rescued her, she rescued him right back. You don’t want to feel like cut to four days later, where it’s like, “This is insane.”
You leave your pants on the floor. What is this? How do you make any ending feel like it’s stuck?

John: Yes. That’s why I think, because movies are one-time journeys for characters, we mostly think about farewells in the course of movies. Of course, some series, especially with ongoing, regular characters, they will say farewell to a character, and that can be incredibly meaningful at that same time. Let’s think through the aspects of a farewell. Generally, the characters in that scene acknowledge that this is the end. They may not go into the scene knowing that it’s going to be the end, but at some point in the course of the scene, they realize this is the end.

The location that they’re at generally is relevant to the scene. Either it’s a special place for them or creates a situation in which they have to say goodbye. Ideally, it needs to rhyme with an earlier moment in the story.

Aline: Oh, that’s a great point. That’s a great tip for writers. It should not be a random place. It should be something that goes, “Oh, the irony.”

John: Yes. It could be the location rhymes that we’re back in the place we were before. The dialogue is rhyming back to an earlier thing that was said before. Something about this moment needs to feel like it echoes the thing that happened before. Looking through these examples, we’re going to see that there’s a bunch of non-verbal story points. There’s a lot of silences in these, and that’s honestly the characteristics of these, and that’s why sometimes we’re not going to be playing the audio for this because there’s a lot of people not talking.

Aline: I hope you’re going to put these up on the website because this is fantastic. This is fantastic. This is really good. Now, I did send you that funny– there’s a funny piece about the end of Big and how many problems it brings up, where it’s like, are there missing posters for him as an adult? Are there missing posters for the boy? I had read that in the original end of Big that he goes back to class, and there’s a girl named Susan in his class. They wink of like, “This is going to be Elizabeth Perkins,” but they drop that, and so they’re never going to see each other again.

I had been trying to think of comedies, and that’s one. Then you have E.T. is probably one of the– and as we had discussed, I think Past Lives is people were hysterically sobbing at that moment of they’ve been separated for so long, and this is another separation, possibly permanent.

John: I think what’s important about Past Lives is a good example of this is that you’re closing, hopefully, two characters’ arcs. It’s not just your protagonist that you’re seeing through this, and this is the end of their journey. Hopefully, the other character, it’s the end of their journey, too, at least in terms of what we’ve seen them go through. Past Lives is a great example of that. If there’s a choice to be made, hopefully your characters are making the choice. Sometimes the situation may just require them to separate, but I think the farewells that land best, one of the characters is making a choice for this to be the end, and that feels great.

Aline: Can I ask you a question?

John: Please.

Aline: How do you feel about this Bill Murray whisper at the end of Lost in Translation? Is that tantalizing to you, or is that frustrating for you?

John: For me, it’s a little bit frustrating, and also as I went back to look at the kiss, my recollection of the real movie is that there was a friendship and it was a relationship, but it wasn’t a romance at all, and then he kisses her on the lips, and I’m like, “Wait, he did? That sounds weird.” It felt like it was more of a–

Aline: Of a cheek moment.

John: Yes, cheek moment rather than on-the-lips moment, and I was like, “Ugh.” I didn’t like the moment when I just watched the clip out of context.

Aline: Yes, lip kissing is out. I used to have a couple of friends who were lip kissers, and I feel like, which was always like when you start coming towards you and time slows down, and you’re like– because my lip-kissing policy would be spouse or gave birth to, that’s about it, pretty much. Those people are coming at you, and you’re like, “Uh, slow motion, turn the page.” I think post-COVID.

John: To me, lip kissing is a romantic gesture.

Aline: Can you imagine if I lip-kissed John on the way out here? Drew would be so uncomfortable, or if I lip-kissed Drew on the way out here, it would be so weird.

John: We’d all be so uncomfortable.

Aline: So weird. I mean the French–

John: Yes, but it’s the cheeks.

Aline: The cheek. Yes, and it felt like this wanted to be a two-cheeker. We don’t do that in America, but I agree with you. I have a memory of this being a cheek kiss, and it’s not. You’re saying it’s a full lip kiss. Interesting.

John: Of course, we can look at the video.

Aline: What do you feel about not knowing what he said?

John: I’m a little bit frustrated, but I’m also kind of okay with it. How do you feel about it?

Aline: I think it suits this movie, which has sort of a thread of enigma running towards it, and I think it suits Sofia Coppola’s vibe. I think that sense of intrigue and that sense that like, people are layered and mysterious, I think it works for this. If this was in a really super mainstream Hollywood movie, you’d be irritated.

John: We, as an audience, need to see that growth or change has happened. A farewell will not be meaningful to us, unless we’ve seen that the characters are in a different place now than they were at the start of the story, and not just because of circumstances, but because of things they chose to do. Also, as an audience, we need to see what the characters believe, even if they’re not saying it out loud or speaking it. Because oftentimes, in these things, one character is being stoic and sort of holding back. There’s reasons why they’re not fully expressing themselves, but we as an audience have to have insight into what they’re actually really feeling inside there.

Aline: Something I think about a lot is that– because if you have a quieter movie, you can have a quieter ending. Past Lives is a very quiet movie with a beautifully quiet ending. ET, interestingly, which is one of my favorite movies that I’ve seen a lot, for a sci-fi movie, the level of relief on that is pretty low. Like, the enemy is Keys, it never really gets that heightened. I know that if you made that movie now, there would be a shootout, an interstellar shootout, there would be so much action packed into that end.

I think about that a lot, because anything that we’re working on that has a genre element, it just feels like it needs to get into a third act where there’s giant caterpillars invading from space that need to be shot. I do feel like that movie now, you’d get a lot of notes about making it huge. I would put this up there with Casablanca, for me, in terms of a merely really meaningful goodbye. I think it’s because the ’70s aesthetic was still at play there, where you could have these quieter movies. I really mourn that, because now it feels like that’s reserved for the smaller movies. In the bigger movies, if you’re not exhausted, on the ground with a pounding headache by the end of a sci-fi movie, they’ve not done their job.

[Episode 392]

John: Our big marquee topic I want to get into today is the final moment in movies, or I guess episodes of TV, but I’m really thinking more in movies. This came to mind this morning because there was an article talking about the end of Captain Marvel. This is not even really a spoiler, but at the end of the original version of Captain Marvel, she flew off into space, and they changed it so that she flew off into space with some other characters. It was an important change in sort of giving you a sense of where the character was headed next.

It got me thinking that in pretty much every movie I’ve written, that last moment, that last bit has changed from the pitch, to the screenplay, to the movie. I want to focus on why that moment is so important, and also why it tends to change so much.

Craig: Interesting. It’s funny, because for me, because I’m obsessed with that moment, it actually rarely doesn’t change. It doesn’t change much for me, but that’s in a sense because I think I weirdly start with it. I don’t know.

John: I start with it too. As I was thinking back to Aladdin, my pitch for it had a very specific runner that had a very definite end bit. When I pitched it to Disney, and also I just pitched it casually to Dana Fox, it made Dana Fox cry. That last line, the last image of that last moment, it’s not in the movie at all. It totally changed the ways that things change.

I would say even movies like Big Fish and other things which have been very much, we shot the script, those last moments, and sometimes the last image, really does change because it’s based on the experience of sitting through the whole movie and sort of where it’s delivered it to. Let’s talk about that last moment as a way of organizing your thoughts when you’re first thinking about the story, and then what it looks like at all the different stages.

Craig: Well, to start with, we have to ask what the purpose is. I think sometimes people think of the last shot in cinematic terms: somebody rides off into the sunset, so the last shot really is about sunsets, but of course, it’s not. For me, the final moment, the final shot, that last image contains the purpose of the entire thing. Everything comes down to that. If your movie was about the love between two people, then that is that final moment.

We’ve talked about Lindsay Doran’s TED Talk where she talks about how movies are really about relationships, and how when– She would cite how sometimes she would ask people, what was the last image of some movie, like Karate Kid? A lot of people don’t remember, it’s Mr. Miyagi’s face, proud. It’s Daniel, and then Mr. Miyagi, looking at each other, and there’s pride. Figuring out the purpose of that last shot is kind of your step one of determining what it’s supposed to be, and you can’t get there unless you know what the hell your whole movie is about in the first place.

John: Yes. I mean, movies are generally about a character taking a journey, a character leaving home and getting to someplace. But it’s also about the movie itself starting at a place and getting to a place. That destination is generally that last bit, that last moment, that last image, and so of course, you’re going to be thinking about that early on in the process, of where do you want to end up? Way back in Episode 100, there was a listener question, and someone asked us, “I have a couple of different ideas for movies, and I’m not sure which one I should start writing.” My answer was, you should pick the one with the best ending, because that’s the one you’ll actually finish.

If you start writing without having a clear sense of where you’re going to, you’re very likely to either stop writing it, or get really off-track and having to sort of strip away a lot of what you’ve done. Having a clear sense of, this is where I think the movie lands, is crucial. It’s like, “The plane is going to land on this runway.” It tells you, “Okay, I can do a bunch of different stuff, but ultimately, I have to make sure that I’m headed to that place.” You may not be signaling that even to the reader, to the audience, so that they’re not ahead of you, but you yourself have to know where this is going.

Craig: John, when you were in grade school and you had some sort of arts and crafts assignment, and the teacher said, “You need to draw a circle,” and you just have to draw a circle. You don’t have like a thing to trace. Were you a good circle drawer?

John: I was a fair circle drawer. I know it’s a very classic artistic lesson. It’s like, how to trust your hand to do the movements and how to think of what a circle is. Were you a good circle drawer?

Craig: No, absolutely horrendous. If you asked me to draw a circle, you would end up with some sort of unclosed cucumber. The reason I bring this up is because, to me, the classic narrative is a circle. We begin in a place, and we end in that same place. There is a full return. Of course, we are changed, but the ending reflects the beginning, and the beginning reflects the ending. There is a circle. If you don’t know your ending and you don’t know how the circle finishes, it’s quite probable that you won’t know how to start the circle either, that you will end up with an unclosed cucumber, like nine-year-old Craig Mazin attempting to draw someone’s head. This is how things go off. This is where I think people can easily get lost as they’re writing their script, because they realize that the story is developed in such a way that it wants to end somewhere, but it has really not a strong click connection to the beginning.

One of my favorite albums is Pink Floyd’s The Wall. Pink Floyd’s The Wall, [unintelligible 00:48:02]– they play little games, the Pink Floyd folks did. And one of the games they play in Pink Floyd’s The Wall is very low volume at the very beginning. You hear this tiny little song, and then someone says, “We came in.” Then at the very end, they’re playing the song, and it finishes, and then you hear someone say, “Isn’t this where?” That’s exactly the kind of thing that blows a 15-year-old boy’s mind. [chuckles]

But also, it was satisfying. You felt things were connected, and they chose to make the very last moment some sort of indication that the beginning is relevant. It’s the way, frankly, Watchmen ends. It’s the same thing. There’s this beautiful come-around with that last final look.

John: Now, because we’re talking about narrative circles, I need to acknowledge that Dan Harmon has this whole structure thing that’s based on a circle, where there’s a circle, and there’s these little lines across it that the characters go on this journey. That’s absolutely a valid approach if you want to think about a story that way. That’s not quite what we’re talking about. We’re talking about how, in general, a character leaves from a place and gets to a place, but in both cases, they’re either finding a new home or returning to a previous home changed.

Just a character walking around in a circle isn’t a story. A character being profoundly changed and coming to this environment with a new understanding, that is a change. And sometimes it won’t be that one character. Sometimes it’s that the narrative question you’ve asked at the beginning of the story has gone through all these permutations and landed you back at a place that lets you look at that question from a new way. So, it’s either answering the question or reframing the question in a way that is more meaningful. That’s what we’re talking about. Like, the narrative comes full circle. There’s a place that you were headed, and that place that you were headed reflects where you began.

Craig: No question. And it’s really clear to us how someone has changed when we put them back where they were when we met them. It’s just one of those things where you can say, “Oh, here’s the variable,” right? Where we begin is the control, our character is the variable. Start in the beginning, get me to the end, and let me see the difference. Sometimes it’s very profound. I mean, we start and end in the same place in Finding Nemo, but we can see how different it is in the same place because the variable has changed, and that’s your character.

John: I’m finishing the third Arlo Finch book right now, which is the end of the trilogy, and so each of the books has had that sense of like, okay, reflecting where the book began and where the book ended, and that there is a completion there. But it’s been fun to actually see the whole trilogy, and it’s like, okay, this is the journey that we’ve been on over the course of this year of Arlo Finch’s life. Yes, he’s physically in the same space, but he’s a completely different character in that same space, and has a different appreciation for what’s happened. As I’ve been able to go back to previous locations where things have happened, you see that his relationship to them is completely different because he’s a different character, having been changed by what’s gone on. That’s what we’re really talking about with that last bit and how the last bit has to reflect where the character started and what has happened to the character in their journey.

Craig: Yes. I mean, reading Arlo Finch, you would never expect that he would end up a savage murderer-

John: No.

Craig: -but he does, and that’s–

John: [chuckles] It’s really shocking for middle-grade fiction.

Craig: Well, it is, but then when you look back, you go, “Oh, yes, you know what? He was laying the groundwork for that [unintelligible 00:51:29]. Actually, it makes sense. He’s a nightmare.” Then there’s the Dark Finch trilogy that comes next– Oh, you know what? Dark Finch trilogy is not bad [crosstalk]–

John: Dark Finch sounds pretty good.

Craig: Yes, you should do it.

John: Yes. I think it’s going to be a crossover with Derek Haas’s books, about his assassin.

Craig: Oh, yes, Silver Bear.

John: Silver Bear, Dark Finch.

Craig: Silver Bear, Dark Finch. That sounds like a Sondheim lyric–

John: Oh, yes.

Craig: I love it. When I’m thinking about these last images, everybody has a different way of thinking about this, but what I try and do really is actually think about it in terms of a last emotion. What is it that I want to feel in the end? Do I want to feel comfort? Do I want to feel pride? Do I want to feel love? Do I want to feel hope? The movie that I worked on with Lindsay Doran, which is, I think my favorite feature script, and so, of course, it hasn’t been made. [chuckles] They make the other ones, not those.

The last shot, to me, was always an expression of the kind of bittersweet salute to the people who are gone. It’s a coming-of-age story, and the last shot, when I just thought about the emotion at the end, the emotion at the end was the kind of sad thankfulness for having known someone who’s no longer with you, and that’s– I go, “Okay, I can wrap myself in that. That feels like a good emotion,” and I know how that is reflected by the beginning. How you then express it, that can change-

John: For sure.

Craig: -and it often changes frequently. This is an area where I think movies sometimes fail, because the system of movies is designed to separate the writer and her intention from the actual outcome. A writer will have an intention like, “I want my movie to end with the bittersweet thankfulness for those who are no longer with us. That is my emotional intention, and here’s how I would execute it.” Nobody else sees the intention underneath, or they don’t understand it, and they just go, “Well, you know what? We don’t like necessarily the way they’re executing that. Let’s make a new execution. Let’s do this, let’s do that. Let’s make it noisy. Let’s make it loud. Let’s make it funny. Let’s make it–” and the intention is gone. Then you get to the movie, and you show it, and people go, “Well, the ending–” And you’re like, “Yes, the ending. That writer never really nailed the ending.” [chuckles] You see how it goes?

John: Yes.

Craig: It’s freaking brutal.

John: Yes. That’s never happened to me once in my career. Let’s talk about what that ending looks like in the different stages. In the pitch version of it, obviously, we’ve talked about in pitches that– I always describe it as like, you’re trying to convince your best friend to see this movie that you’ve seen that they’ve not seen. So really, you’re talking a lot about the characters, and how it starts, and you may simplify and summarize some things, especially in the second and third act about stuff, but you will tend to describe out that last moment, that last bit, because you’re really talking about, what is the takeaway experience going to be for a person who’s watched this movie that you’re hopefully going to be writing.

In the pitch, you’re going to have a description of what that last moment is, because that’s really important. It’s the reason why someone should say yes to reading your script, to buying your script, to hiring you to write that script. That last moment is almost always going to be there in the pitch, even if it’s not fully fleshed out, to give you a sense of what you want the audience and the reader to take away from reading the script.

Craig: What I’m thinking about in a room where I’m relaying something to somebody is, ultimately, I want to give them a fuzzy at the end. I want to give them some sort of fuzzy feeling. I don’t want to give them plot. If I finish off with plot– For instance, let’s say I’m in a room, and I’m pitching Star Wars. What I don’t want to do is get to the end and say, “In our last shot, our hero receives a medal, which he deserved.” What I want to talk about is how a kid– I would bring it back to the beginning and say, “This farm boy who didn’t know about this world beyond him, who didn’t know about The Force, who didn’t know about the fate of his father or the way he could maybe save the world, he is the one who saved the galaxy. And at last, he knows who he is.” See? Like some sort of sense of connected feeling to the beginning. If you’re selling plot at the end, then what you’re really selling is what Lindsay Doran calls the end that people think is the end, but not the actual end.

John: Let’s take your example of Star Wars, because you might pitch it that way, but then when it comes to writing the script, you actually have to write the scene that gets you that moment. As you’re writing that scene at the last moment, you’re looking at like, what is the medal ceremony like? Who’s there, what’s said, but most importantly, what is the emotional connection between those characters who are up there? Actually, painting out the world so we can see, “Okay, this is why it’s going to feel this way.” This is clearly the intention behind the scene, but also, I’m giving you the actual things you need to give us that feeling at the end. In the script stage, what was sort of a nebulous description of like, “This is what it’s going to feel like,” has to actually deliver on that promise.

Craig: Yes. I always wondered– I hate being the guy who’s like, would it be better if a movie that everybody loved ended like this? The last shot of Star Wars, it’s the medal ceremony, right? Then you have them looking at each other, and so the emotion is the relationships between them. I always wondered, what would happen if the last shot of Star Wars was Luke Skywalker returning back to Tatooine a different man, and kind of starting a new hope. That vibe of returning, I always wondered if I would feel more at the end if I saw him return.

John: I think it’s worth exploring. I think if you were to try to do that, though, it would just feel like one more bit. It would feel like the movie was over when he got the medal, and you had the swell, and you had– Whether the journey was, this is a kid [unintelligible 00:57:17] all on his own, who forms a new family, so like going back to where his dead family was, it wouldn’t feel like the kind of victory, so–

Craig: Dead family.

John: Dead family. I think you want to see his joy and excitement, rather than sort of the– I would imagine the music would be very different if he’d gone back to Tatooine. [crosstalk]–

Craig: Yes. It would be [unintelligible 00:57:38]– No, you’re right. I guess then the payload for that final bit is really the looks between Leia and Luke, and Han and Luke, that it’s, “We’re a family, we’re friends, we did it. We went through something nobody else understands.”

John: Let’s say you’ve written the script, you’ve gone into production, and you’ve– 100 days of production, there’s finally a cut, and you see that last moment in the film, and it’s different, or it doesn’t work, or the way you had it written as on the page doesn’t work. In my experience, it’s generally because the actual movie that you watched isn’t quite the movie that’s on the page, just naturally. As people are embodying those characters, things just feel different.

Obviously, some scenes get cut, things get moved around, and where you thought you were headed is not really where you’ve ended up, and so you have to make some change there. In some cases, it’s re-shoots. In some cases, you’re really shooting a new last scene, and you realize that this was not the moment that you thought we wanted to get to at the end. But in some cases, it’s just a matter of like, this shot versus that shot. Whose close-up are we ending on?

You talked about Mr. Miyagi. I bet they tried a bunch of different ways. It would make more sense to end on Daniel rather than Mr. Miyagi, but ultimately, Mr. Miyagi was the right choice. Thinking about like, what does the music feel like at this moment? How are we emotionally landing the payload here? The music’s going to be a big factor, so there’s going to be a lot of things conspiring to get that last image, that last moment of the movie, and you may not have been able to anticipate that on the page.

Craig: No question. This is why it’s really important for you to understand your intention. Because it may work out that your intention didn’t carry through in the plan, but if we know the intention, and we have married the beginning to the end, then the beginning has set up this inexorable domino effect. You have landed at the end, you require a feeling. Let’s see if we can make that feeling editorially a different way. If we can’t, okay, let’s go back and reconsider what it’s supposed to be.

In rare circumstances, you do get to a place where you realize, “Oh my God, having gone through this movie, it’s really about this. It turns out we care more about this than this. This relationship matters more than this relationship. Okay, so now we have to think of the beginning. Let’s recontextualize what our beginning means, and then let’s go ahead and fix an ending.” The ending can never be just, “You know what? It just needs to be more exciting.” That’s nonsense.

John: The danger is, a lot of times in test screenings, they’ll see like, “Okay, the numbers are a little bit low here and people dipped at the end, so let’s add some more razzmatazz to this last little bit, or like an extra thing.” Generally, people don’t want more. They don’t want bigger or more. They just want to actually exit the movie at the right time with the right emotion, and that’s the challenge.

Craig: Right. How do you leave them feeling, is the biggest.

John: Sometimes, though, the opposite holds true. Just this last week, I was watching a rough cut of a friend’s film, and he has this really remarkable last shot, and these two characters and their relationship has changed profoundly. But as I watched it, I was like, “Oh, that’s a really great last shot, last moment for kind of a different movie than I saw.” But when I looked at the movie I’d seen before, I was like, “Oh, yes, you could actually do some reconfiguring to get you to that moment and actually have it make sense.” It was really like talking about like, “This is where we get to at the end. I think you’re not starting at the right place, and so therefore, you may want to take a look at those first scenes and really change our expectations, and change what we’re following over the course of the movie. Because doing that, you could land at that place, and it would feel really meaningful.”

Craig: Again, the beginning is the end is the beginning, right? If something’s not working in that where your circle’s supposed to connect at, and you ended up with an open cucumber, then either the ending is wrong, or the beginning is wrong, or they’re both wrong, but it’s usually one or the other. It is, I think, tempting at times to say, “Well, since the ending is the last thing, everything else is the pyramid, and this thing sits on top of the pyramid, this is the easiest thing to fix.” John, you’re absolutely right, sometimes the easiest thing to fix is the beginning.

John: Yes. Change the expectations of the audience as they go into it, and you can get them there.

Craig: Right. Match them to where they’re going to arrive.

[Boilerplate]

John: That is our show for this week. Thank you, Drew Marquardt, our producer, for putting together this compendium, which was edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Eric Pearson. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. That is also the place where you can send questions like the ones we answered today. You’ll find transcripts at johnaugust.com, along with a signup for our weekly newsletter called Inneresting, which has lots of links to things about writing.

The Scriptnotes book is out and available wherever you buy books. You can go back and read the endings chapter and see what we pulled from these conversations into the book. You’ll find clips and other helpful video on our YouTube. Just search for Scriptnotes, and give us a follow. You can also find us on Instagram @scriptnotespodcast. We have T-shirts and hoodies and drinkware, you’ll find those at Cotton Bureau. You’ll find show notes with the links to all the things we talked about today in the email you get each week as a premium subscriber. Thank you again to our premium subscribers, you make it possible for us to do this each and every week. You can sign up to become one at scriptnotes.net, where you get all those back episodes and bonus segments like the one we’re about to record on casting minor characters. Drew, thanks for putting this episode together.

Drew: Of course. Thanks, John.

[Outro by Eric Pearson]

[singing]

My name is John August, I am captain of the Scriptnote

His name is John August, he is captain of the Scriptnote

We sail the open seas dispensing umbrage and reason, all things we have expertise in

Let me introduce you to Amazing Mr. Mazin

Let him introduce us to Amazing Mr. Mazin

He is worth his weight in gold, though I’ve never weighed him

Also, I have never paid him

Burp-burp-burp-burp

Burp-burp-burp-burp

My name– my name is Cre– Craig Fofeg Fanana Fana Fobleg–

Oh, get on with it, man.

My name is Craig Mazin.

[Bonus Segment]

John: All right, Drew. In our conversation with Drew Goddard, we were talking about his time on Buffy and Angel, and how it was often the job of the most junior writer on that staff to write up character sides, which I wasn’t clear was a thing that staff writers did, but makes a lot of sense.

Drew: I had no idea either. From my time as an actor, I’m thinking back to all those sides I got through that I was like, “oh, that’s why it wasn’t ever something that was in the show or in the movie.”

John: Talk me through this. Because you were often auditioning for shows, you were in the UK doing a lot of this, and you would get sides that had scenes that were not necessarily in the finished product.

Drew: Yes. Sometimes it’d be dummy sides from other shows or other things. Weirdly, the one that I can remember most is not one that I auditioned for, but a friend was doing a movie with a kid, and they were auditioning for this weird show that was going to be on Netflix about kids, and it’s like ’80s, and that kind of thing.

John: Oh, yes–

Drew: Yes. It was Stranger Things, and we were doing these sides with Anthony, and they were very specific. I remember watching Stranger Things and being like, “This wasn’t the scene that we did, but it’s close enough.” It’s like, oh, well, things change in production, but maybe it was something completely different.

John: Yes, and so the idea behind this– and this is a thing I’ve done in features a fair amount, is you will have a character who may only have three or four lines in a thing, but they’re crucial. Like, the camera’s going to be on them. You want to cast the right person, but if you just gave them those three or four lines, there’s no runway. There’s no building up.

There’s no beginning, middle, end. You’re not seeing a range in there. They have a face, they have a body, they can say these lines, and it’s really hard to do. And so what you’ll end up doing is writing longer scenes that actually give you a chance to hear their voice, really get to see what they can do. I’m thinking right now for Go, the character of Manny, who’s played by Nathan Bexton in the movie, he’s in a bunch of scenes and has important things to do, but he’s always the third most important character in those scenes. And so, I needed to give him basically a monologue where he could just do the character as himself.

Drew: For some of those characters, is it more important to see if they can hit the big beats that you need them to, or to see how they handle the shoe leather of it all, kind of?

John: What I need, if they’re just a functional role, so if they’re like the police officer in a thing, give them some yada-yada– do I believe them as a police officer? Otherwise, it’ll not work. For something like Mannie, you needed to see like they had a personality– How he could fit in that car with those two women, what is that vibe going to be like? I needed to give him just like much more space, and so give a sense of humor, what’s driving him, what’s motivating him. In a weird way, you’re also kind of helping that actor if they get the role, have a sense of who that character really is beyond the borders of just that one little scene that they’re in.

Drew: I feel like there was recently– Someone put out their audition tape, and then– it was a woman. She auditioned for a thing, and then she showed the finished product. She made bigger choices in the audition tape than I felt like she was doing in the thing, which they’re two different skills, aren’t they? Like, auditioning and showing what you can do there. Are you ever like, “That was a really great choice, and I’m going to adopt that”? Or is it usually like, “Great, they can go that far, but we know exactly what we want”?

John: Honestly, they’re two different things slightly, because there’s the audition tape where it’s just the actor without any coaching just delivering a thing, and that’s a situation where playing big is probably the right choice. Because if you play small and you’re not getting them where they want to go, they may not reach out to you again. They always feel like they can reign you back in rather than make you get bigger.

Drew: That makes sense.

John: It’s harder to negotiate bigger, but a lot of these scenes that I was writing, especially with Go, we had people coming in and physically auditioning in front of us, and giving more space there meant that we could actually direct you towards this thing versus that thing. There was a show that I was doing with Jordan Mechner that we never ended up shooting the pilot, but we went through a lot of casting on it, and the sides we built for that showed two different aspects of the character. It gave us enough space where we could say like, “Could you try that with your real accent? You’re trying to hide a British accent there, try to hit us with your real accent.” It just gave some space there. If it was just story, story, story, that’s not going to be helpful.

Drew: I do feel like finding the right people for those smaller parts is so important. Me and our friend Nima Yousefi were talking– he’s rewatching Mad Men, and I’ve seen that show a million times. We were just talking about it, and he has a theory that Mad Men doesn’t work without the character of Joan, and specifically, if Christina Hendricks is not cast as Joan. And I think he’s right. Like, she’s obviously a huge part of the series. She starts out sort of as a peripheral character, and I don’t think it has the same– it’s not the same show without her.

Whereas some of the big leads, the Jon Hamm characters, anyone could play that. It’s hard to think of someone else doing that, but that’s a type you can get a strong leading man, and even the Peggies and stuff like that. This is being very specific to Mad Men. Those smaller characters, getting that right, I think informs the tone and the flavor of your movie or your TV show in a way that it’s fundamentally different without them. I don’t know, is that overwhelming at all that you’re trying to find the right person, or do you just [crosstalk]?

John: Yes. I mean, this is going to be the first year where we have the casting awards for the Oscars, and casting is so fundamental. As writers, you’re creating these characters in your head, and you’re putting them on paper, but then they get assigned off one by one to people without your control a lot of times. And so, if you have the ability to write scenes that are designed to showcase what is special about this character, what it is that is going to be unique about this character, it’s another opportunity to steer the ship in the right direction from the page.

Drew: Yes, that makes sense.

John: Yes. I love it when people share their casting sides, you know. Listen, I’m not a fan of actors showing their auditions for things when someone else got it, or their better auditions for things. That’s not helpful, but I do love seeing the process behind it, and it’s great to see, this is the person’s audition tape, and this is them actually doing the part. That, I think, is really helpful. If it’s smaller than their audition, it’s probably because they were directed smaller, or because it’s just what actually fits in the story overall. As an actor coming in, you often don’t know what the whole shape of it is. You’re just getting these pages, and if those pages can give you some sense of who that character is beyond just those lines, that’s helpful.

Drew: My favorite pages I ever got was for when I did Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit. Part of it is because David Koepp wrote that script, and that script was fantastic, but it was very active. My character was like going through boxes, and you’re trying to find a needle in the haystack with papers. It just gave me something to do, and I feel like that was such a gift. I feel like most things are just talky, and I think if you can do that for actors, you’re going to get a lot cooler stuff.

John: The other thing I would stress, and this is a thing that casting directors will often put together their scene, they’ll do like cut-and-paste versions of scenes to get this down, is to minimize the other person talking. And so, the theater lines, just to get rid of that, so it’s as much as possible, the person auditioning is driving the scene. Yes, there should be some moments where you’re seeing them react and listen, because active listening is important, they’re not just waiting for their time to talk, but they need to be the main person on camera, or main person in the scene, because they’re the only ones we’re supposed to be paying attention to.

There’s that cliche which happens in a lot of movies you see, where it’s like, oh, this person came in to read lines opposite somebody, but then they got cast as the thing. Sure, it happens some. I’m sure that there’s some anecdotal [unintelligible 01:12:09] truth to that, but that’s not the point in well-written scenes that the off-screen person, you wouldn’t have heard very often.

Drew: Yes, it can make a huge difference, whether those sides are good or just words.

John: Yes. Even if you’re just writing something small for yourself to shoot with people, it’s a good idea to be thinking about, what are the casting sides that are going to help me find the best actors for this? It could just be a weekend short film, it still helps.

Drew: Thanks, Drew Goddard, for bringing that up, and to you for talking more about that.

John: Yes. All right. And thanks, Drew, for putting this episode together.

Drew: Yes. Thanks, John.

Links:

  • Our first endings compendium, Episode 524 – The Home Stretch
  • A video essay of our farewell scenes discussion with Aline Brosh McKenna
  • Episodes 44 – Endings for beginners, 366 – Tying Things Up, 648 – Farewell Scenes, and 392 – The Final Moment
  • Dan Harmon story circle
  • Get your copy of the Scriptnotes book!
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Become a Scriptnotes Premium member, or gift a subscription
  • Subscribe to Scriptnotes on YouTube
  • Scriptnotes on Instagram and TikTok
  • John August on Bluesky and Instagram
  • Outro by Eric Pearson (send us yours!)
  • Segments originally produced by Stuart Friedel, Megan McDonnell, Drew Marquardt and Megana Rao. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

Scriptnotes, Episode 728: Beats to Scenes with Drew Goddard, Transcript

March 18, 2026 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hello and welcome. My name is John August, and you’re listening to Episode 728 of Scriptnotes. It’s a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

What is the basic unit of story? In the outline and treatment phase, it’s probably the beat, whereas in the script is the scene. As film and TV writers, how do we move from beats to scenes? I’d argue it’s perhaps the fundamental skill in our craft.

Today on the show, we welcome back a guest to help us to discuss this transformational process. Drew Goddard is a writer whose credits include Cloverfield, Cabin in the Woods, The Martian, Bad Times at the El Royale, Daredevil, High Potential, and a new film, Project Hail Mary, which is absolutely fantastic, Drew, and I got to say this last week. This is coming out, presumably, in a period of time where the embargo is off, so we can say how good it is. Congratulations. Welcome back, Drew.

Drew Goddard: I’m so happy to be back. Thank you for having me, John.

John: It will not be confusing at all that you are both named Drews, Drew Goddard and Drew Marquardt.

Drew Goddard: We’re interchangeable. All of the Drews, we’re like the board. We can just move one Drew into another Drew.

Drew Marquardt: Were you ever an Andy?

Drew Goddard: I never was an Andy.

Drew Marquardt: All right. Good.

Drew Goddard: That’s right. An Andy, of course, wrote The Martian.

John: Andy Weir, yes.

Drew Goddard: Are you an Andrew or did you start Drew?

Drew Marquardt: I started Drew. I’m full Andrew, but always Drew.

Drew Goddard: Great.

John: It’s always confusing when our business manager will say, “Well, Andrew does a thing.” Like, “Who is Andrew? Who is this person?” There are other times where I’ll be talking to my husband about Drew, and it’s like, “Is that Drew Barrymore? Is that Drew Marquardt? Which Drew is that?” It’s the list of Drews.

Drew Goddard: Again, all interchangeable.

John: All the same. On this podcast, Drew Goddard, I want to talk about this movie, obviously, but writing, your career in general, and we have some listener questions that I think are going to be perfect for you.

Drew Goddard: Let’s do it.

John: In our bonus segment for premium members, I’d love to talk about TV because you grew up in TV. You still do TV. You have one of the recent hit broadcast shows, so I want to talk about the future of television with you.

Drew Goddard: Let’s do it.

John: We’ll solve it. For listeners who have been longtime subscribers to the podcast, you were on the show in 2015, but it was a bonus episode. It wasn’t part of the main feed. I think we referenced it before. Did we ever rerun the whole episode?

Drew Marquardt: I don’t think we have.

John: Maybe we should do that at some point when we need to.

Drew Goddard: Please don’t. Let’s go with this one.

John: Let’s briefly recap because you grew up in Los Alamos. You had a transformational experience with Olympia Dukakis upon arriving in Los Angeles.

Drew Goddard: That was actually in Santa Fe.

John: Santa Fe, all right.

Drew Goddard: I was a PA on a movie called Scattering Dad With Andy Griffith and Olympia Dukakis, and I almost bled to death on her porch. We don’t have to get into that. We can just breeze past that detail.

John: People should listen to the other episode where we go into further depth on that. Upon arriving in Los Angeles, I remember that you were working on Buffy in a period of creative crisis, and were able to contribute at a meaningful time, which is an experience which is true for myself and a lot of other people. It’s like when things are going great, sometimes it’s hard to get your way in, but you were able to help out in a pinch.

Drew Goddard: I think that’s the case. I think that in TV in particular, there’s a lot of crises. There’s a lot of crises constantly happening. I think I dropped in at a time where it was like I was young. You’re like, “Oh, I’ll stay and work 24 hours a day. This doesn’t seem strange to me. This is what I want to be doing.” I think that that has opened doors for me to learn there’s just no better experience than just doing it.

John: Absolutely. Let’s talk about the just doing it because our main topic I want to get into is beats versus scenes. Let’s talk about, what do you think about with a beat? Because there’s the outlining kind of beat, that sort of unit of story, but there’s also beats within scenes. You’re planning a story. You’re planning an adaptation of The Martian or Project Hail Mary. What is a beat when you’re talking about that level of granularity?

Drew Goddard: By the way, I’m so glad we’re talking about this because this is, not to just jump into Drew’s speeches in the writers room, but you’re going to hear what I talk about a lot because I do believe our job is to make scenes. At the end of the day, the thing that differentiates us as screenwriters are scenes. I see it a lot with young writers is they will come into writers room, and they’ll have beautiful grand ideas about what this needs to be about, what the themes are, all these wonderful things that you want from writers. At some point it will get very quiet, and one of the upper level people go, “Yes, but what’s the scene? What is the scene?”

That’s what we’re here to do, is figure out, how do we shape this scene? Jumping in, I think beats to me are just moments. My process is very much, whether it’s an adaptation or not, I tend to just start with moments that I respond to. It could be big or it could be small. It could be just, “Oh, I like when he said that thing to her.” It could be, “Oh my God, this giant story turn. I’ll put them on a board,” and I’ll just start noting them. Then at a certain point, I’ll go, “I have enough beats,” or just things that I like just to make it simple and go, “Okay, let’s start trying to put scenes together.” Then that takes a while.

Then at a certain point, I’ll go, “I have enough scenes to start thinking about structure.” It builds out. That could take, in the case of something like bad times, years. We’re describing years of my life as I would just put, “Oh, here’s a moment. All right. I don’t have no idea how these things will stitch together, but I like this.” I find myself drawn to this moment over and over.

John: When you’re talking about these moments, they could actually be pretty big. They could be set pieces. They could be sequences rather than scenes. They’re pretty big ideas. These are the big note cards on the board. To achieve the goals of that big note card, it’s a bunch of smaller moments that actually get there. Something that Sorkin talks about is that when there’s an obstacle that forces a new tactic, that’s a beat. Basically, when you see a character make a choice, make a change, do a thing, the story has changed because of this incident, that is a beat.

That’s the granular, smaller version of that. Starting from this big picture of these are the giant tentpole moments, you’re getting the smaller moments that are building up to those bigger things.

Drew Goddard: I love that. He sounds smart.

John: He does sound smart.

Drew Goddard: Sorkin or something?

John: Yes, Aaron Sorkin.

Drew Goddard: Let me jot that down.

John: With two As.

Drew Goddard: Oh, got it.

John: Seems smart. Let’s go back to the writer’s room, though, because this is where you’ll often find beats being discussed. We’re talking about beat sheets also, which is basically the very rough bullet point outline of what’s going to happen in the course of an act or a movie or a script. What are you looking for in a beat? What’s going up on the board? How much are you breaking that? How granular are you trying to get?

Drew Goddard: There’s no right answer. There’s no wrong answer. It’s like you just start shaping. Let me think. There was a Daredevil episode. Here’s a good example of how this starts. The second episode of Daredevil, which is one of the scripts I’m most proud of that I’ve done, on the board, we were just brainstorming ideas. I wrote Matt in dumpster. That’s it. That was the beat. Matt in dumpster. We go, “What is that?” I’m like, “I don’t know, but I like the idea of starting an episode early with our main character nearly beaten to death in a dumpster, and let’s just see.” That beat goes on the board. It’s not a scene yet. We don’t even know what we’re doing here. It’s just, “This sounds interesting.”

You put it on the board, and you think about it. It does start to beg the questions like, “How did he get there? What happens next? Who’s going to find him?” Now we’re starting to shape it. Now we’re starting to start asking questions that connect. “Oh, if somebody finds him, that is going to suggest the scene.” On its core level, this is how we’re building story. Really, when I’m saying, “Yes, but what’s the scene?” What I’m really saying is, “What are the actors going to do?” Because I know, having done this a long time, that’s really what this is about.
We need to figure out what are the actors going to do. You are going to be called to the carpet over and over and over about, “What are the actors going to do here?” You start to just start to build and build things around that very question.

John: It’s, what are the actors going to do? Also, where is the camera? What are we looking at? What is the sequence of events in it? We’re talking about adapting books, but I’ve written many books myself, and those books have beats in them. They don’t have scenes, per se. There’s sections where you’re in one continuous moment of time, and there’s beats that happen within them, but it’s not the same as what a screenwriter does in the sense of there being an actual scene that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, which I guess we have to define what a scene is. A scene does have a start and an end.

While it’s something that could change in the editing, it has a point of view on, “This is where we’re coming into it. This is what happens during the middle of it. This is how it exits. It should exit with a different energy than it started.” That’s the crucial fundamental thing. Your writer’s room could come up with a list of, “These are the beats,” but then you still have to transform those beats into actual scenes.

Drew Goddard: Yes. Part of it, and then to make it even more difficult, you need to make the scenes have a relation to each other. Each scene has to inform the next scene. It doesn’t have to, but it’s helpful if it does. I’m glad you brought up the visual part of it, because one of the most important things that happened to me, this was at Buffy and Angel, I turned in an early script. I think my scripts early on were very sparse description. I remember reading things like, “Don’t know, leave that to the director, leave that to the director.” I turn in the script, and Jeff Bell, who was a wonderful writer and very important to my growth, said, “Okay, but where’s the camera in this scene?”

He made me talk about where the camera is. It wasn’t in a way of direct this because we have directors, but it’s like you as the writer, I want you to think about how this is actually happening. Is it important to you in this scene what we’re focusing on? If it is, we’ve got to figure out a way to put that on the page. If it’s not, that’s okay, too. You don’t want to force it. There are places where you want to let the directors play, but if you know, “No, this is a living, breathing organism. We are making a document for 300 people to figure out how to make this show,” and your job is to direct their attention to what matters for you so that they can go be the best versions of themselves as artists. It took me a while to understand that, but I think they all tie together with what you’re talking about.

John: Going from Buffy to Angel and other early TV experiences to working on Daredevil, working on High Potential, how detailed do you like the beat planning to be? Is it a several-page beat sheet? Is it a detailed outline? What do you like before you start writing scripts?

Drew Goddard: Part of this is just my own, what works for me. Part of this is, it started on Buffy, where we would spend, if you have a pie chart of how much time a script takes, you would spend 90% working on the story and getting it, not even the outline, just getting the board to a place where you can defend every moment, and you can tell production, “Here’s what we’re doing.” What it did was it allowed you, when you started writing, to actually be more free, if that makes sense. I think there was this thought, and part of this is TV. Part of this is the grind of every 8 days you need 60 pages.

In order to do that and do that in a way that you can keep that train moving, you have to be very clear about what you’re shooting early. That got deeply instilled. There’s no better training than having to do that 22 times each year, 22 times each year, and then in Lost, you get to Lost, it’s 24 times each year. That’s an insane amount of pages, an insane amount of beats that have to become scenes. That, really, I’ve internalized that almost to a depressing degree, whereas I will work on beat sheets or outlines for years. I will do 50 because the goal for me, I don’t like to do lots of drafts. I think it’s much easier to be ruthless when it’s in beat sheet form.

John: When you don’t have sharp characters saying [crosstalk]–

Drew Goddard: You don’t have characters and you don’t have things that you fall in love, you don’t have these moments that have taken this become living and breathing. I fall in love with these things, and it’s harder for me, but when in beat sheet form, it’s like, “We’re great, we’re done. Let’s cut it, let’s try it. Let’s try this other thing.” I can be much more free creatively, and so I will do, and I force, there’s an amount of time, especially in the feature world, where they’re like, “Just do a draft, just do a draft, and let’s just start this.” I’m like, “Absolutely not.”

To me, the hardest part is we need to get to a place where we all agree what we’re doing so that then I can go be playful. If I try to be too playful too early, we’re going to end up not making something.

John: I absolutely hear that and want to protect that as an idea. I will say, to give the other side of this argument, is that sometimes you do, it’s actually writing scenes that you discover what your story is, and who the characters are. You actually hear all of it together. We had Katie Silverman on the podcast, and she was talking about how before she starts writing something, she will write a bunch of scenes with these characters that don’t have to actually fit into the movie so she knows what they are.

Drew Goddard: I do that too. I love doing that. I used to. Part of that came from TV where the job nobody wanted was, “Oh, you got to write sides. You got to write sides for the actor.”

John: Tell me about side scene for that, for casting.

Drew Goddard: For casting. If we know, and usually you have to start that process before you have a script in TV. What happens is whoever’s writing the script is not going to do the sides. They’ll say it usually gets dumped to a lower-level writer. Like, “Will you go write a three-page scene that will showcase this character in three pages?”

John: “Make sure that we’re getting the tone that we want, what it feels like.”

Drew Goddard: Exactly. Make it hard. Make it really difficult so that you can see it. In the case of almost everything I work on, make it funny and make it break your heart in three pages. Make it over and over. I got dumped on a lot as a lower-level. I grumbled about it at first, and then I started to really love it.

John: Of course. I would love that too.

Drew Goddard: Oh my God.

John: The stakes are weirdly high and low at the same time.

Drew Goddard: Once you start having fun, you can throw crazy shit in there. You’re just like, “Oh my God, a tentacle comes out of nowhere and eats the person,” because you’re never going to shoot it. It’s fun when you’re in the room. All of the bad times in the casting process for that, all of those scenes are delightful because you’re free in a way you’re never free, because you’re like, “We’re never going to shoot this. Let’s just make it fun for the room.”

John: Then the actors are always weirdly disappointed when they get the actual script. They’re like, “Wait, I think I did. I wasn’t even there.”

Drew Goddard: That was Cabin in the Woods, by the way. Cabin in the Woods. If you can imagine how crazy we went in that movie, the sides were 100 times crazier. Then they would come up, Hemsworth would be like, “What about that?” The scenes I was doing, I was so excited for that. Like, “I know we can’t do that part.”

John: It was never going to be part of. It was all, it was bait-and-switch.

Drew Goddard: That’s part of it. No, I preface this by saying there’s no right answer here. I know friends who will do 30 drafts. They will constantly be doing draft after draft and they find it that way.

John: Scott Frank overwrites, and then has to cut back down, and overwrites.

Drew Goddard: To be fair, when I’m doing the beat sheets, outlining, I’m doing a version of that. On Lost, Our outlines ran longer than the scripts, which is really hard to do.

John: That’s crazy. That’s really hard to do.

Drew Goddard: It’s really hard to do because we were still in screenplay format, but without dialogue.

John: They’re scripting?

Drew Goddard: Yes, but to go longer than the script without dialogue is insane.

John: That’s crazy. That’s wild.

Drew Goddard: That’s not something we’re proud of. You would learn be detailed is the point. When I say outline, they’re functioning as drafts.

John: You have this incredibly detailed beat sheet or outline, but there’s still a fundamental skill of going from that to, “This is really what it’s going to feel like.” I guess you’re capturing some of what it feels like in that outline, but it’s the specifics of what the characters are saying, how they’re interacting with stuff, which line comes first. Are your outlines that detailed that it’s essentially a script but in a prosy form?

Drew Goddard: Sometimes or some scenes are. If I know a scene’s really hard or very technical, I don’t want to be doing anything other than having fun when I’m writing. I will do the hard parts. If I’m like, “Oh boy, I don’t understand,” like with Project Hail Mary, the scientific concept, I don’t want to be sitting there trying to write the scene because I hand write everything. I don’t want to be sitting there trying to figure out the science part. Knowing that I’m making outlines for myself, I’m doing the work so that I don’t have to worry about that part. Like, “Oh, I better detail out the beats of this part.”

If I know the emotional point of the scene, that’s enough. Then I’ll get real simple. Like, “Oh, this is what he’s going through, this is what–” Because I know that will be fun to write, and I don’t have to worry about it. It’s really for me. By the way, we should talk, part of this is an outline for me to write as the writer. Then there’s also the part that you need to do to convince everyone to let you do this. Those are two separate things. I’m looking at it both ways. In that case, what I just described, I probably wouldn’t put all the scientific stuff in there.

If I’m doing this to get people to sign off, whether it’s our directors, whether it’s the studio, whether it’s our producers, in that case, I’m just saying, “Here’s what the story is. Let’s just walk you through the basics of the story. Here’s the point of the scene,” if that makes sense.

John: It does. It’s helping me understand something I’ve never really gotten about TV writing, and TV writing with rooms for especially network is, you do all this work to create these incredibly-detailed outlines and sheets, and then you get approvals on those, and then someone goes off to draft. It seems like going off to draft, it’s a short process and surprisingly simple. I always think, “Oh, well, to often write a draft, I must take three weeks.” It’s like, no, actually, if it was a really detailed outline, it could be incredibly quick because you know exactly what’s in there.

Drew Goddard: I wish that was true.

John: You wish that were true. Okay, yes.

Drew Goddard: Every writer that’s gone through this is mad at you for saying that right now, because, invariably, you then get it off the board, you get the outline, and then you’re sitting with that blank screen or page in front of you, and you’re like, “Oh, God, none of this works. None of this works? What was I thinking?”

John: When none of it works, is it the stuff within the scenes that’s not working or is it the flow from scene to scene to scene, or both?

Drew Goddard: Or both, or just like you start to question your own existential reason for writing this script. That happens a lot where you’re like, “Why did we think this was a good idea as a group?” Sometimes you need just the emotional support. That’s the other reason writer’s rooms are helpful of like, “No, no, no, no. We all know what it feels like to panic,” because that’s the other problem. I would get anything for reads. I think the average, Buffy was four days. Same with Lost, four days. Again, not a good way to do this. I’m not suggesting this.

One of the nice things about how we’ve moved the model from 24 episodes to 8 or 10 is you do have more time. It is the grind of being so far behind, but there’s benefits of that part, too, because you also go, “Oh, I can’t second guess it. Let’s just go.” The beats are not so much dialogue-based. As you know, dialogue’s also really hard in which you want to do it well. Then if you get into that stuff, you’re trying to shape it. No stage is easy. There’s never an easy part of the process.

John: Now, as a showrunner, you’ve had situations where you’ve figured out a whole episode on the board, you’ve transferred that down into a written document, you’ve assigned it off to a writer, and then that writer is struggling, or that writer’s having a hard time doing it. What is the conversation with that writer who’s having a hard time going from, “This works as an outline,” to, “This is working as a script,” what do you do?

Drew Goddard: I start from a place of compassion because I’ve been in that writer’s shoes. I just have the amount of times I was having a nervous breakdown. I remember early some of my showrunners saying things like, “It’s okay. You might wipe out. It’s okay. That’s why we do it this way. We do it this way so if you wipe out, we are all clear on the story, too.” Whoever’s the show writer is, “I’m clear on this too.” It takes the pressure off of, this doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, it’s not going to be perfect. In fact, there’s things that we thought we wanted that you are going to write, and by you writing them, we’re going to realize, “Oh, that’s wrong.”

John: It wasn’t necessarily their bad execution, it wasn’t a good one.

Drew Goddard: It was like, “Oh, this is what it is.” I think it’s important for writers to hear that. I do think that the fear of failure is one of the great things that stops us in our tracks and can really paralyze us as writers. By the way, as artists, with actors, too, with any of the artists, is why when I’m directing, I want to take fear of failure off the board. In fact, say, “Failure is actually a wonderful part of the process. If we’re not screwing something up, it means we’re not pushing the boundaries hard enough, we’re not trying to.” I think especially when you’re early and you haven’t worked with people before, it’s really important to let them know, “It’s okay. It’s not going to be perfect. This is really hard, what we’re doing, and we are going to get there. We’re all safety nets for each other.”

John: Advice to a staff writer who, for the first time, is taking this document and turning it into the script, how faithful should you try to be to what that was? Is it your own discovery process? When do you need to check in with the show runner if it’s something that maybe it’s not working? Or do you just try it and deliver it? What’s the best way to do it?

Drew Goddard: I think the important thing is before you go to draft, start developing the skill of trying to figure out what’s important to the show runner. Every show runner’s different, and it’s not always clear, because you also have passionate people in a writer’s room who have their own points of view of what’s important. The show runner’s the person that’s going to have to arbitrate all of this. You really want to get a sense of, “Oh, this scene is really important to the showrunner. The show runner, she’s pitched this exact line of dialogue every single time we’ve talked about this. “That line, I better put in.” “This place, she’s adrift. Let me play around here.”

That’s what you’re looking for, you’re listening in. If you’re unclear, talk to the show runner. Say, “I’m not sure about this.” Hopefully, your show runner will be able to talk through this a little bit.

John: All of this is built around the classic broadcast model where the writers were employed in a room during this entire time, and therefore have a lot more exposure to the show runner now that we’re getting onto shows that will have a 10-week development room, and then maybe another 10 weeks to actually do the thing. There’s less time around that writer to get that stuff. That must be a real challenge for getting a sense of what the showrunner wants, and needs, and how the whole thing is going to fit together and work.

Drew Goddard: It’s not ideal. It’s not. It falls upon showrunners to carve it out and do what best they can to get as much time with the writers as possible. It’s a struggle we’re all going through, but it’s crucial. It’s crucial.

John: How do you as a showrunner decide which of the writers in the room is the right person to do a given episode? Is it the one that you see that they spark most closely to, that they do it, or is it just, it’s now we’re rotating through, and it’s now this person’s turn?

Drew Goddard: It’s a little of all of the above and every show’s a little different. Part of the reason I got so much experience so quickly at Buffy is they went in the order of seniority. There’s a reason for that, is that then the seniority leaves to do an episode so that they can come back when it’s time for the younger writers in the room to be there. It cycles. What happened at Buffy was suddenly everyone either had to go off on script or had babies. Suddenly, it was just me by myself. It was like, “Oh, come to set, work with the showrunners on set, and just learn how to do this because there’s nobody else. Everyone’s gone.” I don’t know that that was ideal.

Part of it is weirdly the math of, “Well, if that person’s off on script, who’s in breaking the story? Who’s figuring that part out?” Which is in the back of your head as a showrunner, because you know as a showrunner, you’re going to get pulled 100 directions, and you need to know who’s in the room because some people are really good. It just comes with experience, frankly, at breaking story. You don’t want to abandon the younger writers in there. You can find what makes the most sense, and there’s no right or wrong answer.

John: There are, classically, some shows that they have writers on staff and they are never in a room together. They work on everything separately. There’s different ways that different shows work, and you have to understand what your show is. We’ve been talking a lot about TV, but I want to talk about features. Beats and features are just as crucial, and yet there’s not a room. It’s just you. Can we talk about The Martian, because we actually have pages from The Martian. Just available for us here. We’re looking at pages 12 through 14 of The Martian.

What’s happened in this section is the rocket has taken off without our hero, without Matt Damon. He’s announced that Mark Watney is dead. The Earth has announced that Mark Watney is dead. Then we’re back on Mars and we find that, oh, Mark Watney is not dead. He was just passed out, and is needed to go back to the base. He realizes he’s alone on Mars. Can you talk to me about your experience of reading this sequence in Andy Weir’s book? Let’s talk about what the beats were in the book. Then we can look at specifically how you’re implementing this, where the camera is in trying to tell the story.

In the book, I read Project Hail Mary, but I did not read The Martian. Is it a third person? Is it as a neutral POV on the thing, or is it all from his point of view?

Drew Goddard: All from his point of view.

John: This is very different. Even though it’s a very close third person to the movie, it’s a different experience. Tell me about reading it in the book, and then how we got here.

Drew Goddard: At least I should say, this part is all from the first part, because then it does shift as we start getting back to Earth. When I look at it, it’s funny because this was the original opening to the movie. If you look at it, what I’m trying to do is start, and this is the way the book starts, which is a guy wakes up, injured on Mars, which I always thought was delightful.

I was like, “Oh, this is a wonderful way to begin a movie,” right? If you look at this, what I’m trying to do here is find the moments, okay, he’s going to wake up, and slowly but surely, you’re trying to look at the beats of the scene. He looks down, he sees a jagged length of antenna in his abdomen, right? We’re telling a story, we’re building the mystery of what the hell happened to this guy, right? At a certain point, I realized I need some context for this, which made the previous scene necessary. I was like, “Oh, it’s too much, I’m throwing too much.”

What I need to know, the sentence that I need to, which is the end of the first scene is, “But Mark Watney is dead,” I need the audience to know that the man they’re about to meet, the world thinks is dead. I think that’s really important to this next part, because then you’re building this sort of mystery of what the hell happened, but also, I try to be emotion first and foremost, right?

I want the audience to understand just how lonely this man’s about to become, because, it’s one thing to survive on the planet, it’s another thing that the world doesn’t know you’re alive yet. I feel like that was a crucial part of this movie.

John: You had to backfill and to get up to like, well, how do you actually get to that press conference? They actually need to see the sequence, so we need to spend tens of millions of dollars for this whole sequence of the escape from Mars and why he’s left.

Drew Goddard: What we did, that sequence was in the middle of the movie. That sequence was in the middle.

John: You’re saying that this sequence was originally in the middle of the movie in your early drafts or in early things you handed into people?

Drew Goddard: No, all the way through shooting.

John: Oh, wow, crazy.

Drew Goddard: All the way through shooting, including the first couple cuts. This sequence was in the middle of the movie. The sequence that showed what happened to Mark before was in the middle of the movie, and it was delightful. There was a building of like, “Oh, I want to see what happened.” “Oh, we’re finally going to show you what happened,” and it worked. Then Ridley at some point calls me and he says, “You’re going to hate this.” Because we had talked about this a lot. He’s like, “Can I just show you a cut of the movie where we moved that before?”

He was really nice because he wasn’t sure himself. It wasn’t like he was demanding. He was like, “Well, you just watch. Let’s just watch and see.” I was grumbling thinking this is not going to work for all these reasons. It’s going to ruin all this beautiful tension I have created. Then we watched it and I was like, “Oh, it’s better. It’s just better.” You just felt it. You’re like, “Oh, I like this.”

John: By the way, the reveal of things later on, of course, the movies, is what you end up doing in Project Hail Mary so successfully. The whole movie is built around that, which is not the mystery engine of this. The mystery engine of Hail Mary is, why is he there by himself in space? Getting to that point is built up throughout the whole course of the movie. This was a one-off.

Drew Goddard: It’s a good lesson of nothing ever really dies. If I can’t do something in one place, it’ll work its way back in. If I really want to try something like that, and we definitely found our places in Hail Mary.

John: Yes. The writing and the sequence is great. The reason why I picked this is because there’s essentially no dialogue. It’s a great way to show like, “Oh, scenes are not just dialogue. Scenes are what characters are doing, the obstacles, the challenges, and how they move past, the choices that they make.” We are seeing him wake up on the surface of Mars, realize that this piece of antenna is piercing his spacesuit, getting back to the airlock into the base, trying to treat his wound, and realizing, “Oh, crap, I am alone,” and then we smash cut to the title, The Martian.

Drew Goddard: It means a lot. You say that it’s fun looking at this, because I do take scenes seriously when there’s no dialogue in them. I really feel like that’s one of the things that separates good from great in screenplays because nobody wants to read blocks of texts. There’s something in your brain, especially in a screenplay form, that you’re used to how quickly it moves. I work, even just looking at this now, which I haven’t looked at in 10 years.

John: It’s well done. There’s a reason why you should have gotten an Oscar nomination for it, and you did.

Drew Goddard: Bless you, John. If people are trying to learn, without even reading the words, you can sit back and look at the page and see, “Oh, there’s dense words in certain parts, we’re taking space,” and those words are, “Here’s the character’s name, here’s the thing the person’s going through.” I’m using italics sparsely.

John: You’re using italics, though, just to show what the internal mental state is. The thing that we could see as an audience, we could register that on his face, but you need to stick it there on the page that as a reader, we get it.

Drew Goddard: If you look, what I’m trying to do is actually make the reader complicit in this. I’m trying to make the reader the main character. These are the main character’s thoughts when I’m going into italics that are, in some cases, that are putting you in his place, which I find is very effective, especially if you’re trying to get people on board doing this. Something that, long sequences without dialogue, it really helps to have a point of view.

John: Things like, on page 13, in parentheses, this is not exactly going to be easy to watch. Yes, and that’s true. Again, you’re complicit, you’re saying, “We’re going to get through this together,” and there’s a point of view and a purpose. Drew Goddard, are you still a double-spacer?

Drew Goddard: Oh, yes.

John: Oh, yes, you haven’t changed.

Drew Goddard: Oh, I will, until the day I die. How much do you want to hear my rant?

John: Tell me your rant, because I was a double-spacer, I switched back, but tell me your argument for maintaining double-spaces. In the light of all rationality.

Drew Goddard: Great. I will be happy to go down as well.

John: Let’s start with the screenplay form. The screenplay form is ridiculous. Take a moment and realize that the screenplay form is something that was designed because of typewriters, and how quickly that we could use typewriters, and how quickly you do revision pages. One of the nice benefits of the form that came to be is that, in general, one page equals about a minute of screen time.

John: Yes, the roughest approximation, but useful.

Drew Goddard: It’s crazy how close it comes. In most scripts, you’re not that far off. Now, each page might be way off, but in the aggregate–

John: Most scripts are about 120 pages or about 2 hours long.

Drew Goddard: Yes, and I’ve found that shocking, because I’ve written wildly different forms of scripts, whether it’s straight comedy, or hardcore action, or whatever it is, end up at the same place, which I find incredibly useful. I find it incredibly useful to understand when you’re getting into the budgeting phase, when you’re getting into the directing phase, when you’re getting into time management phase, it’s really helpful to know how long this scene is going to be. For me, why are we changing this? It’s arbitrarily because people don’t text that way. Yes, people don’t write in Courier.

Also, I’m a believer that the negative space on a page is almost as important as the positive space on a page. I believe that if the goal is to be helping your reader through an artistic experience, the negative space on a page is a wonderful weapon at your disposal. Why would you want to crush that weapon? Why would you? Let it flow. I understand we’ll all knife fight. I also understand I’m probably the last person on the hill. If you want to see Drew lose his mind, there was points that we could talk about Hail Mary. There was parts when Chris and Phil would write, our directors would write scenes, and single-spacer, and you would look at it, and they would put the single spaces in the middle, which is the worst defense. At the very least, if you’re going to force it–

John: If you’re going to rewrite me, you should at least double-space it.

Drew Goddard: Or make it all single-spaced, and I will be ashamed. To jump back and forth is the most egregious in a script. To read a script that you’re doing both, we should all be shot.

John: There have been cases where I’ve come in to do cabinetry work in a script where basically I’m not changing, but I’m just doing some certain scenes, and I will try to match the style of whatever was there, including double-spacing or just the difference between double dash and dot, dot, dot. I will do what the thing is just so it actually reads like the thing. That said, if I’m doing a page one rewrite on thing, I’m searching for double spaces and breaking them down to one space because that’s just where I’m at now.

Drew Goddard: I respect that. I do the same, by the way. You and I do a lot of script doctoring. I want to be respectful, but I will start by talking to the writer and saying, “Are you sure? Because if you don’t feel strongly, let’s try it this other way. If you feel strongly, we will go with your version.”

John: That’s great. Let’s talk about Project Hail Mary because it’s just fantastic. Andy Weir has written a new novel. At what point does it cross your transom? When do you start having the conversation like, “Hey, maybe Drew Goddard should adopt this movie since he did such a great job the last time?”

Drew Goddard: Andy and I have stayed in contact just in life since The Martian, but that’s 10 years ago now, right? I actually remember the date because it was so clear. It was April Fool’s Day, so April 1st, 2020. Two weeks after the pandemic shut everything down, world sky is falling. We are in full.

John: It’s not clear that civilization will survive.

Drew Goddard: It really feels that way. Andy texts me and goes, “I don’t know how you’re doing, but I did just finish a new novel. Do you want to read it?” I’m like, “Andy, I’m trying to find groceries right now. No.” He’s like, “Come on.” I’m like, “Of course, I do want to read it.” I also was like, “Are you messing with me on April Fool’s Day because that’s not–”

John: Yes, not cool.

Drew Goddard: He was like, “No, it’s lovely. I’m really proud of it. Would you read it?”

John: Had he told you anything about it before?

Drew Goddard: No. He probably would have if I’d pressed, but I tend to not press writers when they’re in the middle of writing unless they want to open up. I’d love to, but I also know give it space to be nurtured. I didn’t know anything. I prefer that, especially if it’s something that I may want to work on. It’s better so I can have a clean experience. Then he said, “Ryan Gosling is already attached.”

John: Oh. How that happened?

Drew Goddard: Andy’s at CAA. I think CAA sort of put it together. Those are the two pieces I knew.

John: He’s ideal casting. Also, it’s a weird situation to come in with just that piece.

Drew Goddard: Luckily, yes. If it’s in the list of weird situations, that’s a weird situation you want, right? Great. I was also insanely busy with other things. I thought, “There’s no way I’m going to be able to just life-wise, I’m not going to be able to do this,” which I gently tried to tell him because I knew, I’m like, “If you’ve got Ryan Gosling, you guys are going to go. You’re going to be shooting soon, and I’m not the person to be shooting soon right now just because of life.” He said, “We’re going to wait. If you do it, we’ll wait.” He was very sweet about that.

I said, “Well, don’t do that. I’m not going to let you do that.” He said, “Well, will you just read it?” Then I read it. When I’m reading something that I might do, I don’t know if you’re this way, John, I’m constantly looking for ways out.

John: 100%. Absolutely. Oh, this is there, yes.

Drew Goddard: I’m looking all the reasons to not do this, because I know, especially if it’s people I’ve worked with that I don’t want to let down. I’m like, “I want to do a good job for you,” so I’m looking for all the ways I’m about to do a bad job for them. I’m reading it and talking myself out of it, trying to be like, because quite honestly, this book is a screenwriter’s nightmare. It’s a screenwriter’s nightmare, and we’re going to get to that in a second.

John: I read the book well before I saw your movie. I was reading and thinking like, “Oh, Drew easily has this.” Yes, it’s challenging, but it’s not impossible. The reason why I want to talk about beats versus scenes is because the beats of the book are the beats of the movie. It’s just like the challenge is how do you actually implement them, and the fundamental decisions you’re making in terms of how close you’re sticking to his POV, and how to get out of his head. I’m sure as you were reading that, you were thinking like, “This is all inside his mind.”

Drew Goddard: It’s all inside his mind. Then when you finally– All right, let me tell you, I disagree with you passionately that it’s going to be easy.

John: All right. Great.

Drew Goddard: I also knew everyone else that this to me all the time. “It’s going to be so easy for you it’s like The Martian.” I’m like, “It’s not. The Martian–” It’s surfacely like The Martian, but where it becomes wildly different, you have a disaster movie where the threat, the disaster is microbial, so I have to get into microbiology to help an audience.

John: You have a lot of good text from the book that can be incorporated into his drylands figuring out what’s going on.

Drew Goddard: Yes, but you try to make it visually interesting.

John: I’m sorry.

Drew Goddard: Try to do that part. Yes, try to shape it. Okay, that’s step one. Step two, most of it takes place in a narrator’s head who does not know what’s going on. Not only do you not have someone to talk to, he actually doesn’t know what’s going on, which is challenging.

John: Yes, but fundamentally, there’s a second character.

Drew Goddard: Great. I’m glad you brought up that second character. That second character is a rock who speaks in whale songs. He speaks only in whale songs, and he’s a rock, and he’s delightful. Don’t get me wrong. You realize these are challenges when going back to scenes. You’re like, I have an actor.

John: Every crisis is an opportunity. I’m sorry. I’m going to sell you on adapting this book.

Drew Goddard: It’s true. I said yes for the reasons that you’re saying, but I also knew this is going to be way harder than everyone realizes, because when you read it, it moves, but once you sit and go, “Wait, what’s the scene? What is the scene?”

John: “What is the scene?” That is the challenge.

Drew Goddard: That’s where you go, “Oh my God, I’m screwed.”

John: Yes. You had to make fundamental decisions. Reading the book and then watching the movie, a lot of the choices he made were the choices that I also saw in my head, but the actual nature of the ship itself is much different because you needed to create physical spaces that would enable you to have individual scenes and moments in development, and to get out of just his head so he can have physical challenges to get through to demonstrate what the emotional, intellectual puzzle he’s trying to face is.

Drew Goddard: Yes, exactly. Part of this is also your job is not just, I got to make a scene that Ryan Gosling wants to act in. I need to make a scene that my directors are going to want to direct. I need to make a scene that the production designer is going to want to design. [crosstalk] That’s in a good way. That forces you to go, “Okay, let’s think about the room. Let’s think about the space that we’re in. Let’s actually be in this.”

John: Yes, the spaces are bigger than I would have expected them to be, which is completely appropriate.

Drew Goddard: To be fair, that’s the directors, also like, that’s Chris and Phil, because what you’re describing is expensive. I’m like, “I’m not handing you something that’s going to drive the budget through the roof.” They’re like, “We got that covered. We’re going to drive the budget through the roof.”

John: They can handle it all by themselves.

Drew Goddard: Then, to their credit, I watched the movie, and I’m like, “I have no idea how human beings made this.” It is a stunning [unintelligible 00:40:34] production design. It is unbelievable. It was scary. What we’re really describing is my own fear of myself failing. Going back to fear of failure, I didn’t want to fail for Andy. I didn’t want to fail for Andy above all else.

John: You read the book, you have all your excuses for why you’re not going to do it, and then how did the yes come–

Drew Goddard: No. Two-thirds of the way through the book, something happens that made me sit up. I don’t want to spoil it for people, but you will know it. You will know because it will be the thing that you have not seen done yet. At least, we can compare notes later. I don’t remember it happening. I sat up and went, “Oh my God.” There’s four or five of those things in the movie. There’s one in particular that made me go, “Oh, all of the hardships that we are describing actually is set up for the thing that happens.” All of the reasons that I’m complaining as I’m reading this book, I go, “Oh my God, this is what’s going to make this movie transcend,” from my point of view.

A couple of things I do when I finish the book like that, that I’m actually thinking of doing, I quickly write down the 5 or 10 beats that I think that I love more than anything, that are the things. I write them down. I put them in giant font on my wall before I speak to anyone because I know at some point, all of these things are going to come under siege, all of them. Also, not just the outside world, not just people working on the film, not just executives, not just– also by me because you do start to second-guess everything in the course of making a movie. I kept looking at that.

One of those things that I describe is on that wall, which we don’t have to get into that part, but there’s a lot of fights about that. There’s a lot of fights. Anything that’s bold and different, I promise you somebody wanted to cut along the way. You have to remember, “Oh, but when I first read it, that’s why I wanted to do it.”

John: Watching the movie, you can say it’s long, but it’s really this full length. It does the whole thing, and it’s an entire experience. Luckily, I think we’ve become more appreciative of long movies that work really well. They don’t feel long because it’s always exciting and always invigorating. The Marvel movies, to some degree, are probably part of the reason why we’ve been trained to take longer movies, which is great.

You get all of the book in there. As I was watching through it, it’s like, “Oh, what did they actually cut?” The cuts are so smart and so surgical. They’re generally things that a reader of a book who has all the time in the world and all the pages in the world can sort of like, “Oh, that’s an interesting thing about how we paved the deserts of the Sahara.” It doesn’t affect the stakes of the movie that we’re watching. That was good, and it was crucial. There’s reasons to go back to Earth, and there’s reasons not to go back to Earth. You basically chose not to go back to Earth when we didn’t need to anymore.

Drew Goddard: Having done this a lot, the thing that every time I’m working with a new novelist, I have to gently say, “Page count-wise, I have room for about 5% of your novel.” We all have to make peace with that and figure out what are we going to use? You know going in that you’re going to have to do some brutal cuts that are going to hurt. If you love the book like I love the book, it’s going to hurt me more than anyone.

One of the things on that list of 10, at one point—and we’ll just talk about it because it’s not in the movie—was they make a decision to nuke the polar ice caps. It’s wonderful. I loved it, and I thought it was the one thing on the list that’s not in the movie because we all were like, “Let’s try to–” but when you went to what is the scene for that, there’s no version of seeing that quickly. If you want to do it correctly, you have to set up what is the problem, what are we trying to solve, why is this the correct solution. You can’t just say, “And then we nuke the polar ice caps.”

John: In a 10-episode series, it absolutely makes sense. In a three-hour movie, it does not make sense at all.

Drew Goddard: It’s an [unintelligible 00:44:26] end sell. It was a late cut. Even after we had shot it, we were still trying to be like, “Can we try? Let’s try. Let’s mock it up.”

John: Yes, “Let’s nuke the ice caps.”

Drew Goddard: This is a credit to Chris and Phil, our directors. They are not afraid of anything. They were like, “Oh, we’ve already shot a full movie. Great. We can still nuke–” They’ve been right. It’s been wonderful working with them because they come from animation.

John: They’re used to it.

Drew Goddard: They’re like, “If the idea is good, we’re going to figure it out.” There’s something thrilling about that. We tried, but part of it, it’s the scene. You couldn’t figure out what the scene was that could do efficiently.

John: Who’s POV are you in? Ryland doesn’t really make sense for it.

Drew Goddard: No.

John: Sandra Hüller’s-

Drew Goddard: Character could do it, but–

John: -could do it, but what I like about what you do in the movie is that her character exists for how she interacts with Ryan Gosling’s character. That’s the relationship.

Drew Goddard: When you’re setting out to adapt something, you’re going to make a ton of cuts. You need a defining principle. I, very quickly, not that this is deep, but it’s important to say it. You’re like, this movie is about Grace and Rocky. That’s what this movie is about. Every scene needs to be in service, even if neither of those characters are in it. It’s on the B side, on the space side. Then it’s about Stratt and Grace on the A side. That triangle is telling the same story. It comes together. Do you understand?

John: Trust, yes.

Drew Goddard: Yes. Sacrifice and what this means, and what the bigger purpose of life is. When you think about it like that, it’s like, “Oh, yes, every scene is on theme between that.” When you start to divert from theme, it ends up on that cutting room floor.

John: Yes. You’ve decided to say yes. What is your internal process for coming up with an outline? Are you sharing that with anybody else? Is that just yours? What was that process for you?

Drew Goddard: Before I say yes, I like to come up with a very simple beat cheat of like, “Okay, do I think there’s a movie here that I can see?” Even if I don’t have the answers, is there enough that I go, “Okay, I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I want people to know, okay, it’s going to be hard, but we’re going to figure it–” I’ll do a very rough beat cheat only for myself before I even engage. It’s very, like, “In this 30 pages, this happens. In this 30 pages, this happens. In this 30–” It sort of [unintelligible 00:46:40]. It’s not thought through. It’s more what happens every 15 quite often.

John: If it was a road trip, what it is you’re going to stop at on the way?

Drew Goddard: What’s great about Andy is he does have a wonderful sense of structure. He really does. It’s one of the things I respond to so strongly in his writing. There is an inherent structure in what he does.

John: Cliffhanger after cliffhanger after cliffhanger, which is what pulls you through the book so quickly.

Drew Goddard: Exactly. It makes all of the problems we were just talking about easier because you know, “Okay, we can build to these things.” I do that. Then at that point, Chris and Phil were on to direct. Chris and Phil, we’ve been friends for two decades now. We’ve had parallel careers. We both started in TV. They were doing Jump Street when I was doing Cabin in the Woods. We have always been fans of each other and trying to find things to do. That was thrilling, but I also knew our processes could not be more different. They are very much when we’re talking about–

John: They’re jazz. Is there–

Drew Goddard: They are. It comes from animation, and it works really well for them. Whereas it’s not measured twice, cut once; it’s measured 20 times, cut once. They’re, “Why are we measuring? Let’s just cut, cut, cut. We’ll just keep packing away and building something.” I was kind of excited because I knew it was important to try a different process. It was important for me as an artist, when I respect the other artists, to say, “Oh, let’s give this a try. Let’s see how this works.” I think they probably felt the same. I knew, “We need to talk about this now. We need to talk about what this is because we have very different process.”

What I said to them was, “I don’t want my process to stop you from your process. I think the way to do that is let me hyper-focus on structure. If I hyper-focus on structure so that we know this is when this needs to happen, this is the rough structure of the movie, and we can agree on it, you guys can go crazy. You guys can have so much fun.”

John: To paint within the lines here.

Drew Goddard: Yes, “Have fun. I want that, but let’s start with structure.” Those conversations were crucial because then, as I’m doing outline after outline, the goal is to say, “Let’s find a structure that we can be playful inside of.” That is what’s on the screen. We’ve moved scenes around here and there, but if you look at the big arcs of the things, it’s like we have not deviated that much from the initial outlines.

John: Yes. The movie is funny and funny in ways that you wouldn’t necessarily expect, given the stakes of everything that’s happening. That’s because I think you have both a very strong backbone for everything and then a lot of moments for the natural comedy that comes up that I’m sure some of it was scripted, but some of it was just finding in the moments that can absolutely play.

Drew Goddard: Without question. I’ve learned from doing comedy and drama,-

John: The intersections.

Drew Goddard: -if the scene does not have a dramatic reason to exist, it’s okay. You can sometimes have diversions that are purely comedic, but it’s really helpful if they have a reason to do both.

John: Going back to the beat and scene description, it’s like that beat that it just has a bunch of funny banter; it’s not really a beat. It’s not a thing that happens. Nothing changed over the course of it. It’s very unlikely it’s going to first survive the outline stage, but then actually survive the edit. Because it can go away, so therefore it will go away.

Drew Goddard: Especially on something like Hail Mary, where screen time is a premium. You’re constantly having to look at, “I need to do exposition in this scene, I need to do emotional growth in this scene, I need to drive the story forward, I need to explain what the hell’s happening with the science.” You can’t do each one of those scenes on their own. All of the scenes have to be doing a version of that, for the most part.

You realize what starts to happen as we got into it is Drew became the internal clock of, “Do we have the page count?” which I try not to do, but at a certain point, you’re like, “It’s going to really hurt us later in the editing room if we don’t have a structure here.”

John: Congratulations again on the movie. It’s just so, so good.

Drew Goddard: It’s a joy to talk to you, John. It really is. Thank you for having me.

John: We have a listener question here, I think might be really good from Carlos.

Drew Marquardt: “I’m currently working on a pilot. I’ve organized a schedule that requires me to write a specific number of scenes per day, two to three tops, in order to meet the deadline. However, I find it hard to give my brain a rest in between writing sit-downs. Sometimes after an hour or two of writing, I find myself too mentally drained to start the next scene, even though I know what happens in it. Do you have any advice on activities that could help disconnect and recharge the brain battery effectively?”

Drew Goddard: I do.

John: Yes, please go. Go for it.

Drew Goddard: This is a great question. When Twin Peaks: The Return came out, there’s an eighth episode that’s all in black and white, and it’s exquisite. Have you seen it?

John: I haven’t anything.

Drew Goddard: It’s exquisite. I highly recommend it. It’s so bonkers that it made me go, “Whatever David Lynch does, I want to see what he does,” and I started doing meditation. It’s the thing that made me go, “Let me try meditation. Let me see–” I’m not super new-agey, but I was like, “Let me understand how this works.” What works for me is it calms the nervous system. It does exactly the thing that you’re describing, Carlos, which is how do you turn your brain off for a second? The other thing that works is walks. I’m a big fan of walks.

John: Yes, I was going to say walk would be the right choice.

Drew Goddard: Put the pen down, stop writing, just take a walk, and build that into your process because what will happen is those things will become the reward for the writing. Both of those things really help me.

John: Great. Yes. Walks, showers, anything to get you out of your–

Drew Goddard: Showers. I mean showers, especially in the age of smartphones. They were always important. I know this Aaron Sorkin of which you speak; he also talks a lot about showers, and there’s a reason, because it’s forcing you to be bored. That’s the other thing you’re looking for, is: it’s so hard to be bored right now in our world, and you have to force yourself to find ways to do it.

John: The other thing to remember is just like Carlos says, after two hours of writing, I sort of came to the next thing. It’s like, “Yes, because you were working really, really hard. If you were digging a ditch for two hours, you would know that you had to take a break. Your muscles would tell you you have to take a break. Your brain is telling you have to take a break.” Yes, it’s the right instinct to go do something else.

Drew Goddard: It’s a thing I don’t think people who are not writers understand, that it is grueling. There is a fatigue that sets in. By the time I’m finished with any script, I do feel like I’ve run a marathon, I do. I always talk about those videos of runners whose legs stop working just as they’re getting to the finish line. That is how I feel when I get to the end of every single script.

John: Yes, for sure. Let’s try this question from James:

Drew Marquardt: “My friend Simon and I had the same idea for a movie and decided to team up and write it. Because we have jobs, it took us two years to write the first draft. After Simon went through some personal issues as well as losing some interest in the project, we agreed that I take control of the rewrite. I was happy about that, as I thought we’d struggle to have a succinct tone and voice as a pair anyway.

I’m aware that legally this script will always be written by James and Simon, and I’ve no intention of cutting him out of anything, but by the time I will have finished the rewrite, I’ll have probably rewritten 95% of the screenplay. When we start entering competitions or shopping it around, how can I position myself as the writer who has really made it what it is, even though the characters and story were a 50-50 effort?

It’s not about money; I just want to be recognized as the person who’s put the extra hours in to get the screenplay where it is.”

John: Wow. It’s a group project, and somebody did most of the work in a group project. That’s the reality of it, and that it’s probably always going to be true. There’s never a partnership that is equal 50-50. This was not a good partnership. You probably should not write another thing with this person.”

Drew Goddard: I think that’s right. To answer your question, if you really want the credit, you need to write something else on your own if that’s what you’re seeking. Even in the best of times, it’s probably not going to happen, nor should it.

John: All right. It is time for our one cool thing. My one cool thing is Kalina, K-A-L-I-N-A, which is the last name of Noah Kalina, who is a photographer in upstate New York; he mostly does landscapes. He has this series called Kalina on YouTube, which is a bunch of video wallpapers of just video from upstate New York, forests, mostly, that are so amazing and meditative and just quiet and wonderful. You should watch them on the biggest screen you can.

If you have the YouTube TV app for your Apple TV or whatever, put them on a big screen and just watch them there. They’re, I think, better than the Apple screensavers because they are, lots of times you’re in a forest, and you’re just watching him walk around taking photos, but it’s just one still shot. You hear the forest. It is great. Sometimes it’s snow, sometimes it’s rain.

Drew Goddard: Wait, say it again. That sounds fantastic.

John: Kalina, K-A-L-I-N-A. Noah also has a newsletter that’s great, also. You may have actually seen him once before because he was one of those first photographers who was taking a photo of himself every day, and it stacked up. You can see going from 20s to 50 or whatever, and just what time does to a person. His nature photography is incredible, and to have it as video is just an absolute gift. Just free on YouTube. Often, we’ll be watching a show and then when we’re done watching a show, when we’re not quite ready to go to bed, he pops that up on the TV. It’s delightful.

Drew Goddard: Sounds fantastic. Great.

John: Drew, what do you got for us?

Drew Goddard: I think teachers have been on my mind because this movie is about teachers saving the world. My mom’s a teacher. She’s been teaching for 50-plus years. I love teachers. I would not be where I am without teachers. Since we’re talking about screenwriting, the most important thing that happened to me in my career is that I arrived at the University of Colorado at the exact same time that Lucia Berlin, the author, showed up to start teaching. We found each other. She was the person who believed in me, and she was the person that said, “I’m going to spend the next three years with you. We’re going to do this together.”

She was doing it with lots of other students, too, but we really had a connection. She changed me as an artist and as a person. I think because this is on my mind, I’ve been rereading her short stories. I cannot recommend them more highly. I think especially if you like the sort of stuff I do, which is big in genre, it’s not that, and yet you will see the influence. A good place to start, her short stories got repackaged around 2015, and she finally exploded. She’s been dead for a while, so she didn’t get to see this. It would delight her. Start with any of them, quite frankly, but A Manual for Cleaning Women.

John: I’ve heard of that, yes.

Drew Goddard: It’s exquisite. I can’t recommend it more highly.

John: Lucia Berlin?

Drew Goddard: Lucia Berlin.

John: Great. Fantastic.

Drew Goddard: Great.

John: That is our show for this week. Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Nick Moore. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask@johnaugust.com. That is also the place where you can send questions like the ones we answered today. You’ll find the transcripts at johnaugust.com along with a sign-up for our weekly newsletter called Interesting, which has lots of links to things about writing.

The Scriptnotes book is available wherever you buy books. We’ll give you a Scriptnotes book while you’re here. You’ll find clips and other helpful video on our YouTube. Just search for Scriptnotes and give us a follow. You’ll find us on Instagram: @scriptnotespodcast. We have T-shirts, hoodies, and drinkware. You’ll find those at Cotton Bureau. You’ll find show notes with links to all the things we talked about today in the email you get each week as a premium subscriber. Thank you to our premium subscribers.

You make it possible for us to do this each and every week. You can sign up to become one at scriptnotes.net, where you get all those back episodes, including Drew Goddard’s back episode, and bonus segments like the one we’re about to record on television. Drew Goddard, an absolute pleasure chatting with you about film and TV and your incredible movie.

Drew Goddard: John, it has been an absolute pleasure. I hope we get to do it again.

John: Hooray.

[Outro – by Nick Moore]

John: All right. Drew Goddard, we’ve talked about some television over the course of this thing, but mostly about putting stuff up on boards and figuring that out. I want to talk more about TV overall, because in addition to everything else you’ve done, you adapted a French series into High Potential, which is one of the few breakout broadcast shows over the past few years. How optimistic are you about TV in general? How do you feel about TV at this moment? What’s possible? What’s good? What are you seeing?

Drew Goddard: I suppose I’m perpetually optimistic, even knowing there are dark skies above us, if that makes sense. I remember, and part of this is just coming from New Mexico, coming from a small town, not understanding the business at all. When I got here in the late ’90s, everyone was saying, “Oh, it’s a terrible time. It’s a terrible time. It’s not like it used to be.” I was like, “But I just got here. We work in Hollywood.

There’s elephants walking down this set. What are you talking about? Let’s go and enjoy this.” I think that’s always stuck with me. I do think every time period has challenges, and we are definitely in a time period of challenges, but also, what are we supposed to do? Give up? Let’s keep making stuff. Right now, they want to make it, so let’s start shooting. That tends to be my approach of, “Can we shoot something? Let’s go shoot something.”

John: High Potential was a pilot.

Drew Goddard: Yes.

John: It’s a very classical model because you think, “Oh, you just go straight to series and stuff like that,” but you wrote a pilot, they shot a pilot, and we had friends in common who worked on the show originally, so yes.

Drew Goddard: Look, I think I’m a contrarian by nature. When I first got out here, the only thing people were making was CSIs and versions of that. I was like, “No, I want to go work with Joss Whedon and J.J. Abrams. J.J., he’s only doing this alias thing. Nobody really wants it because there’s serialization, and we hate serialization here in Hollywood. I was like, “Yes, but I want to write that. That sounds fun,” and that guided my career.

Then what happened was suddenly everything swung. TV became an eight-episode series that probably have been three episodes that we’ve just stretched out. I like episodes. I like beginnings, middles, and ends. Even when something is highly serialized. When I think back on the television that has moved me, I think in terms of episodes. Like, it’s Jose Chung’s From Outer Space in The X-Files. It’s every episode of The Sopranos, if we’re being honest. We could just go down the list. It’s The Body from Buffy. I love episodes.

I was like, “Wait, hang on. We’ve over-corrected here.” There’s something about this art form that I like. I do like broadcast. I don’t like the part of broadcast that makes it impossible to see your family.

John: Yes, the meat grinder of it all.

Drew Goddard: I thought, “Oh, I can create this as a concept.” The French version—I’m always looking to say no. We talked about this—when I saw it, I was like, “Oh, this feels special. This feels like a voice that is needed right now. A single mom speaking truth to power feels like something that we need right now. Maybe I can help Trojan horse it.”

John: Well, it’s also a very clear engine, which is basically, every week, it is a case of the week kind of thing with a different protagonist at the center of it. It feels very doable. Also, let’s talk about the sustainability of it. You wrote it, and there was a star attached who was like, “I need to stay in Los Angeles.” It’s designed for a star who’s going to stay in Los Angeles, a show that would shoot in Los Angeles. Those feel like fundamentally good choices.

Drew Goddard: I realized this before our studio and network, which is the main character’s a mom. That suggests a certain age range. They want somebody who’s a known quantity. In that age range, asking somebody to then go drop everything and move to Budapest or wherever the tax break is right now, it’s not going to happen when you’re trying to do this many episodes. Our only hope of finding a name is to say, “I can get you home to your kids. I can make your life good.”

I said, “We’re looking for two places, New York and Los Angeles. You guys need to come to peace with that because you’re going to hope we can find some actress that will be like, ‘Sure, I’ll move to Toronto.’ It’s not going to happen. It’s just not.” That’s what we said to Kaitlin Olson. She was like, “I don’t want to do this.” I’m like, “I understand. I get why you don’t want to do this, but let’s talk about how we can do this in a way that actually will be delightful to your life,” because that’s how it used to be.

That was Buffy. We shot here. We shot [unintelligible 01:03:29] here. We shot all of my first shows until Lost, which you couldn’t shoot here. There is a joy and an efficiency to being here that I don’t think the studios fully understand. I was like, “This is a show that lends itself to the processes of the days of old. I actually want to shoot a pilot because you learn a lot from shooting a pilot. I actually want to do these things.” There was a reason we did these things. It wasn’t arbitrary. It gave you opportunity to make the best product possible. Not everything needs it, but this one did.

I’m glad to hear you talk about story engine because I think that is the single biggest mistake young writers make. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read pilots that are very good pilots that I read, and I go, “There’s no story engine here. What you’re really writing is a longer feature.” That’s fine. I know there’s lots of wonderful six-episode shows that have been wonderful. If that’s what you want to do, fantastic. I’m always like, “Don’t tell me what Episode 1 is. I need to know what Episode 50 is.” Not in the plot of Episode 50, but where are we? I’ve been a person that’s had to sit in those rooms and go, “How are we ever going to get to this?” You realize the importance of where is the story coming from.

John: There’s a project I’m working on where I wrote, it’s a very premise-y pilot. It’s starting up the things, but then when you actually have the conversations with buyers, you have to say, “This is Episode 2,” because you have to explain, “This is what you expect to happen over the course of a normal episode.” That’s fine. Lost is a premise pilot. You have to explain, “Episode 2 is crucial for this is the kind of thing that happens in a normal episode of Lost.”

Drew Goddard: I believe that Episode twos are the hardest episodes. You can look at most shows. I’m in awe when people do Episode twos well. If you can look at Breaking Bad as a phenomenal Episode 2, they’re really hard to do for the exact reason that you’re talking about. They usually derail everything, if we’re being honest, for a while. In most shows, you learn, “We got to spend extra time on Episode 2.”

John: Yes. It’s always so fun to see, like, the set completely changed from Episode 1 to Episode 2, because I didn’t actually figure out–

Drew Goddard: Yes.

John: That happened to you, too. Yes.

Drew Goddard: We shot in Vancouver, and then we’re here, and so it changed.

John: Tell me about High Potential. You wanted to do this adaptation of this French show. You wrote the pilot, but you didn’t direct it, and you weren’t going to be a showrunner there. How do you make the decision to, like, “Okay, I want this to exist, but I don’t want this to become my life”? Is that really what–

Drew Goddard: That factors into it. That’s part of the equation, but it’s not the only equation. I also really like collaboration. You can look at my career. I am not a person that’s just secretly always wanted to direct, and bitter about it. There’s times I really want to direct. There’s stories that I feel like I’m the best person to direct, and then there’s times where I’m like, “I am not the best person,” and it’s delightful to work with other people. I enjoy that tremendously. I think that’s hard for people to understand, where I go, “No, no, I enjoy being this screenwriter. Right now, I enjoy that part and let you be the director, and I can support you.”

In the case of High Potential, I was like, “Oh, no, Alethea should direct this.” Alethea directed our pilot. She’s better than me at this. For this project, she is better at this. The same goes with showrunner, I knew very quickly, “This show, I’m going to try to start deconstructing the show.” I will start to get bored.

John: You’ll get bored, yes.

Drew Goddard: On a plot level, on a character level, I will start to be like, “And all of these characters by episode 18, they’re going to end up dead, and that’s not what we should do here. I don’t think that’s–“

John: Because you have meta-exploration of what it means to be a procedural showrunner.

Drew Goddard: I don’t want that. I actually think that it’s going to require a resolve of a different time, and part of that resolve is saying, “Drew shouldn’t be the person doing this.” I can be helpful with all of the other parts, but I don’t need to be. It’s fun. It’s fun to not be the showrunner. I’ve done that too, and I enjoy that, too. Every project has its own; it’s like you’re building a combination of what’s the best thing, and I’m lucky that I get to choose.

John: There are more pilot shooting this year than last year, and there’s also longer episode orders coming through, which seems like a promising development. I don’t know that we’re going to get more series to happen, but if we can get more episodes, it’s not just more work, but it’s also just more sustainable.

Drew Goddard: I hope, and this is going to sound cynical. I don’t mean it as cynical, but what I hope is studios are going to remember that this is wildly profitable. I think part of the problem with four/six-episode seasons is it was hard for studios to make profit on that. I don’t care. Studios meant to be clear, I don’t care. I care in the sense that if it’s profitable, they’re going to let us keep making more stuff, and they’re going to let me hire more people, and we’re going to get to do this. These things build on each other. I think we over-corrected as an industry as we were trying to get people to sign up for Screamers. That’s stopped, and now you’re remembering, “Oh, no, the longer this goes, the more profit there is,” and I think that’s helpful for all of us.

John: What recent series have gotten you most excited? What series are you watching that you didn’t create that you’re like, “Oh, wow, that’s a show”?

Drew Goddard: Again, I’m not saying anything that we don’t know, but Succession, I thought, is the show that I go back to. I’ve been rereading the scripts and looking what Jesse and his writing staff did, and I’m in awe of the writing. If you really want to study writing, study Jesse’s scripts. Jesse is really operating at a level right now that I find very profound. Even though obviously showered with Emmys, I still don’t know that people realize how much he’s writing about at the time, and seeing that move forward. It’s good when I’m looking at the scripts and wanting to reread the scripts. That’s the one.

John: Over the weekend, I was having a conversation with somebody who knew a lot of stuff behind the scenes at HBO and was saying that for years, HBO was looking like, “What is our next Six Feet Under? What is our family drama that actually has an engine to it, so it’s a family, but stuff,” and that was Succession. It took a long time for them to find their new Six Feet Under, which became Succession, which was, again, an even bigger hit.

Drew Goddard: It’s one of those, “Not try this at home.” I don’t know how you would ever pitch it. I don’t know how you would ever figure out what Episode 2 is of that show. All of the rules went out the window, and yet, in hindsight, it all makes sense, right? When you look at it episode by episode, I’m like, how did human beings pull this off?

John: They did. Thanks, Drew.

Drew Goddard: Thank you.

Links:

  • Project Hail Mary | Trailer
  • Drew Goddard on IMDb
  • The Martian screenplay
  • Twin Peaks: The Return – Part 8
  • Noah Kalina on YouTube and Substack
  • A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin
  • Get your copy of the Scriptnotes book!
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Become a Scriptnotes Premium member, or gift a subscription
  • Subscribe to Scriptnotes on YouTube
  • Scriptnotes on Instagram and TikTok
  • John August on Bluesky and Instagram
  • Outro by Nick Moore (send us yours!)
  • Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

Scriptnotes, Episode 726: So you’ve been nominated for an Oscar, Transcript

March 5, 2026 Scriptnotes Transcript

The original post for this episode can be found here.

John August: Hello, and welcome. My name is John August, and this is Scriptnotes, a podcast about screenwriting and things that are interesting to screenwriters.

Today on the show, so you’ve been nominated for an Oscar, what do you do next, how do you translate this attention and heat into that next project, and hopefully into a career? To help us answer this question, we are joined today by a writer-director pair facing this exact dilemma. Natalie Musteata and Alexandre Singh are a writer-director pair whose short film Two People Exchanging Saliva has racked up a bunch of awards, including an Oscar nomination. Welcome and congratulations.

Natalie Musteata: Thank you so much.

Alexandre Singh: Thank you so much, John.

Natalie: Thank you.

John: We should say you actually are Scriptnotes listeners, so this is not a strange place for you to show up.

Natalie: Not at all. This is actually the first podcast for screenwriting that we ever listened to. It was 10 years ago. Alex and I, we come from the visual arts, and all we ever did was talk about film. Alex suggested, “Rather than talking about film or writing about film, why don’t we try and make films?” which I thought was audacious, as two people that had never been to film school and knew absolutely no one in the film industry.

Alexandre: This is a full-circle moment for us because, quite often in the podcast, we’re talking about emerging filmmakers, emerging screenwriters, regardless of how old they are, were coming from careers in visual arts, and then everybody dreaming of making films. Coming up in an age when you don’t have to go to film school, there’s so much that you can learn from podcasts, from YouTube videos, and of course by putting word to the page and making scripts that are not so great to begin with, and hopefully, get better as you learn the craft.

Natalie: We certainly wrote a few scripts with passive protagonists, [laughter] like everyone does at the beginning.

Alexandre: I would say there’s so many things that you learn over the 10 years of going from zero to wherever we are as writers. The thing I would tattoo on my arm is beware of reactive protagonists. That’s just the biggest lesson I would say. Then everything else is all details.

John: I want to talk about those 10 years behind you, but also the 10 years ahead of you, because I really want to focus on what do you do now. In many ways, you’ve achieved the dream, you got this Oscar nomination, you have heat, you have all these meetings, you’ve signed with an agency, all these things, but there’s lessons to learn, and there’s also decisions to make. I want to talk this through while there are live, active questions for you guys. I want to talk to you about your decision to make this film, but also how anyone listening to this, whether or not they are nominated for an Oscar, they’re going to have moments of heat. Some producer read their thing and liked their thing, and it’s getting passed around. How do you capitalize on that?

What I think you guys have done so well is capitalize on the heat that happens before everything happens, and coming in with a plan for what’s next, and also some flexibility. I want to talk through all that, but also for a bonus segment for premium members, I’d love to talk about black and white, [laughter] because you made the decision to shoot this in black and white, and it was such a smart choice. I just want to talk about making a black and white film in 2025/2026, because it helps, and it was the right choice.

Natalie: Yes. I think that in general, we really leaned into bold decision-making. Making the film black and white was a really easy, early decision that we made. We love black and white films. For us, black and white feels like an X-ray. It’s the essential of the image, and it reduces all the noise.

Alexandre: Color distracts. We’re on the radio, but here we’re surrounded by colorful wires, a colorful table.

John: Trust me, we considered making this podcast in black and white [laughter] for just those reasons. In the bonus segment, we’ll get deep into the black and white. I want to talk about now your short film.

Let’s talk about maybe not the last 10 years, but at least the decision to go in and make this specific film. Before this point, you’ve written some things, you did a short film, which got some attention and got some awards. The decision to make this specific film, what was the ambition, what was the goal? You want to tell a great story, you want to make a great film, but I think you also want to make a film that would attract attention and showcase things you’re really good at.

Natalie: Ironically, yes.

Alexandre: This is something we’ve been thinking a lot about. When we made our first film, we had never been on a set before. The very first moment when we had the first short, which was inspired by the opening shot of Rear Window, needless to say, overly ambitious, using a gimbal, we learned, for example, that changing lenses on a film camera takes much longer than on a photo camera. When your DP says, our DP on our first short, Antonio Paladino says, “Yes, we’ll shoot on vintage glass,” vintage glass is wonderful, but the gears for the follow focus are not in the same places. We were learning on the fly. Our ambition at that point was just to make our film. Would it cut together? Would it be a story? Would it be engaging? Would we–

Natalie: That being said, whenever you’re making anything, especially when you’re finally achieving a dream of making a film, the ambition is great. You’re like, “We’re going to go to Cannes. We’re going to travel far with this film.” We did not see the pandemic coming, which is right around the time that first short came out. That being said, with this short, we had learned a big lesson from the first to the second. One was that while we did make a film that cut together and was really fun and playful and visually sumptuous, it did not do the one thing that we care about most in cinema, which is the element of catharsis and telling an emotional story that’s very character-led. That was something that was really important for us to have in this short.

With this short, we had no ulterior motive. We didn’t know whether we were making it for a museum or for film festivals. We certainly were not projecting far into the future at all.

Alexandre: We weren’t thinking about the short as a stepping stone. We weren’t thinking about the short as a proof of concept. Otherwise, we would not have made it 36 minutes long.

John: Yes, it’s a long short. [laughter] I’m going to put a link in the show notes to The New Yorker is hosting it now, which is great, because when I saw it, I saw it as a Vimeo link, but now everyone can see it through The New Yorker. The very short description, I’ll say, is that it’s a film that takes place in Paris in a society where kissing is forbidden. People pay for things with slaps to the face, a very high concept. We meet this unhappy housewife who becomes fascinated by this salesgirl, and it raises the suspicions of a jealous colleague. That’s to set up what it feels like.

It’s in black and white. It is gorgeous and sumptuous. This department store is incredible. The fashion, the costumes, everything is really elaborate and beyond what you would expect to see in a short film. How early in the process of thinking about doing this piece, instead of it might even be a museum piece, which is so fascinating, I would never even consider that– Of course, that short film is made from museum pieces. How early in the conception of it did you know what you wanted it to look like, feel like, what the experience of the film should be like?

Natalie: We knew very early on because we wrote it very quickly. It’s the fastest thing we’ve ever written. We wrote it in two to three weeks. We shared the first draft, and immediately it was greenlit, which was a huge surprise.

Alexandre: A surprise to us.

John: Greenlit by whom? Who was putting this money?

Natalie: Our producers. The film actually originated out of a constraint, which is that we were asked by these producers, whose company is called MISIA FILMS in Paris, whether we had any ideas set in a luxury department store.

John: Oh my God. Great.

Natalie: We would have never written a film that was set in such a luxurious and impossible-to-access space. We had this unusual playing field. We were like, “Okay, if we’re going to set a film in this very loaded environment where you have the intersection of beauty and commerce and power and social status, how do we subvert this space?” It was in–

Alexandre: How do we put a stamp on it? It was during the Zoom meeting when we were asked, “Go away and think about this.” During the Zoom meeting, we were spitballing ideas. This image came into my mind of someone being slapped in the face and someone counting it out, and that being the form of transaction. Even if that was something that we couldn’t verbally articulate at that time, we knew that there was some thematic juice there. They very kindly didn’t shut this down immediately and asked us to go away and think about this world. It was–

Natalie: Then we started exploring what that would mean. There were a lot of news stories at the time, like today, that were influencing our creative– I don’t know.

Alexandre: Whether we were responding to either laughing or fuming at whilst reading the news, at the time, it was the nascent MAGA days of Governor Ron DeSantis in Florida, there was the protest movement in Iran, Woman, Life, Freedom.

Natalie: All of which is still happening today.

Alexandre: That has been dialed up to 11 today.

Natalie: Part of it for me was also that when you open up your phone today, if you are opening up Instagram, for instance, side by side, you’re being confronted with images of civil unrest and then an advertisement for a luxury handbag. There’s this normalization of violence side by side with commerce that just, I don’t know, felt like it was related to this idea that had come about almost subconsciously. We started developing the film. Very quickly, this yin and yang idea came about, if violence is normalized, then intimacy is not. The love story within this absurdist world started to come about.

Alexandre: We started to become very attached to these characters. Actually, all three of them. Malaise, who’s the young woman who decides to play a game with Angine, an older shopper, pretends that she knows her already. Their antagonist is Petulante, who is a saleswoman who’s been at the store for a long time and feels not just professional jealousy, but perhaps romantic jealousy or just the desire to be touched.

Natalie: It’s a story of three different women from three different generations who are responding to the repressive rules of the society in very different ways, and their differences that lead to the drama of the film.

John: I want to leave it to listeners to watch the film. Then, if you want to read the scripts, you can read the script in English and in French. The French one does not very closely match the English one because things changed along the way.

Natalie: We were rewriting the script as we were shooting. Then, even in the edit, obviously, scenes shifted around. Then some things were cut.

Alexandre: As Victor was saying recently on the podcast, you go into at best, hopefully, the script is 90% there. As much as we want to really labor over the script and have it be perfect because it is the foundation of the house that you’re going to build, sometimes you’re building that car as you are driving it. This was very much the case with this film because we knew we had to shoot in a window before the Christmas sales in the department store. It was the only time where we could shoot four or five nights in a row.

John: Which actual store is it?

Alexandre: The name is Galeries Lafayette. It’s an iconic.

John: I’ve heard of Galeries Lafayette, but I didn’t recognize it.

Natalie: There are two locations. We shot on the one on the Champs-Élysées. We shot in both. We mix and match. The majority of it is the smaller of the two stores, which is on the Champs-Élysées. As you can imagine, it’s open every day of the week. We’re shooting in the middle of the night.

Alexandre: In the same way that sometimes when you write a text, and you need to see it afresh, you print it out or you change font, with all these tricks, imagine that you write in English, and then you rewrite the dialogue in French. That’s a real seeing it afresh.

Natalie: Alex was born in France. My family’s from Armenia. They went to France in exile. I grew up with the two languages. That being said, we live in America. Our French is very, very good, but-

Alexandre: It’s different.

Natalie: -it’s different.

Alexandre: It’s not the natural thing to write in.

Natalie: There was a moment where we wrote something, and it turned out to be not–

Alexandre: It’s a sexual innuendo that we did not know.

Natalie: Did not mean what we thought it meant.

John: Didn’t [inaudible 00:11:56]

Alexandre: Yes.

[laughter]

John: You won’t have heard the episode yet, but Joachim Trier came on the podcast-

Natalie: Oh, amazing.

Alexandre: Oh, wow.

John: -to talk about Sentimental Value. His script was written in Norwegian, but with a lot of English in it. Then, of course, there’s also an English script, which is an important part of the process along the way. For your script, you’re writing this in English. Then, were your French producers reading the English version or reading your French version, or both? How did that work?

Natalie: Oh, that’s a good question.

Alexandre: We were translating it with every draft. People complain sometimes about making documents. Well, imagine that you have to make all your pictures, all your treatments, all your scripts, and then each time update them in each language.

Natalie: At a certain point, we stopped writing in English, and we were just writing in French.

Alexandre: Once we locked pages, we were in French, and we just concentrated on that script. Then, as Natalie says, we were rewriting during rehearsal, we would rewrite on set, we would rewrite the voiceover.

Natalie: Some of this, you can see on our Instagram page. We did a video where we compared one of our main actresses’ audition with the actual film. You can see the dialogue has changed. We’re not tied to the words. It’s the sentiment that counts.

Alexandre: I would say, for example, probably the best thing we did in this entire process was choosing the title of our film, because choosing the title of a film costs you zero, nothing. Having a distinctive title– Our first film was titled The Appointment.

Natalie: Too general.

John: Too general.

Natalie: Too general.

Alexandre: Too general.

Natalie: We realized almost immediately. It was too late. We thought of the right title very quickly, but yes, it was already out in the world.

Alexandre: When we came up with this title, there was a lot of pushback, not just from our producers who thought, “Oh, it sounds good in English, but it’s ugly in French.”

Natalie: Then our American friends were like, “It sounds great in French, but it’s really ugly in English.”

John: It’s distinctive. I remember when it crossed my email inbox, I was like, “Oh,” I recognized it’s stuck in my head.

Natalie: It’s also just, for us, tonally appropriate. It describes a romantic act, but in a very clinical, absurdist way. That is the tone of the film. It is at once romantic and absurd. For us, it just made so much sense. In general, my biggest piece of advice for anyone making anything is, “Do not dull the edges.”

Alexandre: Be a bit spikey.

Natalie: Yes. Also, make those bold decisions. It’s important to really stick to your gut and do the thing that you want to make and not constantly pander to everyone’s opinion.

Alexandre: You can’t make everybody happy. In this day and age, you need to make a subsection of your audience just effing love your film, and some people are not going to like it, and that’s how things are.

John: All right. The short exists. It’s wonderful. Congratulations on it. I really want to focus on you have a short, what do you do with the short? You say you have these French producers, you have a way to make this thing, but you’re going to have this short film. When did you know what the plan was, what festivals to go to, how to launch this into the world?

Alexandre: This is the paradoxical thing I wanted to say. With our first short, we had perhaps the naive ambition that this would be our ticket to the professional world. It came out in March 2020 on the festival circuit. We met zero people. It did nothing for our careers whatsoever. In some ways, we had a– what’s the expression, the Irish expression, a lonergan?

John: A mulligan, yes.

Alexandre: A mulligan. A Kenneth Lonergan.

[laughter]

John: A Kenneth Lonergan to mulligan, yes.

Alexandre: We made this film with no ulterior motive whatsoever. I think, paradoxically, that is its strength. It’s a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. It switches perspectives between not just two characters, but actually briefly three characters, something that’s not even advisable to do in a feature film. In that sense, there was no plan whatsoever. We just poured our sincere artistic and creative ideas into the film. Then, after having made it, thought, “Oh bleep, what are we going to do?” because no sales agent would take it. There were very few festivals that we could apply to.

Natalie: Especially in Europe. It’s a European film. The duration limits for shorts on the festival circuit are determined by the awards. In the US, it’s 40 minutes because that is what the Academy Awards deems a short film. In Europe, it’s 30 minutes because that’s what the European Awards deems a short film. As a 36-minute film, we were not eligible for 90% of film festivals. We didn’t even know shorts distributors were a thing.

John: Tell me, to what degree are they a thing? I don’t have a good sense of what the distribution mechanism really is. I know The New Yorker because The New Yorker has good ones, but tell me what you found.

Alexandre: There is a wonderful, rich world of short filmmaking that is centered around mostly more international festivals. The number one festival for international short films is called Clermont-Ferrand. It is happening right now in Clermont-Ferrand in France. It’s described as the Cannes of short films.

Natalie: Honestly, we had heard of it, and we knew its reputation, but until you experience it, you can’t imagine the quality and the care that is put into this film festival. For instance, it’s the only film festival in the world where, between shorts, they bring up the lights. It’s like a palate cleanser. They tell you, this is a moment of respite, and then–

Alexandre: They change the Dolby level for each film. It’s very, very carefully thought out.

Natalie: The cinemas are enormous. The smallest is 300 seats, and the largest is 1500. You’re playing every day for 10 days in amphitheaters, and every screening is sold out. We played on a Monday at 9:00 AM once. I was like, “Alex, prepare yourself. The weekend screenings were full, but who is going to come to this 700-person cinema at 9:00 AM on a Monday? It was full.

Alexandre: This is the Sundance and Cannes of short films. There are short film distributors there who distribute the films for French and German television channels. They are trying to sell on all different kinds of platforms.

Natalie: Yes, including Criterion, MUBI, Netflix. They’re pitching these things to everyone, but it is primarily a European market, I would say.

Alexandre: It is rare for a short film to get enormous visibility. The Oscar shortlist and Oscar nomination is a type of visibility that is incomparable to the amount of eyeballs at these kind of events.

John: Was Clermont your first festival you debuted in?

Natalie: No. We debuted at the Telluride Film Festival in August 2024, which was, again, something that had been recommended to us. It felt like a pipe dream because they only take five to seven shorts.

Alexandre: Seven. Seven shorts.

John: Wow.

Natalie: Seven shorts. They’re one of the few film festivals that’ll take a short up to 60 minutes. In that sense, we were like, “Well, we have to try.”

Alexandre: If any of your listeners are wondering, did we have an in? Yes, there are ways to get into these festivals, but that is very much the exception. We applied on the website. We sent in our little fee, as we did for all of the festivals, and we got in blind.

Natalie: Yes. We really didn’t expect to get in, so much so that we went on vacation, not having finished the film, because we were so sure that it was an impossibility. Day 1 of our vacation, we find out that we’re in, and the festival’s in four weeks, and we had to cancel our vacation, fly back to New York, finish the film in a rush with our sound designer because we had just started the sound design.

Alexandre: Then at the second festival, we showed out here in Los Angeles, AFI FEST, we won the Grand Jury Prize, which meant that we qualified, too, for the Oscar longlist. We knew almost a year in advance that this was a possibility, and we had a discussion about it, and we felt–

Natalie: We knew it was a possibility, and we prepared over the last year for this journey, were it to happen. That being said, it all felt really like a magical idea, not something that was a reality. No matter how many people told us, “Your film is very good. It could get shortlisted. It could get nominated,” it didn’t feel like a reality until it happened.

John: Telluride, Los Angeles, then you know you’re on the longlist. Then I imagine it becomes easier to get into other festivals because they know what you are.

Alexandre: You would hope so.

John: You would hope so, but [inaudible 00:20:15]

Alexandre: Actually, no. Ironically, the festivals that you think you’re going to get into, you don’t. It’s very hard to predict.

Natalie: Yes, but I would say that our first three festivals were so strong. At Clermont-Ferrand, we won the Audience Prize and the Canal+ Prize, which meant that we had distribution in France and Switzerland and French territories. It was already, for me, such a Cinderella dream-like situation.

Alexandre: That was the beginning of, to get back to your very original question, that was when those conversations that we had even stopped thinking about started to happen. We were approached by international producers asking, “Would you be interested in making this into a feature film?” Those conversations started happening quicker and quicker. More people approached us. We participated in the Square Peg event in October before even making shortlist. Something that we had been listening to for many years on the show about managers and generals and agents that we had always thought, “Oh, we’re just thinking about the craft stuff. That doesn’t really apply to us,” we entered into that world.

Started having meetings in Europe, the UK, and also in Los Angeles and New York with production companies that represent actors, financiers, now also with some of the studios, and learning as we were going along what those meetings were. I think it was a few meetings in before we realized, “Oh, this is a general meeting.”

Natalie: Because we didn’t make this short with any intention of making it into a feature, we did a scriptwriter’s lab in France that’s a little bit like the Sundance of France, called Groupe Ouest. There, we gave ourselves a few weeks or a couple of months to really discover, “Is there a feature in this short? What would it mean to do that? What form does it take?” We gave ourselves the freedom to play again. It was in that process that we found the emotional throughline of what the feature would be.

Alexandre: We also started to develop some of the other ideas that we’d been thinking about, often ideas that had been generated in the last 18 months that were similar to the short and similar to the feature ideas that, on their surface, are absolutely ridiculous, but that we treat quite seriously because, for the characters in these worlds, this is very serious for them. We started to get a sense of what our “voice” is, what it is that we bring to the table, and feeling quite confident about the kind of films that we want to write, the kind of films that we want to make.

To harken back to a previous recent episode, the short at 36 minutes, when we go into meetings, people say to us, “We feel confident that you guys can pull off a feature film.” That’s not always the case with a short, and that is not something we had strategically decided to do. We had done it very sincerely, rather naively, but the end product was that that’s how these meetings have been going.

John: All right. Let’s talk about past success stories, people who’ve transitioned from, “Oh, you got a lot of attention,” and then that short film got them started on a career, and then we can talk about sometimes it doesn’t work, and the decisions that you guys are making that everyone has to make about how to prioritize what to do next and where to put your efforts and energy.

Taika Waititi, Two Cars, One Night, nominated for the Academy Award for Best Live Action Short, 2005. 20 years ago, Taika Waititi got started, went from that to Eagle vs Shark, and lots of other things. Andrea Arnold with Wasp, also 2005. Martin McDonagh, the short film Six Shooter in 2006. Shane Acker had his animated short 9, which became a feature film 9.

Damien Chazelle had Whiplash, the short version of it, which was a proof of concept, which became the film. It’s a short film, but it got attention. Jim Cummings with Thunder Road from Sundance, the Grand Jury Prize. David Sandberg, Lights Out, which started as a short. I always send people to Lights Out because it is just such a great, small, little short concept, and they were able to make the feature version of that.

Those are all great success stories. What’s tougher to find, it’s un-Googleable, is the silent evidence of the people who had really great short films that got attention, they got an Academy Award, then you can look up and say, “What have they been doing since then?” unless you call them up and ask, “What went wrong, or what happened?”

It’s because they were all at this moment that you’re at right now, which is they have the heat, they have the attention, and what do they do next? A little spoiler, you are thinking about a feature version of the short as one of the things?

Natalie: We are, yes. I think that we have the advantage of being slightly older, and having had careers in a different field, and coming to the film industry with our first short, it was quite naively, and now less naively. I think that’s an advantage for us. At the same time, I think one of the reasons that people are very interested in the short, but also in other projects that we’re pitching, is because in this moment, when it’s very difficult to get people, the high concept or more absurdist-leaning films are the ones that are working. That is what comes naturally to us. A lot of our ideas are–

Alexandre: The A24 and Neon things, which they’re a little bit bigger swings.

John: Bigger swings–

Natalie: Also, one of the reasons that we did this shift in our careers was because what we love about cinema is the relationship to the public and to the audience, which is very different than it is in the visual arts. Really, you make an artwork, and you hope that people will have a response to it, but really, there’s no relationship between a painting and an audience in the way that there is in a movie theater.

John: You have very different audiences. You have the random museum goer, but you also have the curation aspect of that, and who are the tastemakers, decision makers? That’s all a very different thing.

Natalie: Yes. The tastemakers in the visual art world are the key to everything, whereas in the film world, the audience is everything. When you’re making a film, you’re entering a contract with the public, and you’re saying, “Over this period of time, whether it’s 36 minutes or 2 hours or 3 1/2 hours, I will take you on a journey, and it will be worth your time and the money that you spend to come here.”

Alexandre: “We will challenge you, we will push you away, we will bring you in, we’ll make you laugh, we’ll make you cry.”

Natalie: We came to it with an incredible amount of generosity towards the audience. “We’re making a weird film, but we’ve made it with a lot of heart.” I think that comes through. It was those things that have made the film very attractive to people, and the fact that we do want to make things that are– Joachim Trier is a perfect example. Recently, he said, “Tenderness is the new punk,” and we could not agree more. For us, a film cannot just be high-concept. It needs to have that emotional heart. It’s those two things in concert with one another that we try to achieve with the short, and that we hope every single feature that hopefully we make in the future will have as well.

John: I want to talk about the feature version of the short, which there’s lots of challenges to do that because the engines are going to be different for that kind of situation. You could approach this as, like Damien Chazelle did with Whiplash, “I have a vision for a feature film, and here’s the short that is a proof of concept that lets me expand into that.” I see so many people who try to do short films that are just shorter versions of their feature film, and they are almost always terrible because they don’t have the engine for a successful short film. They don’t have the setup development payoff, the joke structure that you’d actually need for a short film to work.

In your case, I can’t imagine you actually would have written the feature version of this first. It was just because the short film exists and you actually know the world, and you can think about, “Where does it want to go?” that it makes sense to try to do a feature version of it, knowing that it’s going to be different and it’s not the same thing as it’s going to work in the feature version.

Alexandre: In some ways, we’re adapting a short film that we have seen and loved, and that really spoke to us, and we have ideas about how we would expand that world and what we believe to be the emotional throughline of the story, the vertebra that we would hang the story on, and what the larger engine would be.

John: That’s proof of concept. There’s also, I would say, a proof of execution. You talk, Alexandre, about you realize you have a voice and you have taste. Basically, you have a way of presenting the world. You were saying that tenderness is the new punk. That vision could be applied to a different movie. As you’re having conversations with people or pitching other things that you want to do, if it fits in the same space that they’re seeing from this first film, that’s really helpful. If you were to show up with this short film and say, “I really want to do an animated story about gnomes,” I’m just like, “I’m not so sure.” “I want to do a dark and grungy thing that is completely different than this,” everyone’s like, “That’s not helpful for me. I can’t help you there.”

Natalie: I think that would be really tricky.

Alexandre: One of our strengths is, and this comes from maybe a visual or background, is that we have a lot of ideas all the time. Out of those ideas, many of those ideas are not necessarily in our lane, in our wheelhouse. Sure, we could tell a Sundance coming-of-age story. We have ideas for those kind of stories, but we have enough stories that very much echo the qualities that people have been attracted to in the short. In these meetings and conversations, I think it’s been a very natural fit because the ideas that we’re pitching really resonates with what they’ve seen us execute with the short film.

Natalie: Before, I was talking about cinema-going and how there’s been a decline, and at least studios feel like we need more films like this. It’s also the times that we’re living in. We’re living in a moment where the ridiculous and the horrific are side by side like almost never before, or at least in a while now. I think that there is something about that. There’s a tonal line that we’re constantly–

Alexandre: There’s an urgency that we feel as storytellers that I think the people we’re meeting with are feeling. Our film is not a necessarily political film in a didactic sense. It’s not a PSA at the end where there’s a little chiron that gives you facts that, “In France, many people are put into boxes because they have…” [laughter]

John: It’s absurdist in the way Terry Gilliam films are absurdist. It’s a sense of this is a crazy world, but you can see the clear parallels to Brazil.

Alexandre: As crazy as Brazil is, there are aspects of Brazil that chill us and that have resonances with today. I think often of that scene where it’s Michael Palin who is a torturer and Michael Palin comes out covered in blood, and they have a conversation about their children. That is actually a feeling that inspires our film, that dissonance between the everyday comfort of the society that we’re existing in right now, where I’m drinking some tea, having a wonderful conversation with John in this beautiful location in Los Angeles, meanwhile, we’ve just been experiencing what’s been happening in Minneapolis, in Maine, what is happening in Iran right now. All these things are happening at the same time, and how do we, as human beings, navigate that and find meaning in our lives in these very dissonant moments?

John: You said two or three months before the nominations is really when you actually felt like a change happened, and it was actually very meaningful. When did you recognize that something had shifted? Was it the amount of incoming calls and emails, and you started to have meetings with reps, and figuring out where you wanted to go next? Talk to us about that time and what decisions you had to make.

Alexandre: I would say I had an image that came into my mind around this moment that somewhere on the planet there was a switch and that someone flipped this switch. Suddenly, as in a 1960s Hanna-Barbera cartoon, we are running after the industry. Suddenly, we exit frame. Suddenly, we’re running back the other way, and they’re running after us. How that happened, what that was, we felt that suddenly there was a switch that flipped.

Natalie: In 24 hours, we met with all the agencies, and not because we had planned it that way. It just happened to be that there was a confluence of events. We were also just out there in the world in a way that we normally aren’t, because as people that come from the arts, we are a little bit more interior-facing. We’re used to being in our little cubby, writing one in front of the other. Suddenly, we were really out in the world showing the film in a very public way. All of that attention– Our trailer had just come out on Deadline, too. Suddenly, there was a flood of emails in our inbox, “We would like to see the-

John: Full short.

Natalie: -full short.” Then meetings started to happen, and everything was one after another. There was a pressure to make a decision right away, which was very stressful. At the same time, now that we have representation, it’s opened so many doors. We really were skeptical. Is this a useful thing? There were some people that were advising us, “Don’t tie yourself down. It’s great to be an independent agent.” As two people that do not come from the film industry, this has been incredibly helpful for us.

Alexandre: We’ve had the experience coming from visual art of being the little engine pushing all those carriages up the hill, raising the money, producing it ourselves, building the sets ourselves.

Natalie: Alex taught himself VFX for this film because we didn’t have the budget.

Alexandre: I did a pre-visualization of the whole film in Blender, so a 3D animation of the film. We’re used to doing everything. I think it’s good to keep having that energy, but all that representation is very additive. Suddenly, you are accelerating. It’s like in Mario Kart when you go with the lines, and suddenly you start to go faster. It increases momentum.

Natalie: There was just so many things that happened all at the same time.

Alexandre: A lot of luck. I think luck is something that we don’t appreciate. So many people are lucky the first time. They begin life, like a game of Monopoly, and they roll double six, and then they roll double six again, and they roll double six again. Suddenly, they’re sitting in, be it a creative field, or they invested in cryptocurrency, or they are the richest man in the world, and they don’t realize that so much of that was luck. We are just as creative and hardworking as so many of our friends, and we just happen to be in the right position at the right time.

That said, we’ve had full careers in the visual arts. This hasn’t happened one week coming out of film school at age 21, but still getting the cast that we got to say yes, shooting the film, and the building not burning down, or no one having a heart attack, or all the things that could go wrong on a film–

John: It’s not just all the things that went right. It’s all the things that could have gone wrong, which somehow you avoided.

Alexandre: Also, the same is true for the life of the film. You get into that festival. It just happens to be, for example, at Telluride, those shorts are selected by Barry Jenkins, who chose our short because he has an affinity for French, black, and white cinema, and then has gone on to support the film. So many of these encounters and things that have happened professionally have been a mixture of luck and our hard work.

Natalie: We find ourselves here today because of a chance encounter.

John: I want to go back because, Drew, can you take a look and figure out when did we first get contacted about this short?

Drew: Good question.

John: Because I know we got it–

Natalie: I’m sure our publicist– [laughs]

John: It was your publicist, because your publicist has been dogged, which is great. It totally makes sense. I was thinking it’s both a fire burns, but also people were scraping sparks there a lot.

Alexandre: Yes, very much so. The publicist was dogged because we said, a year ago, “Oh, wouldn’t it be amazing if we could go on Scriptnotes? It will be a dream come true.”

Natalie: Really, this is where our cinema education begins. For us, this is a dream come true in many ways.

Alexandre: A similar thing happened with Charli XCX, who wrote a review of our film on Letterboxd. Around a year ago, her Letterboxd account was made public. I was watching TikToks where she was talking about a film– I think you recently talked about her Substack on the– I was thinking, “She is really incredible. She has incredible taste. She’s very smart. I think she would really like our film.” We did what anyone would do. We asked, “Does anybody know her neighbors, gardeners, dog walkers?” We went in so many directions. Nothing happened for an entire year. Eventually, our manager said, “Let me just reach out to her agent.”

Natalie: No, it was still like one person led to another person led to another person.

Alexandre: I’m at home flicking through Letterboxd, and I follow Charli. She’s one of my “friends” on Letterboxd. Suddenly, she posts about a film, and it’s our film. I think I jumped off the couch. I was so excited.

John: Did you find the first email?

Drew: December 22nd, 2025.

John: That’s pretty recently. That’s pretty recently. My manager separately had reached out, so that’s another connection. Clearly, he probably had a meeting with you or his company had meetings with you about stuff. Also sent it to me. Then, of course, Matt Byrne, who was my former assistant, had met you randomly at a party and made these connections. We talk on the show so often about, “Do you need to live in Los Angeles? Do you need to live in New York?” No, you don’t, but the fact that you were in New York at the same time there and at a party, just being around people who are doing the thing you can do, leads to the chance of encounters. If you were just in a house in Maine, it would be less likely for that to have happened.

Natalie: For sure. I mean, it’s incredibly helpful being in New York or LA. I mean, we’ve been here quite a bit as a result of all of this. That being said, I think going on the festival journey was also really valuable. That was the first step, really. It’s just making friends in the industry. Not people above you, but that are trying-

Alexandre: Your peers.

Natalie: -to do the exact same thing, that are doing the exact same thing, and really just connecting on a creative level.

Alexandre: We’ve met filmmakers who are the equivalent of someone who lives in the woods in Maine, who then goes on the festival circuit and meets lots of people and then returns home to recharge and doesn’t have to pay New York City rents.

John: There are helpful things about living in the hub of all this stuff. From the podcast, you know that Drew went off and made a short film that he’s now submitting to festivals. He has learned a bunch of stuff. I thought we might learn from what he’s learned and get your feedback on how the experiences overlap.

Drew: It sounds like they already figured it out before. I had to go through a process to figure it out, but I wrote a bunch of stuff as I was going of, “Oh, this is–” and tell me if I’m wrong too on any of this. First one was, part of why the comedy isn’t working is because I’m shooting this like a drama. There’s a difference, and it’s not just letting things live in the wide.

Natalie: Interesting.

John: Do you consider your short a comedy or a drama?

Alexandre: It’s absurdist, but–

Natalie: It’s absurdist. I would say that we categorize it as an absurdist drama, which means that it has–

John: Is it dramedy?

Natalie: I just call it absurdist. It has elements of comedy in it.

Alexandre: Without sounding too highfalutin and egotistical, Shakespeare’s work mixes pathos and bathos, I think, of the Grave Digger scene in Hamlet. Joachim Trier’s work, within the same scene, it’s mixing comedy and serious drama together. As to the question as to whether comedy works more in the wide,– That is–

John: Well, it does, but there’s some ineffable thing that in previous shorts I’d done, it was much funnier, that tended to be the cheaper stuff that I did. Then doing this, and it looks beautiful, and we have all these beautiful lenses, and it feels so heavy. I’m trying to figure out if that’s framing or if that’s light or what it is, but I’m trying to get to the heart of it.

Alexandre: It’s hard to say because sometimes comedy really comes from editing and pacing whereas a joke is about delivery, and that involves cutting and coverage in some ways. Sometimes comedy comes from the awkward and the uncomfortable. I think, for example, of Ruben Östlund’s films where everything is happening on a wide, and this short is going on for a really long time, and I feel really uncomfortable, and the kind of Larry David idea of comedy, the uncomfortable idea of comedy. I think it’s difficult to say without having seen the film which direction something works or doesn’t work in.

John: Let’s talk about during production, you had an idea about takes.

Drew: Oh, yes. I wrote, more takes is actually better. Try letting actors do three or four takes on their own before you start redirecting.

Natalie: I think in an ideal scenario, you have more takes. In our experience, we just never get past take three because we always have to move on.

Alexandre: I have an idea that seven is the perfect amount of takes. The reason being that it takes two or three takes for everyone to just get into the flow of things, get warmed up, as it were.

John: For your DP to stop fiddling with things.

Alexandre: Yes. By four, five, and six, usually you’re going to hit your best, best takes. Then seven is your coverage, or just in case, or just so we all feel like we’ve covered it.

John: Do a weird one.

Alexandre: If you’re going to take nine, 10, 11, or 12, it’s because something isn’t working and that’s no shade on anybody. That’s because either something technically or we haven’t found it yet.

Natalie: That being said, Alex and I, we always do a complete pre-visualization of the film, especially because there are two of us and because we have very little onset experience, we need to have a plan going into the shoot. We cannot show up and just be like, let’s find it. That doesn’t mean we don’t deviate. We do deviate from time to time, but we’re always coming in knowing, okay, we do have a plan that works. There are parts of our film that are a one-to-one replica. I think that preparation is the most valuable thing for us.

John: I want to talk about the pre-visualization for a second too, because the next thing is film a popsicle stick version. What I did is I did a storyboard. That didn’t catch little things of like how long it takes for this person to walk from here to here. I really should have done, and it sounds like Alex, you used Blender, and that was so smart.

Alexandre: I’ve had the experience on our first short of doing storyboards drawn by hand in Photoshop, but it’s real drawing, and then being very reticent to change them because it took me a long time to draw them. Whereas in this pre-visualization, you are able to change shorts very quickly, change the blocking very quickly.

Natalie: It also meant that we could edit them together. First, we scanned all our environments using an app called Polycam, and then we created this 3D model. Then Alex, he would create these little marionettes, and he would put the camera in 30 different places. I would look at him and be like, [crosstalk] this is far too many options because obviously we’re not going to have 30 setups for each of these scenes. Sometimes even within those 30 setups, I’d be like, none of these are right. We would go in, and then we would find what is the most economical and also the best way to tell this particular scene.

Alexandre: One of the things about location scouting that we found quite difficult is that you’ll, on one day and one morning, go visit five locations. You have 20 minutes. Imagine we’re shooting in here, and my immediate thought is, oh, can we get a great wide if we were up there in that corner? Oh, we’re going to have to go get a ladder. There I am with the camera, not really quite comfortable. Whereas we can come in, we can scan it, not knowing whether we’re actually going to shoot in it.

Then as we’re cleaning up the model, I’ll be underneath the table because there was strange little jagged edges. Suddenly I see, oh, there’s a short where I see just John’s foot tapping. Oh, I would never have thought to do this, but this could be an interesting way to begin the scene. There was a lot of the inspiration process happened in the pre-visualization in the same way that as you’re writing, you have those moments in the shower where inspiration arrives, like a little elf suddenly appears on your shoulder. That happens over the weeks, months, days, years of the writing process.

Then also in the pre-production process, you are open to those moments of inspiration, just like as when you’re on set, you have your storyboard. Suddenly in the camera, we had a scene where our character, Angine, is dreaming about the girl she loves, Malice. She imagines herself wearing the iconic geometric black and white dress. As she is walking towards the changing booth, as we’re shooting it on the dolly, the camera suddenly started shifting down, booming by accident, like a mistake. Everybody suddenly stopped and said, that’s the short, this mistake.

That inspiration happened by accident. It’s about being open to all those moments. Maybe the drawn storyboards can, unless you’re Pixar and you’ve had 10 years to storyboard the shit out of this thing.

John: Even Pixar, they animate those things right away. Your last point I want to focus on is to this. It’s hard not to focus on what’s not happening in a take, but I need to figure out how to see what is happening. Here’s what I take from that is that if I’m looking at the monitor, my eye is drawn to everything that’s wrong. I’m trying to fix everything that’s wrong, but it’s hard for me to say, oh, that’s actually really good because you get distracted by all of the errors and it’s so hard to focus in on what’s right.

Natalie: I think the only thing that matters personally is the actor. Everyone that is watching the film is watching it for the first time most of the time. Hopefully, your film is so good that people will watch it a second and third and fourth time. Even when you’re watching it a second time, people just have a way of zeroing in on a person’s face because that is where all of the emotion. That is what they’re reading into.

Alexandre: We have 100 million years of evolution, which involves looking at people with two eyes and a nose and trying to figure out, does this person want to eat me or make love to me? Now they’re being sincere about it. Performance is what we are dialed into. Everything else can fall away. There’s a scene in the Coen brothers’ film Barton Fink where the studio boss, who has been asking him to make this boxing movie and he doesn’t know how to write it, hauls him back in.

In the previous scenes, he’d been so magnanimous and so generous and so like, oh, don’t worry about it. You’re a genius. You’re a New York author. I’m going to support you. He absolutely berates him and destroys him. During that scene, I think he has these lapels because it’s during the Second World War. His lapels are moving around like nobody’s business. It doesn’t matter. The performance is all that matters. I think Walter Murch said the same thing.

Natalie: It’s always the thing that I’m zeroing in on. It’s just like, what is happening on the actor’s face? Is it communicating what this scene is about? Because all the other stuff is noise.

Alexandre: There’s a thing that happens in filmmaking that I’ve rarely heard people talk about publicly, but I think is the most magical and beautiful part of filmmaking. We like to stand very close to the camera lens with those tiny little monitors. Whether we are really receptive to the character and the actor, whatever that thing is, that hybrid of the two, what they’re feeling at that moment. You’re watching the film on that little monitor, and suddenly you know that we have just shifted into the actual film. You just know that this is going to be projected for history.

Natalie: Hopefully.

Alexandre: Frankly, hopefully. For those 10 seconds and then it sort of like drifts away. That is one of the most almost like spiritual moments of filming that is so beautiful.

John: Yes, Drew. I think I would say is that, yes, you’re noticing all the things that aren’t working, but like Alexander is saying, there’s moments where you get that little vibe like, oh, that’s it. That’s it. Every day you’re basically chasing that. There’s times where I was like, I didn’t have that the whole time through, but I have the pieces to get me to that. Then you have to make the choice like, I guess I moved on because I’m going to have to stitch that together in editing.

Drew: I think one thing I was fighting was, so you get in the edit and then you watch a take that when you watched it, you were like, the actor’s not doing the right thing. Then you see like, oh, they’re doing something else that’s actually there’s value to that, of course. Like, oh, shit, I missed this gem that they were bringing and maybe push them away from something that could have been interesting.

John: Because you, you had a vision on your head.

Drew: I was like, yes, the character’s running in this direction. They were like, actually, if we go this path, it’s interesting.

Alexandre: Parathetically, having had not that much experience making films yet, when you’re on set and you’re doing a scene, it’s like play. It’s creative. Even though the clock is ticking and your first AD is hovering there whispering in your ear, you have to pretend like, [crosstalk] to use a cruder analogy, like making love, that you have all the time in the world and that you are completely relaxed and that you are here to play and you are here to play with one another and that your actors are creative collaborators, inspiring partners, and they’re offering ideas and you’re offering ideas back.

There are probably filmmakers who have a global totalitarian vision of what the film is and maybe like Hitchcock, they are manipulating their marionettes. I think you, Akim Trier, and all other great filmmakers have probably said it’s about this exchange and you’re playing tennis with them.

John: We have two listener questions that are surprisingly on topic here. Let’s start with this first one, who’s an Oscar-nominated filmmaker.

Drew: Unwrapped writes, “As a seasoned documentary filmmaker who earned an Oscar nomination in the mid-2010s, I’m struggling to move forward in the industry. I never secured representation after the nod because I was working comfortably in academia and assumed the nomination would keep doors open. Years later, after leaving academia, I found myself an Oscar-nominated filmmaker with a strong but limited body of work, a piece of evergreen IP, no representation, and no clear path into the current marketplace.

Is there any viable route for someone like me to secure representation in a business that now expects new heat, recent sales, or major attachments before anyone will even take a meeting, even though those require representation to achieve in the first place? I’m in a Catch-22.”

John: Here’s a person who was in your place and didn’t capitalize on the moment that things passed by. I think they need to do something new because you can’t rekindle off that older thing.

Natalie: I think you either have to create something new, like another short, unfortunately, that catches fire, or you have to write a feature that is undeniably great. I think that great scripts are hard to come by. I think that people are always searching for that next film that’s going to bring bodies into the theater.

Alexandre: I do have a theory about this topic, which is that the greatest films are made by 19-year-olds who don’t know what they’re doing and are just full of gusto and confidence and 45, 55, 65-year-olds, and I think of Milton writing Paradise Lost in his 80s when he was blind, who just at a certain point give up on trying to play the game. They’ve had enough of trying to write vampire stories because that’s fashionable. They’ve given up on trying to make a new Yellowstone.

They just write the thing that they really care about, paradoxically, that they don’t think will work in the marketplace whatsoever. Those are the kind of ideas that actually really grab people’s attention. It’s hard to say to someone to do that, but just really dig in.

Natalie: I do think it’s really important not to think about what the market wants and to make something that feels very true to yourself.

John: I would say that it feels like the doors are closed, but I think with some new thing, you have an advantage of getting those doors to open up again. If you made a short that you were submitting to things like, oh, you’re the Oscar-winning director of this other thing, they’re going to pay more attention to you, which is good, which is helpful.

Natalie: Yes, absolutely.

Drew: People love comebacks.

John: That’s also nice. Question from Leah.

Drew: Leah writes, I’m directing a short film and have a producer going out with offers to actors. Should we be attaching the script to the offer email or waiting for the agent to respond back and then sending the script to them? I’m not sure if agent emails have filters that put anything in the trash immediately, that has an attachment for someone they don’t know, or if it’s better to save time at the front end of the convo by preemptively sending the script.

John: What did you guys do for your script as you were going out after actors?

Alexandre: I think we always attached it.

Natalie: We always attached it.

Alexandre: It’s not enough time to have that back.

Natalie: The script was what attracted people. I think it’s really always important. People always ask us, how did you get this amazing cast? It’s like, we just asked. You always have to ask. You just never know.

Alexandre: In some ways, people don’t ask them and so they’re flattered. You never know. If they’re not interested, they’re not interested, and you may as well try.

John: It’s a short film also. It’s not secret information. It’s not a huge ask. If they’re curious, they’ll open up the PDF, look through it, and if it’s good, they’ll send it along. I don’t think it’s a problem.

Drew: Did you guys do cover letters to your actors?

Natalie: We did, always. I knew we do cover letters for the smallest thing. I’m like, would you like it?

[laughter]

Alexandre: No, we only wrote it to those actresses and that particular man. I think it’s always good to articulate. We’re not just going out to you because you’re well-known or because you’re a great actor. It’s because something about your work and who you are as a human being, because often, who they are as an artist, is woven into who they are as a human being. It profoundly touches us and connects with us and connects to this story. I think sincerity is a very powerful thing.

Natalie: Yes. The reasons that you want to work with someone should be very specific. We always take the time to articulate what that is and to write something that’s personal because when you’re making art, it is personal.

Alexandre: Can I ask a listener question?

Drew: Please.

[laughter]

Alexandre: I’ve always wanted to write in with a listener question, and this is much easier. Natalie and I have a four-year-old daughter. We have careers. I’m a visual artist. Natalie is an art historian. Those things have really been on the back burner whilst we were making this film, and specifically when we were making this campaign. Every week, I listen into a podcast, and I hear John and Craig talk about– I know John has Highland Software. He is making games. He’s also writing young adult fiction, and he’s also playing D&D on Sundays or-

John: Thursdays, yes.

Alexandre: On Thursdays, and also playing some video games.

John: Rarely, but occasionally, yes.

Alexandre: Then he’s also writing great feature film scripts, and then apparently also does a podcast, I’ve heard, as well. Where is this magic time machine where you are using– are your days 28, 32 hours long rather than 24?

John: No, it did– Drew, maybe you can help out.

Drew: I also have this question. I’m around John more than anyone else in my life.

John: I get a lot done, for sure. If I write two hours a day, that’s great. I get a lot done, but there’s a lot of other stuff I want to do, and I just find ways to do it. Also, I think I’m really good at recognizing the common patterns between things. The software stuff isn’t really that different than the filmmaking stuff I’m doing because I’m using Highland every day to write everything I’m doing. All the other stuff, too.

Drew: You have your to-do lists, which I think helps focus you quite a lot.

John: I’ve talked about this on the podcast before, but I have my daily list, which I print out a sheet that’s folded in fourths. It’s just what I’m going to do, things I need to do today. It’s a checklist of those things. There’s some stuff that’s pre-printed on there. My Duolingo and my other stuff that’s drastically done every day. I fill that list, and that’s my plan for the day. I get basically everything on that list done every day. That helps a lot. I try to make sure they are very– I’m writing the actual achievable thing that I can do.

That’s the next action aspect of it all. I make a list, and I get the things on the list done. That’s how it gets down to it. You have a four-year-old. Also, it’s recognizing that any plan fails against a child. It’s just like children are– they will take every bit of everything, but they’re also wonderful.

All right, it’s time for one cool thing. My one cool thing, keeping with this whole theme, is a short film. It’s a short film called Troy by Mike Donahue. It’s from two years ago, I think. It’s a comedy about this New York couple who become obsessed with their neighbor who is a sex worker. They get too involved in his life.

It’s really well done. It’s a perfect New Yorker short film. It’s exactly what you want from it. The YouTube algorithm just served it to me randomly, so thank you. It’s just really delightfully done. Troy by Mike Donahue. I’ll put a link in the show notes to that. Natalie, what do you have to share with us?

Natalie: I would like to share the New York Public Library’s picture collection, which is where we begin all of our projects. Oftentimes, even before we know what a story will be or a script will be, we’ll go in. It is a physical place in the New York Public Library on the 42nd Street, 5th Avenue.

Alexandre: The Lions Building.

Natalie: The Lions Building, the iconic building. It’s a room in which there are like-

Alexandre: 2.8 million images that have been cut out of books, newspapers, magazines over the last 50, 60 years. In an age where we are experiencing AI that is regurgitating images and art back to us, making us into Studio Ghibli characters. When visual research sometimes involves just typing in a location or an idea into Google and seeing the first-hand images that come back, which are always going to be the same images. There’s something about the serendipity of going into this place and digging through images that are not online, that are sometimes misclassified, that sometimes have a different image on the backside, and being inspired.

Natalie: Oftentimes, the story will take a turn because of something that we’ve seen in the picture collection. It’s just sort of a magical place for us, so we always come back to it.

John: A question, just because Alexander just completely took over your one cool thing. You’re married, and do you set a time of like, we’re going to stop being our creative selves at a certain point and just be a married couple?

Natalie: No, it’s impossible. Yes. No, I think that’s part of the fun, too. The triumphs we celebrate together, the disappointments we also get to weather together. I can’t really imagine it any other way. It became very obvious very early on that we would make a really good duo because we have the exact same taste and we love the exact same things, but we bring totally different things to the table. It ends up– I always get sad when duos break up because once they do start to make films independently, you can actually see what they brought. You’re like, oh, but you know, it was the combination.

John: Those brothers are so good together.

[laughter]

Alexandre: Which ones? There’s been a few.

John: That’s why I pick brothers. No, not those brothers. Yes.

Natalie: Yes. I feel really grateful that we work together and there are arguments here and there.

John: There’s creative friction.

Natalie: There’s creative friction from time to time, like in any duo. At the same time, I would say 90% of the time we agree, and when we don’t, it’s the detail that no one really cares about but us. That’s part of the fun, too.

Alexandre: Writing and directing requires so many different types of skillsets. You need to be the introverted person sitting in your bathrobe, hunched over a typewriter for months on end in a Los Angeles hotel, and you also need to be the extrovert on the can-read carpet getting your photo taken, wheeling and dealing. Whilst we can have that schizophrenic quality sometimes, it’s much easier if that can be reflected in your creative partnership, obviously the writers, the directors, the producers, all bringing complementary things to the table, but always having the same idea of what film we’re making.

Natalie: I always joke that it’s easier to write together and to work together than it is to parent together. Not because we don’t get along in that either, but just because having a child is just like the ultimate work of art. I’m like, it’s an uncontrollable one with no end. Alex really treated our child for the first three months as a pre-production.

Alexandre: Yes, I’m going to do this, it’s going to be perfect.

Natalie: Then three months in, he’s like, oh my God, this never ends. He’s like, I can’t bring this energy 24-7 forever. It’s all a pleasure, and it’s all part of the magical ride that is living.

John: Alexandra, what’s your wonderful thing?

Alexandre: I did hesitate. For a long time, I thought, maybe my remarkable tablet, which means-

John: Oh, yes, I love those. Talk to me about how you use it.

Alexandre: Actually, that was my not actually wonderful thing, if you allow me. The remarkable tablet is a E-ink display that you can write on that has a very stripped-down interface. I come from the generation of people who wrote in many notebooks with a beautiful fountain pen, and then ended up carrying around seven or eight notebooks and destroying my back. I can use it for writing ideas. For school meetings, whatever it is. It has enough satisfaction. I know Craig has complained about the glassy feel of an iPad. It’s not as beautiful as a fountain pen, but it is still very satisfying.

As someone who will take notes in every meeting, sometimes I won’t even read those notes back, but the act of writing by hand helps the information go into my brain. I’m going to cheat a little bit because actually, this being script notes, I would like to bring to you a game.

John: All right, which is?

Alexandre: I don’t know if you’re familiar with this game. In very long car rides as a child, the only games that I think we had were 20 questions and what am I seeing out the window eyes wide?

John: A hand.

Alexandre: There’s a game that my friend, the novelist Benjamin Hale told me about, which he has deemed stinky pinky, but you may know under a different name. It is a game in which you put together a adjective and a noun, and the answer is something that rhymes. For example, the name of the game is, the explanation. If I was to say to you, smelly finger, you would think about it and say stinky pinky. For example, I can give you a very easy one. Overweight feline.

John: It’s a fat cat.

Alexandre: Exactly. Part of the pleasure is deciphering it, but part of the pleasure is coming up with them. For example, one of my favorites, which is a very hard one, I’ll give it to you, but with no expectation that you’ll get it, is dashing pirate.

John: All right a-

Alexandre: This is the hardest one I’ve ever come up with. It’s debonair corsair.

John: Debonair corsair. Very nice.

Alexandre: The clue, this involves French. False enemy.

John: Faux foe.

Alexandre: Yes. Isn’t this a fun game?

John: Yes, it’s a fun game.

Alexandre: The great thing is it’s great for car rides. It’s great for airports if you’re into puzzles. You can play with your children and set easier ones. You can come up with devilishly difficult ones.

John: It’s also very Craig, so he will enjoy it.

Alexandre: I think he might enjoy it. Stinky pinky.

John: That is our show for this week. Script Notes is produced by Drew Marquardt, edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our outro this week is by Nick Moore. If you have an outro, you can send us a link to ask at johnaugust.com. That’s also the place where you can send questions like the ones we answered today. Thank you to John Pope, our DP for this episode. We’re trying this out on video. You’ll find the transcripts at johnaugust.com, along with a sign-up for our weekly newsletter called Interesting, which has lots of links to things about writing. The Script Notes book is available wherever you buy books.

You can find clips and other helpful video on our YouTube to search for Script Notes and give us a follow. You’ll find us on Instagram at Script Notes Podcast. We have T-shirts and hoodies and drinkware. You’ll find those at Cotton Bureau. You can find the show notes with links to all the things we talked about today. In the email, you get each week as a premium subscriber. Thank you to all our premium subscribers. You make it possible for us to do this each and every week. Are you guys premium subscribers?

Natalie: We are. Yes. Yes, I think so. All right.

John: You get the bonus segment, so you’re familiar with it. You can sign up to become one at scriptnotes.net. We get all those back episodes and bonus segments like the one we’re about to record on black and white. Natalie and Alexandra, thank you so much. Congratulations.

Natalie: Thank you so much. This is such a pleasure.

[Bonus Segment]

John: All right. Your film is released in black and white. Talk to me about when the decision was to do this in black and white. Were you black and white on the set? I assume you shoot color and then color time it down to black and white. Talk to us about all the decisions to do black and white.

Natalie: It was a really early decision. Part of it was that we just didn’t have control over the store. We’re shooting between midnight and 6:00 AM. The store had unusually long hours. It would be open at 9:00 AM and close at 9:00 PM. We would rush in the doors. We would have to have an hour-long break at 3:00 AM for lunch. All of which is to say we had very little time. In the morning, everything had to go back to normal. We were always choosing very carefully where are we placing our camera. By turning the film in black and white, we were imposing our own artistic aesthetic onto the store.

Alexandre: We knew that even before we visited the location. We’d been thinking about the Wim Wenders’s film Wings of Desire, which is mostly in black and white with some sections in color. That film has an iconic library, which I’d always been fascinated by. We’d spent a lot of time on Google checking out this library in real life. In color, I think the carpet is orange. You have all the colors of the sleeves of the books. It doesn’t have that-

John: Color’s distracting, yes.

Alexandre: It’s distracting. It doesn’t have that simplicity. We came to realize that black and white is a little bit like an x-ray. It shows you how things really are. Color distracts. That made sense in a society where the film is about observing and being observed. It’s a society in which joy and intimacy has been sucked out of the frame and where smell is actually an important component. Smell is very difficult to communicate in cinema. We thought that perhaps in the same way that when you remove one of the Senses, other sensors become heightened, that perhaps the black and white could-

Natalie: I’m not sure but it’s an idea.

Alexandre: It’s a theoretical idea.

Natalie: It also, someone commented the other day that the film is like boxes upon boxes upon boxes. By reducing the film to black and white, you really see the geometry, the lines of the store accentuated and then reverberated in the coffin, cardboard boxes.

Alexandre: Black and white is very compositional. When we draw storyboards, we draw in black and white. When I think of the end scene of our film, it involves a character of Malaise being viewed as a shadow on a wall. There’s almost a relationship to film noir there. There is something very graphical and compositional about black and white that is very attractive.

Natalie: It also allowed us to distance ourselves a little bit from our own world.

John: The time period of this. I say we’re in Paris, but it’s not our Paris. It’s not what we’re familiar with. It’s not clear exactly what era we’re in. It’s like-

Natalie: I think you said there are cell phones and iPads.

John: There are cell phones. They have technologies, but it’s clearly not the same system. The cash registers don’t work the same because it’s all about slaps. It’s a heightened world. The black and white also helps you with the sense like this is heightened. This is not realism as you’re expecting.

Alexandre: It helps with the tonal questions. Tone was very important and one of the hardest things in the writing and execution of this film. This film doesn’t take place in a world where three weeks ago there was a virus that escaped from a lab and suddenly everybody started slapping each other in the face. It’s not science fiction. It’s not what the world could become.

Tonally, it’s absurd in the sense that it’s meant to be in the sense that our world is already absurd. The things that contributed to that were, for example, the names of the characters. The characters are not named Jack and Sally. They’re called Malaise and Longy.

Natalie: This is also one of the reasons why we felt really strongly that the film should have a narrator because the narrator isn’t there to give away any information. You take out the narrator and you still understand what is happening in this world and who these characters are, but the narrator is there for the tone.

John: Make it the fable of it all.

Natalie: Yes, the fable. Exactly.

John: On set, back to the black and white, were you looking at monitors that were just black and white so you could have a sense of what that was? I feel that would be really confusing if you weren’t looking at that final.

Natalie: Yes, it was also something we were talking about with our costume designer because obviously different shades, different colors, you need that contrast and it’s not immediately obvious which colors will create that contrast.

Alexandre: To get very technical and geeky, maybe too technical and geeky, but this is a film podcast.

John: Let’s do it.

Alexandre: There is an option now to actually shoot native black and white on, say, an ARRI camera by removing the Bayer sensor colors, which gives you, I think, maybe a stop or maybe two stops of extra light and locks in your decision to shoot in black and white. However, it does make the grading a little bit more difficult and it definitely makes VFX and cleanup work more difficult because there’s less information to grab onto.

John: If you had grid screens to replace, for example, you don’t have a grid anymore.

Alexandre: Or even just tracking an object for information is very helpful.

John: You did not do that?

Natalie: No. We did shoot in color but we were always looking at a black and white. Obviously, it’s essential in the black and white dress that is at the core of the story.

Alexandre: Black and white is very much about surfaces, about textures, about reflections, about metallic. It’s about mirrors. We made a decision in the film to always have a mirror in every scene, so the camera’s either shooting into a mirror or a character’s looking at a mirror. That’s something that worked really well in black and white. It’s a very silvery kind of-.

Natalie: Then there are so many black and white films that we love. Not just older black and white films, but contemporary black and white films like the films of Pavel Pavlovsky, Ida, Cold War, and even Frances Ha, or The Lighthouse. Actually, when we made this, we didn’t realize how controversial it is to shoot in black and white. It’s one thing for a short, because obviously, the market is different, and the market barely exists for shorts. In a feature, we imagine that this film will still be in black and white, and it’s definitely something that we’re going to stick to, but it’s a hard sell because there are certain countries that will not distribute a black and white movie.

John: Frankenweenie is one of the last black and white studio films to be released, and it was a real problem. The kids, for the first time, they thought it was cool because they just had never seen black and white before.

Natalie: We like to joke because everyone always asks us, why did you make this film in black and white? We want to ask the opposite question, which is like, why did you choose color? Color is so much harder than black and white. It’s just, I don’t know, there’s something so seductive about a black and white image.

Alexandre: The rules that we’re imposing on film are kind of rules from the 70s and 80s when color film was great and black and white felt nostalgic. Anything that can make a film stand out is a plus.

John: All right. Congratulations again.

Alexandre: Thank you.

Links:

  • Two People Exchanging Saliva
  • Taika Waititi’s Two Cars One Night
  • Andrea Arnold’s Wasp
  • Martin McDonagh’s Six Shooter
  • Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash short film
  • Jim Cummings’ Thunder Road short film
  • David F. Sandberg’s Lights Out short
  • Troy by Mike Donahue
  • The New York Public Library’s Picture Collection
  • ReMarkable tablet
  • Get your copy of the Scriptnotes book!
  • Get a Scriptnotes T-shirt!
  • Check out the Inneresting Newsletter
  • Become a Scriptnotes Premium member, or gift a subscription
  • Subscribe to Scriptnotes on YouTube
  • Scriptnotes on Instagram and TikTok
  • John August on Bluesky and Instagram
  • Outro by Nick Moore (send us yours!)
  • Scriptnotes is produced by Drew Marquardt and edited by Matthew Chilelli. Our Director of Photography is Jonathan Pope.

Email us at ask@johnaugust.com

You can download the episode here.

« Previous Page
Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Newsletter

Inneresting Logo A Quote-Unquote Newsletter about Writing
Read Now

Explore

Projects

  • Aladdin (1)
  • Arlo Finch (27)
  • Big Fish (88)
  • Birdigo (2)
  • Charlie (39)
  • Charlie's Angels (16)
  • Chosen (2)
  • Corpse Bride (9)
  • Dead Projects (18)
  • Frankenweenie (10)
  • Go (29)
  • Karateka (4)
  • Monsterpocalypse (3)
  • One Hit Kill (6)
  • Ops (6)
  • Preacher (2)
  • Prince of Persia (13)
  • Shazam (6)
  • Snake People (6)
  • Tarzan (5)
  • The Nines (118)
  • The Remnants (12)
  • The Variant (22)

Apps

  • Bronson (14)
  • FDX Reader (11)
  • Fountain (32)
  • Highland (75)
  • Less IMDb (4)
  • Weekend Read (64)

Recommended Reading

  • First Person (87)
  • Geek Alert (151)
  • WGA (162)
  • Workspace (19)

Screenwriting Q&A

  • Adaptation (65)
  • Directors (90)
  • Education (49)
  • Film Industry (489)
  • Formatting (128)
  • Genres (89)
  • Glossary (6)
  • Pitches (29)
  • Producers (59)
  • Psych 101 (118)
  • Rights and Copyright (96)
  • So-Called Experts (47)
  • Story and Plot (170)
  • Television (165)
  • Treatments (21)
  • Words on the page (237)
  • Writing Process (177)

More screenwriting Q&A at screenwriting.io

© 2026 John August — All Rights Reserved.