The Understructure of Writing for Film and Television Read online

  Your story has a build to it, then a moment of crisis when things seem hopeless, and finally a climactic moment or sequence of moments when a final effort is made to overcome the odds. In the example, Sally starts to get better.

  So, what is a dramatic conflict? It is the motivation of the protagonist to cope with a problem of major proportions in a situation in which his attempt to resolve the problem encounters serious obstacles. That opposition can come from within the protagonist, it can come from others outside, or it can come from some sort of physical or natural obstacle. Those are the only three sources of conflict. Let’s emphasize the idea of obstacle now. Sally is hurt: her obstacle is a physical one. She wants to ski again, but has to overcome paralysis.

  Conflict in a good play is rarely as simple as Sally’s. More often it will occur between people and require a good deal of their acting and reacting on one another before it comes clear. So let’s reemphasize the protagonist’s will to struggle with some opposing person (the antagonist) and think of conflict as a collision of wills. Your protagonist needs to do something in response to a problem. Someone (or something) else, your opposing force, won’t let him have his way. The ensuing personal struggle is a dramatic conflict. This conflict is the action of the play.

  Action causes a reaction that leads to new action that causes a chain of actions and reactions. This means that your play is made up of a series of minor conflicts. If there is no cause-and-effect struggle of this kind, nothing happens! Nothing arouses the audience’s emotions. Nothing holds their attention. Nothing excites their imagination or provokes their thought. If the first obligation of good drama is to involve emotions, the second is to stimulate and increase anxiety as imagination and intellect are aroused.

  3. What Is a Scene?

  A scene could be a picture on a postcard. Imagine such a scene coming to life: the sun rises or sets, the wind blows, the leaves drift. Each moment affects the next so that no succeeding minute is exactly like the last. You can never go back to what used to be: it has been changed by time.

  A postcard won’t hold our attention beyond the moment we look at it. But put someone in a position in which he or she has to act, and our interest deepens. A dramatic scene is the setting in which the protagonist tries to overcome the obstacle that stands in the way of his actual or imagined needs. A dramatic scene is not a setting in which people merely say things, but where they do things. The scene is where the dramatic action happens. A scene is also a sequence of that action—appearance of the problem for the protagonist, his effort to solve that problem when he reaches a point of failure (crisis), and his final effort to resolve his problem (climax).

  The Three Parts of a Scene

  Let’s look at the very simple but effective opening scene of Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather in which we are introduced into an odd, extralegal world with its own rules of honor and its own resources in three pages of immediate conflict. We experience this world in action and not in any other way. See if you can determine where the BEGINNING, MIDDLE, and END are that we just said were essentials of scene structure. Ask yourself these simple questions, which you should be able to answer for any scene, including the scenes you will write later:

  Who is the protagonist?

  What problem has appeared in his life that he must act to solve immediately?

  What obstacle—force or person—is opposing the action the protagonist takes to solve his problem? Who, in short, is the antagonist?

  What does the protagonist do?

  FADE IN:

  INT. DON CORLEONE’S OFFICE (SUMMER 1945) (EST) DAY

  The Paramount Logo is presented austerely over a black background. There is a moment’s hesitation, and then the simple words in white lettering:

  THE GODFATHER

  While this remains, we hear: “I believe in America.” Suddenly we are watching in CLOSE VIEW, AMERIGO BONASERA, a man of sixty, dressed in a black suit, on the verge of great emotion.

  BONASERA

  America has made my fortune.

  As he speaks, THE VIEW imperceptibly begins to loosen.

  BONASERA (CONT’D)

  I raised my daughter in the American fashion; I gave her freedom, but taught her never to dishonor her family. She found a boy friend, not an Italian. She went to the movies with him, stayed out late. Two months ago he took her for a drive, with another boy friend. They made her drink whiskey and then they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted; she kept her honor. So they beat her like an animal. When I went to the hospital her nose was broken, her jaw was shattered and held together by wire, and she could not even weep because of the pain.

  He can barely speak; he is weeping now.

  BONASERA (CONT’D)

  I went to the police like a good American. These two boys were arrested and brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in prison, and suspended the sentence.

  Suspended sentence! They went free that very day. I stood in the courtroom like a fool, and those bastards, they smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, for Justice, we must go to The Godfather.

  By now, the VIEW is full, and we SEE Don Corleone’s office in his home. The blinds are closed, and so the room is dark, and with patterned shadows. DON CORLEONE sits patiently behind his desk, TOM HAGEN sits near a small table, examining some paperwork, and SONNY CORLEONE stands impatiently by the window nearest his father, sipping from a glass of wine. We can HEAR music, and the laughter and voices of many people outside.

  DON CORLEONE

  Bonasera, we know each other for years, but this is the first time you come to me for help. I don’t remember the last time you invited me to your house for coffee . . . even though our wives are friends.

  BONASERA

  What do you want of me? I’ll give you anything you want, but do what I ask!

  DON CORLEONE

  And what is that, Bonasera?

  BONASERA whispers into the Don’s ear.

  DON CORLEONE

  No, you ask for too much.

  BONASERA

  I ask for Justice.

  DON CORLEONE

  The Court gave you justice.

  BONASERA

  An eye for an eye!

  DON CORLEONE

  But your daughter is still alive.

  BONASERA

  Then make them suffer as she suffers.

  How much shall I pay you?

  Both Hagen and Sonny react.

  DON CORLEONE

  You never think to protect yourself with real friends. You think it’s enough to be an American. All right, the Police protect you, there are Courts of Law, so you don’t need a friend like me. But now you come to me and say Don Corleone, you must give me justice. And you don’t ask in respect or friendship. And you don’t think to call me Godfather; instead you come to my house on the day my daughter is to be married and you ask me to do murder . . . for money.

  BONASERA

  America has been good to me . . .

  DON CORLEONE

  Then take the justice from the judge, the bitter with the sweet, Bonasera. But if you come to me with your friendship, your loyalty, then your enemies become my enemies, and then, believe me, they would fear you.

  Slowly, Bonasera bows his head and murmurs.

  BONASERA

  Be my friend.

  DON CORLEONE

  Good. From me you’ll get justice.

  BONASERA

  Godfather . . .

  DON CORLEONE

  Some day, and that day may never come, I would like to call upon you to do me services in return.

  FADE OUT1

  We are drawn into a dramatic situation immediately by Bonasera relating the beating of his daughter. Who is Bonasera? An elderly man, simply described, suffering from a typical miscarriage of justice. He wants something from Don Corleone—extralegal, illegal help—vengeance. He gives all this information to get the Godfather to do something for him.

  We see Don Corleone with his
adopted and eldest sons. What does Don Corleone do? He refuses help. Force opposes force—the obstacle has appeared. We are not receiving information as we would in a novel, calmly reading a passage of exposition for action still to happen: we are in the middle of an active reality, witnessing an immediate confrontation. Characters inform us as they inform each other of their need to get their way with each other. Thus, Bonasera, his first action—asking for help—failing, moves to a new action: he offers to buy help. But this, we discover with Bonasera, is an insult. Payment has to be in a future service. To get what he wants, Bonasera must pay a price, compromise his personal integrity, his freedom to do as he wishes, by agreeing to render Don Corleone a future service. When he asks the Godfather to be his friend, he makes this compromise. He is changed from what he was at the start.

  We asked you to think where the BEGINNING, MIDDLE, and END were in this scene. Take a piece of paper and write those out for yourself before you read any farther. Do they correspond to what follows?

  BEGINNING. Bonasera tells his story and asks for help. There is something he wants badly, but he is refused. The protagonist’s problem appears.

  MIDDLE. Don Corleone, Bonasera’s obstacle, his antagonist, forces Bonasera to make a number of efforts to overcome his opposition. Bonasera tries to buy him and fails, offending him. He has reached a point of crisis.

  Remember, the crisis in a scene is the point at which the protagonist’s efforts to solve his problem seem to be doomed.

  END. Bonasera gets his way, but only by agreeing to Don Corleone’s price, which draws him into the world of the Mafia. This is the climax, that point at which the protagonist’s struggle succeeds or fails.

  Inevitably, someone will want to know, “Why can’t I write something nice about nice people?” You can. But in drama even nice people have problems they have to struggle to resolve, or you don’t have a drama. Or, “Why can’t I write something just for laughter?” You can. But the problems for characters in a comedy or farce seem mountainous to them, always just beyond their frantic efforts to solve. That is the fun of it! Without the collision of wills or collision of your protagonist’s will with an opposing circumstance, there is simply nothing to laugh at, cry over, or think about. So remember: the problem must always mean a great deal to your protagonist, as much as you can make it mean! No half measures! Suppose when Don Corleone had reproached Bonasera for never inviting him to his house, Bonasera had sagged, muttered something, and left in embarrassment? His daughter couldn’t have meant much to him if that had been how the scene had gone. He couldn’t have wanted anything very much, if that had been how he had left! And he would have left with empty hands.

  Obviously, a story can be contained in a single scene, and each significant scene does tell a story in the dramatic form indicated. Within a longer piece, each scene continues to have the same struggle within it, except that the climax is not yet final. Each scene is part of a sequence of scenes delineating the protagonist’s cumulative and failing effort to reach a resolution satisfactory to him, until the crisis is reached, when all seems lost. In a full-length screenplay, the crisis usually appears at the end of the second act: the remainder of the screenplay is the climactic effort of the protagonist to resolve his problem.

  We repeat for emphasis that whether a scene is a story in itself or part of a larger story, each scene

  is the setting for a dramatic action

  is a particular sequence of dramatic action: the introduction of the problem for the protagonist, his efforts to solve it failing (crisis), and a final effort to solve his problem (climax).

  Two Scenes—Good, Better

  This is a good place to review what we’ve learned. We can sum it up in three points:

  1. A dramatic story is an action.

  2. A dramatic action is a conflict generated by your protagonist who needs to solve a problem of great importance to him, but who meets an obstacle in the form of another person—an antagonist, like Don Corleone in the scene you just read—or in the form of circumstances—as in the case of the accident we imagined for Sally.

  3. A scene is the setting for your action, both a place and a particular sequence of dramatic action. That sequence is the establishment of the protagonist with his problem (the BEGINNING); his attempt to solve that problem reaching a point of failure, the crisis, because of the antagonist or obstacle (the MIDDLE); and his final attempt to resolve his problem, the climax (the END).

  Let’s explore these three points further by looking at two scenes of increasing quality from contemporary films. We’ll look first at an amusing romantic scene from the popular comedy Tootsie and end with the climactic scene from the first act of the more searching, award-winning Kramer vs. Kramer.

  After you read each scene take out a piece of paper and jot down who you think the protagonist and antagonist (person or circumstance) are, what you think the obstacle is to the protagonist, and finally how you see the structure in terms of BEGINNING, MIDDLE, and END. Then compare your notes to those following each scene.

  We will talk at greater length in Part 2 about the emotional realism of drama. But here, after each scene ask yourself: How did I feel about the emotional reality of what I read and imagined in my mind’s eye? Did I question how these characters behaved? Or was I completely convinced?

  For example, think of the love scene between Adrian and Rocky in the popular film Rocky. You may well have seen this box office smash that started the ‘Rocky’ phenomenon. Do you believe a badly inhibited woman of 30 would let herself be cornered in a battered boxer’s messy room? Or that the boxer, removing her glasses, would discover she is pretty? Why is Rocky the first to see that, after all, Adrian is pretty? Or do you believe that, as he embraces her, she would give herself to him freely after having remained a spinster all her life? It’s possible, of course: we know Adrian and Rocky are attracted to each other, and we want them to succeed individually and together, but these details do strain credulity and diminish our belief in these characters’ emotional reality in this love scene.

  Remember that your protagonist is the character who carries the action, from whose point of view we experience the entire story. He can be as likeable as Les in what follows, or as villainous as Salieri in Amadeus or Richard III in Shakespeare’s play.

  A “Love” Scene from Tootsie

  You may remember Tootsie was an unusual comedy based on the premise of an out-of-work actor impersonating a woman and then enjoying great success—as an actress. It is both a comedy and an attempt to try and say something about the nature of sexual roles in our society. Michael is the actor who impersonates a woman, Dorothy, and as Dorothy he scores great success as an actress playing the role of Tootsie in a popular soap opera. But his life is complicated when, still impersonating a woman, he falls in love with Julie. Since this is a comedy and uses some very old comedic situations as well as its more unconventional elements, Julie, naturally, doesn’t love Michael. Michael is Dorothy to her. Who falls in love with Michael while he is impersonating Dorothy? Les, Julie’s father! Not only does he fall in love with Michael-as-Dorothy, he plans to propose to her! The scene we examine occurs just after Julie has warned Dorothy about her father’s intentions and asked her to let her father, Les, down gently.

  Now here’s the scene.

  FADE IN:

  INT. RAINBOW GRILL (EST) NIGHT

  DOROTHY and LES at a table, Les in his best. The BAND plays a romantic number.

  LES

  (to WAITER)

  Two coffees. How about some brandy, Dorothy?

  DOROTHY

  Just coffee for me. Well, perhaps a little brandy might be wise.

  WAITER

  Yes, Madam.

  LES

  Food wasn’t bad, was it?

  DOROTHY

  No. Very fresh. Not overcooked.

  LES

  Fish wasn’t frozen.

  (a pause)

  Potatoes were crisp.

  (beat)

 
; Would you like to dance?

  DOROTHY

  Dance?

  He stands, takes her hand. His look makes it impossible for her to say no.

  THE DANCE FLOOR

  Les and Dorothy begin to dance, Dorothy finding it difficult to follow. A MIDDLE-AGED COUPLE recognizes her. [Remember she is Tootsie!] As they dance by

  MIDDLE-AGED MAN

  We love you. You’re wonderful.

  Dorothy smiles, is suddenly confused as Les executes a dazzling bit of footwork.

  LES

  My wife and I took a course.

  They continue, Dorothy having a tough time.

  LES

  I’m sorry. I forget you’re on your feet all day.

  THEIR TABLE

  Les holds her chair for her, then sits. Brandy is waiting. Dorothy starts to drink hers.

  LES

  I was sure happy you could come out tonight. I know you usually have a lot of lines to learn.

  DOROTHY

  (after a breath)

  Les, I think there’s something I better say.

  LES

  There’s something I want to say, too.

  Wouldn’t it be funny if we both wanted to say the same thing?

  DOROTHY

  I don’t think what I have to say is what you have to say.

  LES

  Mine’s pretty simple. I’m not that good with words, anyway.

  (a beat)

  I’m not sure how to start . . . You ever buy a real good pair of boots?

  DOROTHY

  Boots?

  LES

  Work boots. If you get the right pair, and after you work them in real good, they feel just as much a part of you as your own feet, if you know what I mean. It’s a lot like people, boots . . .

  You know, how comfortable they make you feel, how they hold up to

  (MORE)

  LES (CONT’D)

  wear and tear over the years.

  (stops, embarrassed)

  I don’t know why I’m going on about shoes and feet.