INT. DcH's OFFICE - DAY
A less-than perfectly organized workspace that cries
out for a cleaning woman (or a maid in a French maid's uniform, duster and
all). Scripts are scattered everywhere -- just like the mind of DcH, 20's
(I wish), who sits at his desk in front of his computer in a semi-stupor,
clacking away on his keyboard. Clearly a genius who is waiting for
inspiration, and nothing is forthcoming. DcH stops typing, reaches for a
yellow pages book, thumbs through, finds what he's looking for:
"French Maids For Hire," accompanied by a provocative cartoon of a
lovely lady attired as such. DcH smiles wryly to himself, reaches for the
phone and starts to dial as he pulls out a pile of more scripts from his desk
and tosses them around the room.
Now, Mr. Morgan, many in the screenwriting business might say that the above
description is far too-wordy and that all of it is not pertinent to the story at
hand. That may be so. Most script consultants and screenwriters
would advise that the above description be cut back (like a
an overgrown yard that hasn't seen a gardener or a landscaper for more years
than you want to count). I would have to agree with them.
Because producers, especially nowadays, want to read sharply-written, taut
scripts (which includes description) -- translate: "They don't like
to read" -- you don't want to overdo it with the description factor.
A better, tighter version of the above would be:
INT. DcH's OFFICE - DAY
Messy. DcH, computer, yellow pages, French
Maid, phone, scripts.
Okay, that's a little too tight. Try this one:
INT. DcH's OFFICE - DAY
DcH, 20's, sits amidst clutter at his desk, typing
on his keyboard in front of a computer. He picks up a yellow pages book
and finds an ad for an outcall French Maid service. As he dials, he
scatters scripts on the floor, which is covered with more of the same.
I think my examples say it all. Or nothing at all. Either way, I
hope you get my point -- even though I'm not certain even I know what it
is. Obviously, I've been writing too many scripts (which are all over my
floor) and I'm starting to unravel at the seams (or slug lines).
You do want your description to be rather economically written and
integrated into the story. If you notice, description and action are often
written in a kind of shorthand, using the often-omnipresent comma more than the
period. If you can, "describe as you go," incorporating it with
the action. No one really wants to have to sit through a long description
of a location before the action begins. You find the aforementioned in
stage plays (an audience needs something to look at while latecomers are still
taking their seats) and in novels (I don't think I ever finished the classic,
superb--that's what they say, anyway-- novel, "Grapes of Wrath"
because of the extensive descriptions of the landscapes and weather and
whatnots, And where were the descriptions of the grapes!? I don't
remember any grapes.), but a screenplay is a completely different beast,
altogether. The director and D.P. will take care of the long pans of the
interiors and exteriors; that will all come out in the wash when we see the
finished product on the screen. WE WANT ACTION! Give us our engaging
opening; hook us with your hook; keep us intrigued with all the challenges the
hero/ine, who you've got us to care about, faces; walk us through the long
second act with surprises and reversals; throw us into the purging fire of
the third act and let us face our demons together with courage and
dignity!
JUST DON'T SLOW US DOWN WITH A LOT OF DESCRIPTION
WE'RE NOT INTERIOR DESIGNERS
WE'RE NOT LANDSCAPERS
WE HATE TO SAY THIS IN CASE IT OFFENDS THE NOVELIST IN YOU,
BUT:
WE DON'T CARE
Now, I, personally, don't mind a well-described and
poignantly-pinpointed moment in a screenplay. But it's those "other
guys" you have to convince. You can do it. Here's a good
formula:
1. Write all the description that comes to mind about a
scene without editing anything.
2. Now that you've descriptively expressed your expressive
self and gotten it all down, letting it all out, all the way to"... the
grime on the curtains that waft in the soft breeze that intermittently permeates
the room through the invisible cracks in the house that seemed to never be
built, but grew from the ashes of the ruins of an antiquity that would never die."
Now that you've expressed all that.
3. Now cut 9/10ths of it and you're there.
Problem solved. Glad I could help.
DcH