Decoding the DNA of Your Story

Producer Ken Aguado, my co-author on The Hollywood Pitching Bible, likes to say that loglines are the DNA of the movie. Usually he’s talking about the pitching process – how the logline has to capture the essence of the story so that it intrigues the listener. And then of course the story has to deliver on the promise of that logline. That’s why it’s the DNA – it contains the seed of the whole thing.

But this concept is also important for writing your screenplay. If you don’t have a clear understanding of the core essence of your story, then it is all too easy to wander around and get lost on narrative side streets. It seems obvious that you would understand your own concept, but I’ve seen many screenplays that have failed to follow through on the promise of the initial idea.

Let’s pause to define terms. A logline is a one or two sentence statement of your concept that is about 25 - 30 words long. A good logline is one that captures the thrust of the story and what makes that story compelling – in other words, what’s cool about the idea.

Usually a logline is not the starting point of a story idea in a writer’s mind. I haven’t heard too many screenwriters say a logline popped fully-formed into their head from which they then built a story. No, usually we are inspired by an idea for a situation or a character or a setting or a cool scene. One of these ideas leads to another, and we slowly gather mental material until a story starts to take shape.

But before you start writing that first draft, you should boil the story down to a core concept, a logline. Understanding the DNA of your story will help you decide which of the other ideas fit and which should be tossed or saved for a later story.

Easy to say, harder to do.

To figure out the essence of your story, there are a few things to consider. What is the most interesting and cool aspect of your premise? What made you want to write this story? What is the major dilemma and the biggest obstacle the character will face? What will the bulk of the action on screen be about?

Lets take an example. Imagine you were writing a logline for Liar Liar (written by Paul Guay & Stephen Mazur). Here are three possibilities:

1. Liar Liar is the story of a boy who uses a birthday wish to get his workaholic father’s attention.

2. Liar Liar is the story of a sleazy lawyer who is forced by his son’s birthday wish to tell the truth for 24 hours.

3. Liar Liar is the story of a sleazy lawyer who has to win a divorce case despite a curse.

All are accurate. All are functional loglines for a movie. Only the second captures the DNA of Liar Liar. What’s interesting about the story of Liar Liar is the idea of a sleazy lawyer being forced to tell the truth. That’s what most of the action is about. Of course you could write a script based on one of the other loglines, but it would come out a very different movie.

I once heard Doug Liman talking about directing Mr. & Mrs. Smith (written by Simon Kinberg). He said he realized the core thematic concept of the movie was, “Being a spy is easy, being married is hard.” This mantra affected every choice he made. For example, in the minivan car chase, he kept the camera inside the minivan where the two characters were arguing about their marriage. The action part of the scene was mainly viewed through the windows behind them. This is the opposite of how most car chases are filmed, but it fit with the core DNA of this particular movie.

Another question to ask is: what will the main action of act two be? That’s the bulk of your movie. Your logline should reflect that (and your act two should reflect your logline). For example, is Little Miss Sunshine (written by Michael Arndt) the story of a girl competing in a beauty pageant or a family on a road trip?

If you chose the former, then act two should be about the pageant. Your logline might be something like, “A little girl dreams of being a beauty queen, but doesn’t fit in with the creepy, polished contestants at a child pageant.” And if you gave that logline, people would expect a script mainly set in the world of child pageants, not in a yellow van.

Michael Arndt chose to write a movie about a family road trip. So an appropriate logline for the actual Little Miss Sunshine would be something like, “A dysfunctional family takes a road trip so their youngest daughter can compete in a pageant. As one disaster follows another, they learn how to support each other.”

When you start boiling stories down to a handful of words, one problem is they start to sound a lot alike. To combat this, make the details as specific as possible. Also, it’s hard to come up with originality in plot. Usually what makes a premise original is the character. For example, imagine you were creating a logline for Pacific Rim (story by Travis Beacham, screenplay by Travis Beacham & Guillermo del Toro). You might say:

“Pacific Rim is the story of giant robots defending Earth from giant monsters from another dimension.”

The problem isn’t that that logline is inaccurate or that it fails to capture the main thrust of the movie, it’s that robots fighting monsters sounds like something we’ve seen before. It sounds like an old B movie, or about a thousand different Anime films. It also feels mechanical and uninvolving, something only hardcore geeks would like. But what if instead you made the logline:

“Pacific Rim is about a soldier, grieving over the death of his brother, who must face his fears so he can pilot a giant robot when huge monsters invade Earth.”

Now you’re starting to get to a story that sounds original and emotional. (In my opinion, the movie did a poor job delivering on this concept, but the problem was in the execution, not the premise.)

Creating a good logline is not easy. It can take a lot of thought and revision. You really have to dig into your story and figure out which version of the idea you want to tell. But once you have a good logline, you can move forward confident you know the DNA of your screenplay.

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Speaking of The Hollywood Pitching Bible, check out the trailer we made.

Character Interview - Paul Guay

Continuing my series of interviews on character, today we have Paul Guay.

Paul Guay’s films have grossed over half a billion dollars.  He conceived and co-wrote Liar, Liar and co-wrote The Little Rascals and Heartbreakers.  He’s working on several new projects, all of them with characters.  In his spare time, he is a script consultant.

Q.What is required for a compelling character?

For me, movies (and other narrative arts) consist of interesting people doing interesting things.

 
Compelling characters are heroes (or antiheroes) whose needs I care about.  

Q. What is your approach to building a character?

Story is character revealed in action.  It’s not either/or, plot or character; it’s and/and, both.  Therefore, I build story and character simultaneously.  

If I start with a central story idea, my first question is:   what kind of character (and what kind of needs) will let me get (or force me to get) the most out of that idea?  What kind of character arc will illuminate the idea and reveal the character in the most fulfilling way?  

What is the most satisfying journey for this character to go on?  And who is the most satisfying character to go on this journey?

That said, I don't really know my characters till they start to talk.

Q. How much back story do you create for your main character before you start writing?

None per se.  I don’t know what my hero wore when he was nine.  But I do jot down every idea and characteristic and line of dialogue and scene and setpiece that comes to mind while I’m brainstorming.  Some of them will wind up in the final script, fleshing out my character, and I have the rest to draw on if I need them.

Sometimes, of course, a script will call for a backstory to be articulated by one character or another, or shown onscreen.  In those cases, I steal.

Q. What is the most important thing(s) you need to know about your character before you start writing?

His height.  And what he needs.

Q. Do you base your characters on people you know or imagine stars in the part as you write?

I don’t base my characters on people I know, but I do borrow some of their characteristics – their walks, their interests, their idiosyncrasies.

Some of my characters are partly autobiographical, but so far I’ve been unsuccessful in persuading studios to pay me $15 million to act in my films.  So I have to settle for stars.    

When I first started writing, I was aiming at Tom Hanks and Steve Martin.  Liar, Liar wasn’t written for one particular star, but it attracted first Hugh Grant and then Jim Carrey.  When my then-partner and I rewrote Heartbreakers we weren’t writing for one particular star, but the script attracted first Anjelica Huston and Alicia Silverstone, then Cher, then Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt.  And for a cameo in The Little Rascals we landed our next President, Donald Trump.  So you never know.

Thanks Paul!  Next up I thought we’d hear from a novelist - my sister, Chris Eboch, who has several published novels including The Well of Sacrifice, The Eyes of Pharaoh and the Haunted series.   It will be interesting to see if she has a different take on creating character than the screenwriters.  After that, we’ll hear from Eric Heisserer (Final Destination 5, A Nightmare on Elm Street)

Interview with Paul Guay - Part 2

Here is part 2 of my interview with Paul Guay

Doug: How do you develop your characters?

Paul: Just add adjectives till something sticks.

If I’m writing a high-concept film, the concept implies the protagonist’s character arc (and vice versa). For example, Liar, Liar is about a birthday wish which requires the protagonist to tell the truth for 24 hours. Therefore, the protagonist must be someone who is incapable of, or hates, telling the truth. What might that kind of person do for a living? What kind of problems might arise personally and professionally if he’s suddenly unable to lie?

Plot is the revelation (and the changing) of character through action. So if I do my job right, my plot requires certain things from my characters and my characters require certain things from my plot. The characters and the plot grow together.

That said, I don’t have anything more than a theoretical fix on my characters until I start typing their dialogue and hear what they sound like. I’ll edit and make choices and adjustments and changes, but it’s not until I hear them talking that I really know who they are. When I hear them singing, I’m home free.

Doug: What’s the biggest mistake you see neophyte writers make?

Paul: Not hiring me as their Script Consultant.

The two biggest mistakes are choosing subject matter that’s not marketable and beginning to write too soon.

I have a lot of ideas for scripts, but when I finish a script it always takes me awhile to choose my next spec because it has to be something a) that I love enough that I want to spend the next six to 12 months of my life writing it (yes, I do assignments much faster, but we’re talking about specs here) and b) that I think enough people will want to see that a studio will choose it from the 180,000 or so scripts that are written every year and will be overjoyed to spend $71 million to make it and $36 million to market it, which were the average costs for a studio film in 2007.

Many neophyte writers ignore a), so they spend irreplaceable months of their lives on something they don’t love, or they ignore b), so they spend irreplaceable months of their lives on something they can’t sell. Of course, even with a passionate writer and a commercial subject no script is guaranteed to sell... but it sure beats the alternative.

The other major mistake I see is that writers go to draft too soon. I see remarkably-good ideas go to waste when writers didn’t spend the time to brainstorm, to ask “What if?”, to explore alternatives, to ask themselves, “Given this premise, given these characters, what’s everything that could happen?”, then didn’t sift through all those jokes and scenes and bits and arcs and setpieces to choose the best and forge them together into the strongest-possible whole.

Doug: You frequently write with a partner. How does that work?

Paul: I get the pit. He gets the pendulum.

Doug: Do you sit in a room together and toss around jokes, or do you divide up the scenes and write separately?

Paul: I’ve written different ways with different partners. Usually we do the brainstorming and outlining together. Then either I’ll type while my partner looks at the monitor and throws out hilarious lines, especially if it’s a comedy, while keeping tabs on the plot and tone and character choices and advising me when I’m typing seven different approaches to a scene that we really can stop at five... or we’ll take the first two scenes, divide them, write separately, move on to the next two scenes, etc.

Doug: How many drafts does it usually take before you feel like a script is ready?

Paul: The last spec I co-wrote, an action comedy called Blue Flu, went through 15 drafts. I don’t edit while I’m writing; I put down whatever comes into my head and know that I can choose and reshape and cut later. If I’m writing jokes, I might write five or 10 or 50 jokes for a particular line, and then as I do subsequent drafts, I’ll have a better and better idea which joke best reveals character, advances plot, pushes theme, and is funny.

This means, by the way, that my first drafts are long. But I find it much easier to make choices and reshape and cut once everything is written on the page and I can read the script as a whole.

I never send out a script until I think it’s ready. “Good enough” isn’t good enough; it has to be the most artistic and most commercial writing I’m capable of. It’s an extremely-competitive business; no one’s best guarantees a sale... but again, it sure beats the alternative. And I have pride in what I do. If I’m remembered for anything, it’ll be my writing. Or my height. But I have more control over my writing, and I’d like it to be remembered well.

Before my scripts go out, I give them to 10 friends who are working screenwriters. I want the benefit of their objectivity and their criticism so that what producers and directors and talent and studios see is as good as I can make it.

Doug: Liar, Liar was an enormous hit. What impact did that experience have on your career and on your creative process, positive or negative?

Paul: The career impact has been extremely positive; I now get the best table at my house. The only caveat is that sometimes when I pitch I’m told “That’s too similar to Liar, Liar” or “That’s too different from Liar, Liar.” I also get “That’s too visual,” but that’s another story.

In terms of my creative process, I probably put more pressure on myself to hit it out of the ballpark with each script than I did before. But that may also be a function of experience -- I know better than ever how challenging it can be to get a film made, so I put even more effort into making sure each script is as strong artistically and commercially as I can make it.

Doug: You sold Liar, Liar as a pitch. What do you think are the most important elements for a good pitch?

Paul: Choosing a story so compelling that moviegoers have to see it on opening night -- and telling it so well that your listeners “get” it in the telling. Don’t make them hunt for the gold; do the panning, do the sifting, then hand them the nuggets yourself.

Doug: Do you have any advice you wish someone had given you when you were just starting out?

Paul: Yes. Don’t bet on pro wrestling.

(c) 2009 Paul Guay. All rights reserved.

* * *

Paul Guay’s movies have grossed over half a billion dollars. He conceived and co-wrote Liar, Liar, at the time of its release the sixth-highest-grossing comedy in history. The screenplay received an Honorable Mention (along with Fargo, Million Dollar Baby, The Full Monty and Catch Me If You Can) in Scr(i)pt magazine’s list of the Best Scripts of the Past 10 Years.

Paul co-wrote The Little Rascals, Universal's second-highest-grossing film of the year, and co-wrote Heartbreakers, starring Sigourney Weaver, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Gene Hackman and Jason Lee, which opened #1 at the box office, and the rights to which he co-licensed to MGM for production as a stage musical.

Paul is a sought-after Script Consultant (www.LetsSchmooze.com/PaulGuay.html)

Interview with Paul Guay - Part 1

This week I'm posting an interview with my friend and fellow screenwriter Paul Guay whose credits include Liar, Liar, Heartbreakers, and The Little Rascals. This is part one. I'll post part two later in the week.

Doug: How did you get your start in screenwriting?

Paul: Mob connections.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer (and an actor, and one of the Three Stooges). I wrote my first short story at seven, my first poem at eight, my first play at nine, my first lyric at 16, my first comedy sketch at 18, my first radio play at 21.

I went to Menlo School, where Robert W.F. Jones started a creative-writing class for me. I was the only student in the class, and over the course of three semesters I turned in something like a thousand poems, lyrics and short stories. Mr. Jones is still in intensive care.

Then I went to Pomona College, where I majored in creative writing and philosophy. I figured if the career in writing didn't work out, I always had philosophy to fall back on.

I got a job at Producers Sales Organization (PSO), a film distribution and production company, doing marketing, advertising and publicity. I worked there five years, learned about the film industry, made contacts, and read scripts. Hundreds of scripts. I analyzed some of them, gave notes. I started learning what works, what doesn’t work, and why. I wrote taglines for posters, retitled films, wrote trailers and press releases. I learned how to sell movies to a buyer and an audience.

PSO acquired the rights to The NeverEnding Story, the best-selling fantasy novel by Michael Ende. We were executive-producing, putting together the financing and handling the foreign distribution, and we wanted to set the project up with a U.S. distributor. The problem was, the (excellent) screenplay by Wolfgang Petersen & Herman Weigel read as if it had been translated that morning from the German; it wasn’t in idiomatic English.

Mark Damon, the head of PSO, asked if I would be interested in polishing the script. I figured, great, this will be the best two weeks of my life. Mark told me he needed the polished script in 36 hours.

I did a few sample pages and was called into a meeting with the PSO brass. They asked me to read what I'd written. “Aloud?” I wondered. “Yes,” they observed. I did. They applauded. (I now put an applause clause into all my contracts.)

I went back to my desk and finished the polish in 36 hours. The project was subsequently picked up by Warner Bros., grossed $125 million worldwide, back when that was real money, and spawned two sequels.

I was approached by Simona Benzakein, who had produced a Cesar Award nominee for Best Picture in France. She and Christopher Lambert (Highlander, Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes) were putting together a drama called Central Park. A major screenwriter had been paid to write a treatment that they didn’t care for, and they wondered if I would start over and write a new screenplay for free.

Who could resist an offer like that?

When I turned in the screenplay, Simona read it and said, “This makes the years of waiting worthwhile." I took that as a compliment.

When I left PSO I hooked up with a writing partner. Our first spec screenplay together, a romantic comedy called Take Two, got us our first agent and some good meetings. Our second screenplay, a coming-of-age comedy-drama called The C-Note, got us our second agent and some great meetings. Our third screenplay, a horror comedy called Abra-Cadaver, got us our third agent and sold to Universal. (Anyone want to make it?)

Eventually we were called in to pitch for The Little Rascals. Another team was hired, months passed, and we learned the studio didn’t care for that team’s script. We were called in for a second pitch, we were hired, and because the rights to the characters were going to expire, we had 12 days to write the first draft. Butch hit us up for more lines, but the film was very successful.

So somewhere in there is how I got my start in screenwriting.

Doug: Do you break your stories down into three-act structure before writing?

Paul: Yes. I find the three-act structure an extremely-helpful way to organize material, and as an audience member I enjoy movies with beginnings, middles and ends.

Doug: How detailed an outline do you do before embarking on a script (if you do one)?

Paul: What’s an outline?

Oh, yes, those things. As it happens, I do do one. And it’s extremely detailed, because it’s more than just an outline; it’s every potentially-useful idea I have about the film, all in one place.

I begin by writing down everything that the concept or the protagonist or the secondary characters suggest to me, in no order whatsoever. On a spec, I spend weeks brainstorming bits and scenes and dialogue and character notes and character arcs and jokes.

After awhile it becomes clear what stuff goes at the beginning of the film, so I move all that to Act One, and what goes at the end of the film, so I move all that to Act Three. The rest, of course, is either Act Two or “Notes and Discards”... stuff I move to the end in case I find a use for it later.

Then I start to organize within each Act. Where does my movie begin? What’s the turning point or plot point, either halfway through Act One (roughly page 12 or 13 in a 100-page script) or by page 10 (if I follow the “rule” that readers need to be grabbed within the first 10 pages)? What’s my end of Act One, the moment at which I get my hero up a tree? What’s the logical progression of events between the beginning and the turning point? Between the turning point and the tree?

I do the same for Act Two, aiming to throw the biggest rocks at my hero around page 75.

I do the same for Act Three, aiming to get him down from the tree and done with his denouement and tag (with perhaps a hint of a sequel) around page 100.

I can’t imagine beginning a screenplay without an outline. I don’t want to be 50 pages into a script and have no idea where I’m going.

Nor can I imagine not writing down all the ideas I have about the film as they come to me, and then putting them in the outline. Doesn’t mean I have to use them, but I want to know they’re there.

(c) 2009 Paul Guay. All rights reserved.

Paul Guay’s movies have grossed over half a billion dollars. He conceived and co-wrote Liar, Liar, at the time of its release the sixth-highest-grossing comedy in history. The screenplay received an Honorable Mention (along with Fargo, Million Dollar Baby, The Full Monty and Catch Me If You Can) in Scr(i)pt magazine’s list of the Best Scripts of the Past 10 Years.

Paul co-wrote The Little Rascals, Universal's second-highest-grossing film of the year, and co-wrote Heartbreakers, starring Sigourney Weaver, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Gene Hackman and Jason Lee, which opened #1 at the box office, and the rights to which he co-licensed to MGM for production as a stage musical.

Paul is a sought-after Script Consultant (www.LetsSchmooze.com/PaulGuay.html).