Book Review: Notes to Screenwriters

Angela Bourassa recently reviewed our book, Notes to Screenwriters on her site, LA Screenwriter.

Here's an excerpt:

"Writers, producers, and consultants Vicki Peterson and Barbara Nicolosi have a new addition for your shelf of screenwriting books. The book is called Notes to Screenwriters, and we think that it deserves a spot next to Save the Cat and Story.
With so many books on screenwriting, it must be a daunting task for writers to come up with something new to add to the writer’s curriculum. What Vicki and Barbara have done with this book is not try to replace or out-do the classics of screenwriting instruction. Instead, they’ve gathered together handy advice and wisdom from their years on both sides of the table.
Vicki and Barbara build each chapter around sets of related notes that screenwriters commonly receive on scripts – notes like “Not enough conflict” or “The characters weren’t active.” They then provide writers with practical advice for improving their writing and their approach to screenwriting as a business."

Thanks, Angela! Check out the rest of the article here:  http://la-screenwriter.com/2015/06/04/why-you-should-read-notes-to-screenwriters/

Why Story Matters

For the last several years, there’s been much talk in Hollywood about the extinction of feature screenwriting. The spec market is dead. Digital platforms are on the rise. It’s widely known that most writing jobs are in television, not features. Even the ABC/Disney Fellowship Program, designed to discover new talent, has put their feature fellowship on hold because they can’t figure out how to yield the same kind of immediate career results that happen in their TV fellowship. Furthermore, nice, character-driven, middle of the road movies just don’t get made anymore. The market has become polarized, from the gigantic, spectacle-driven, sure-bet tent poles, to the teeny, one location, no risk, micro-budgets. In production offices, Directors of Development (if their job still exists) have shifted from shaping and crafting writers and their stories to locating a script that can be shot, as-is, with  certain tax incentives in mind. Hollywood seems to care less about a good story well told, and much more about what can be monetized RIGHT NOW.  

This kind of news can make a feature writer despair, and cause some to think that investing years into a craft that might never pay off just isn’t worth it. For most, it’s not.

However-

No matter what current trend is selling in Hollywood, there will always be longing in the souls of men and women for great stories well told.  The craft of storytelling is immortal, and feature-length stories have been the medium for thousands of years.  There’s harmony found in a story whose length is designed to be long enough to explore a satisfying beginning, middle, and end, and short enough to take in at one sitting, without interruption.

Anyone who attempts to tell a story in any length, for any size screen, must learn feature screenwriting as a foundation to the craft. Even if they never go into the feature market, screenwriters need to study Aristotle’s Poetics and watch classic movies and understand three act structure in the same way that medical students need to study Latin.  Feature narratives are the root language of all screen storytelling. Without an understanding of features, screen stories in other formats will fall, uh, short.

Because of the rise of digital platforms, everyone seems to be watching this recent “change” in format closely and trying to figure out ways to be successful in delivering story content (i.e. reach more eyeballs) in a new way.  The flaw in this kind of thinking is that it presumes that stories change. Story does not change.

Instead of chasing current trends, we students of screenwriting need more of the classics. Everything that is great about a one minute short gone viral can be evidenced in any one of Aesop’s fables.

We need masters of feature writing to continue to teach the craft in the same way that we need masters of sculpture and poetry and charcoal drawings to teach theirs. Feature screenwriting is high art.  Creating delightful characters who make strong choices that further a complex, yet clear plot is high art. Building fantastic arenas which are integral to the story and delivering stunning visual imagery is high art. Doing this in a narrative format with a complex and satisfying beginning, middle and end is high art. Accomplishing this in a two-hour narrative format for the screen is the foundation of accomplishing this in any other medium. 

The business of Hollywood will always be about making money off of stuff people watch. The business of storytellers will always be about communicating truths that speak to souls. There will always be a tension between the two, but it is important to remember that Hollywood needs storytellers more than storytellers need Hollywood. Still, it is better to work together. Trends will shift.  Formats will change. Story will remain constant. 

If you agree that story matters, check out our book, Notes to Screenwriters.

The Screenwriter's Prequel: Do You Have What It Takes?

The Screenwriter's Prequel deadline is coming up on June 1st, and applications are rolling in. You can learn more about the program here.

Are you trying to determine if the Prequel is the right fit for you? Want to know more about what it takes to be a professional screenwriter? Here are some questions to consider:

Do you feel compelled to write? Notice I didn't ask, Do you love to write? Many writers I know don't love it on a daily basis, including me. As soon as I get settled into my writing time on some days, I'd rather play another round of Candy Crush, right after a good nap. Well, most days. Okay fine, every day. However, there is a small, sometimes not so quiet, voice that urges me to get to it. Writing is on my to-do list every day, and I feel a sense of accomplishment when I check it off the list. If you're already writing, great. You get a sticker. If you love writing all the time, great. You get two stickers and a sideways glance from me wondering if you're a Stepford robot. If you've "always wanted to write" but never been able to get yourself together to actually do it, sorry. We can't help you. We don't carry any magical pixie dust that will automatically force you to sit down at your computer. If you're somewhere in between and just need a boost, a reason, or even just permission to do make writing a greater priority in your life, we can come alongside and offer plenty of motivation.

Do you love having written? So do I. That's why I force myself to do it when I'd rather nap. The reward of having written is what keeps me going when the writing itself feels more like punishment. If you can relate, you are a writer.

Are you willing to learn something new? I went to a holistic doctor recently and she mentioned that one of the most important questions she asks her patients is, "Are you willing to be well?" She says there are many people who are sick simply because some part of them is not willing to participate in the healing process. I think it is the same with screenwriters and coaches. Writers who are open to learning will break through the mental blocks that keep them from growing and achieving success. If you believe you can never be a master of this craft, only a student, then you will go far.

Do you have something to say? Writers are prophetic voices for the masses. An emerging writer may not be able to articulate exactly what it is she wants to say, but she recognizes that it is important, and it has the potential to help others. The bulk of our work mentoring writers is to help them identify and strengthen their voice. However, we can't help you if you think stories shouldn't have something to say.

Do you want to write professionally for the screen? Notice we haven't mentioned any cliches that people typically associate with a Hollywood-based screenwriting program, including how old you need to be, what genres are selling, or how hungry you are to win, win, win. We'd rather you not focus on those things because they tend to become distractions from doing the greater work. That said, the Screenwriter's Prequel faculty are chock-full of wisdom about the need to write content that also succeeds in the marketplace. If you want to make grandiose art that pleases no audience but yourself, knock yourself out- by yourself. If you want to create something of quality intended for a specific audience that has the real possibility of being seen, we can guide you through those steps, and help you lay out a specific plan to get it in front of the right people.

Catharsis Movie Spot

Notes to Screenwriters Book Signing May 28th

The Last Bookstore is one of the coolest bookstores you'll ever see. Join us!

Interview by Lisa England

We met recently with Lisa England, an accomplished writer and former mentee, who interviewed us about Notes to Screenwriters for her blog.

Read the interview here: 

Thanks for the interview, Lisa! You inspire us, too.

Film Courage 'Notes to Screenwriters' Full Video Interview

A couple months ago we sat down with the producers of Film Courage to talk about our book, Notes to Screenwriters. The whole 70 minute interview is here:

Thanks, Film Courage! We enjoyed talking with you.

The One Thing You Need To Be A Screenwriter

There is really only one thing that you need to be a successful screenwriter. Drive.

I don't mean the cheesy, Hollywood-stereotyped, cocaine-laced, Alpha-person, short-fused, high burnout, megalomaniac version of Drive. That's the mask of ego that can only be worn so long before a person self-destructs. The Drive you need is a slow, steady burn. Drive is what keeps you writing long after the fickle Muse leaves you for someone else. Drive is the still, quiet voice in your soul that whispers, in spite of all circumstances, "Keep going."

Lots of people start screenwriting projects, but very few finish them. Many screenwriters loathe and fear the inevitable rejection that comes with the territory of being a writer, but in fact, it's not the rejection of others that stall out most screenwriting careers. Most screenwriters don't even make it far enough to send work out to be rejected. The greatest threat to a screenwriter's career is abandoning one's own project. Many writers simply give up. Many writers lack Drive.

Drive means that if you have an opportunity to learn or grow in your craft, you do it. You don't wait. You don't second guess it. You don't hope that some profound ability will manifest via osmosis or magic without training and practice. If you have Drive, you know that you must constantly invest in your education.

Drive means you write. You write when you don't feel like writing. You write when you know it's not working. You write when you don't have time to write.

Drive means you are in motion. You take steps (like writing) every day to further your goals. As the metaphor goes, you may not see far down the path, but so long as you put one foot in front of the other, you will go somewhere.

Drive means that you take charge of your own life. You don't blame circumstances for getting in the way of your goals. Drive means you work with the challenges you have. You find a way to make it work in addition to your other life responsibilities.

All writers have productive days and not-so productive days. Even the best succumb to what Steven Pressfield describes in his book, The War of Art, "The Resistance." The difference for writers who have Drive is they know that one unproductive day is just one lost battle. Drive means they are still winning the war. Drive is an accumulation of grace. So keep going. And when you're tired, keep going. And when you doubt you can go any farther, keep going. And when you feel like quitting, keep going. Just keep going.

Kindness and Corsets: The Spectacle of Cinderella

My seven year old daughter loves princesses, and I was inevitably one of the contributors to Mr. Mouse's $70 million box office haul last weekend. There's a lot to like about this adaptation. It's a solid story, supported by gorgeous production design, and absolutely stunning costumes. Oh dear Lord, the costumes. Amazing. They are currently on display at the El Capitan Theater in Hollywood, and they are even more impressive in person up close. It's worth the second mortgage to see this show at the El Capitan, by the way. Especially if you take a seven year old in a princess dress.

The spectacle in Cinderella is, well, spectacular. It is truly a feast for the eyes. However, the reason the spectacle works so well is because it has a solid story to hang on.

It has been said that every story is either The Odyssey or Cinderella, so it's not surprising that the audience has certain expectations for the plot. We know what happens. The way it happens in this adaptation is so satisfying, you might find yourself sporting a perma-grin while sitting in a dark theater staring at the screen. Disney's animated Cinderella is more famous than the original fairy tale it was based on by Charles Perrault. It is a tall order to offer a new, fresh take on the world's most well-known fairy tale and also improve upon it. But they did. For starters, they made Cinderella a more active character. Instead of passively letting her step family take advantage of her, Cinderella makes an active choice and compelling reason to stay in spite of her challenges. She is not a victim. She takes ownership of her values, kindness and courage, which cause her to make decisions that are difficult and heroic. Kindness is Cinderella's superpower. Because of her values, she brings nobility and honor to her suffering.

Granted, the message of the story, "Have courage and be kind," is hammered into the audience and repeated about seventeen times too many, but I almost never find this sort of thing to be the fault of the writer. It was probably some studio note to make it so obvious that everyone over the age of five wants to yell at the screen, "Come on! I get it already!" Even so, it's forgivable, because it works. Guess what message my daughter walked away with. Kindness wins. As a parent and as a storyteller, this message is a welcome and refreshing change from most kid stories, which usually amount to something cliche and banal, like, "Just be yourself," or, "Just try." I don't need my kid to go to the movies to learn to just be herself. I want my kid to aspire to be someone slightly better than herself. I want her to choose to stick to her values in the face of adversity.

In addition to being integral to the theme, kindness is also the spectacle of the story. In a plot that offers almost no surprises, kindness is the lynchpin which causes the reactions, moves the story forward, and creates the moments which become so visually powerful. In our book, Notes to Screenwriters, we describe spectacle as being the servant to all the other elements of story: plot, character, theme, dialogue and tone. The reason Cinderella works is because it's not just about pretty dresses. It works because it offers a complete story.

Practice Safe Storytelling

The truth is, the tragic note that should be given about many scripts that are on the floors, desks, chairs and trunks in Hollywood is, “This script should never have been written.” Scripts get written that shouldn’t, in the same way unplanned pregnancies happen. People who may or may not be writers have a one night stand with a cheap idea and then, a few weeks or months later, push out a draft. What should have happened is a hard conversation between the person and their story idea before they jumped into Final Draft together. “Are you really the one for me?” “Are you going to be able to support a whole screenplay?” “Is there any theme underneath your spectacle?” “Is it really you I love, or is it because you remind me of somebody else?” “Is this going to be something we both get sick of in a few months?” The only good news is, you never really get naked with a bad story, but you are rarely better for having let yourself get seduced by a sexy pitch.

Once the script exists, very few people have the obnoxiousness and intestinal fortitude to say to the hapless and half-had creator, “You made a big mistake in starting this.” I wish I had the courage to say it more often, because, if you don’t say it, then you end up spending a tremendous amount of time doing what I think of as, “Tweaking Crap Around the Edges.” It always reminds me of when I was a little girl and how I hated eating liver. My cousin told me to cut it up in really really small pieces and get it down that way. But I remember trying the experiment and concluding at about age six, that you could cut up and cover up crap, but it’s still gonna taste like crap.

Not long ago, I gave notes on a script that is, for reasons known only to the movie gods – whom I’m convinced more and more are dark, dark spirits – going ahead at a production company. Basically the company knows the project is in trouble but they have already spent too much money on it to abandon it so they are going to plunge ahead hoping against all probability that a wonder of a movie will come out of a script of chopped liver.

Still, it’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow some good, and so I thought I could share some of the reasons why the project is failing for folks out there struggling with their own difficult screenplay relationships. Here are notes to help you not get used.

A) First Note: This Script Was Not Written By a Writer 
Writing is a talent. Talent means you are naturally, weirdly good at something that other people can not do. You know you have writing talent if your writing elicits an emotional response from people. You know you have talent if you know what you write is good. You KNOW it.

And then, even natural born writers need some degree of training. You can no more sit down and spew out a screenplay without having studied the craft, than a brain surgeon could just crack open a skull and start scalping. Training gives a writer appreciation for the complexity of good writing. As Thomas Mann so wonderfully noted, “A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

This is the kind of note that gets written on scripts that are not written by people with writing talent or training (examples are all from real scripts):

– The language in this script is clunky and the word choices awkward. (i.e. “Mary straddled a phone on her shoulder.”
– The scenes are over-written (ie. John stands nervously looking at his face in the bathroom mirror over the sink near the shower two feet from the window.”).
– There doesn’t seem to be any theme or subtext underlying this piece. The writer doesn’t seem to have any burning thing she wants to say. She has done a job, but never taken ownership.
– There is no charm here. No fun. No magic. Nothing that feels fresh or creative.
– There is nothing to learn here. The writer has nothing to teach or share.

B) Second Note: Not a Story but Lots of Chit-Chat in Different Places
Aristotle says that human beings are driven to story by two powerful instincts: for imitation and for beauty. It’s the imitation thing we are interested in here. The kind of imitation that we are driven to stare at in stories is what Aristotle calls, “Men in action.” Movement. Choices. Change. And real change that can’t just be reversed or taken back. We say “Show don’t tell,” when we are working with writers but, it’s amazing how so few people can apply this when it comes to their own work. So, I’m not going to just tell you, show don’t tell. Here’s me showing you the notes you get when a story is all talky no chantey.

– Time and time again, the writers fail dramatically in that they have characters say who they are, what they want, what the problems are and what the point of everything is, instead of showing it through visual, high stakes choices.
– Because so much of this comes down to conversations, most of the story feels unmotivated. It lacks the compelling quality that comes from “seeing is believing.”
– No one is building anything in this script. No one is climbing a mountain or slaying a dragon or doing anything enviable or, frankly, anything filmic.
– Apparently, the writer wants us to believe that these characters resolved their huge problems offscreen and without losing any limbs or jobs or jobs or even just a smashed brandy glass.

C) Third Note: Not Cross-Genre, Really Just a Mess
When I talk about genre with my students, it always turns into a discussion of their First Amendment freedoms. Many wannabe writers feel constrained by the idea of genre as if it is something outside being imposed on them. But genre isn’t something that you fit your story into. Genre is the essence that flows out of your stuff. It’s the soul in your project that pushes it to fulfillment the way Aristotle says the soul of a zebra pushes it to have black and white stripes and so that the zebra never wakes up one day with the mane of a lion. Signs you are unclear in the soul of your story are notes like this:

– What kind of movie is this? Is it a family film? Is it a comedy? A romantic comedy? A drama? A drama with romantic comedy elements? A murder mystery? This script is trying to be all things to all but isn’t attaining to any of them.
– The story never really gets us to tears, and it never really gets us to laughs. It never gets us to fear and suspense, and it never gets us to inspiration.
– This script feels like two different movies. It started feeling like “The Insider,” but then devolved into “Hang Over.”
– The writer seems to be going for black comedy here. But the thing about comedy is, it’s funny. Even when it’s black.
– This movie has a twelve year old protagonist, but then there are scenes full of R-rated language. Who is the audience for this piece?

Getting the Most Out of Script Consultations

  The bulk of the business we do at Catharsis, besides writing and being generally fabulous, is script consulting. Or rather, writer consulting. We groom writers to become the people they need to be to execute their masterpieces and enjoy a meaningful career. We've seen our share of starry-eyed hopefuls, rough and tumble go-getters, anxious self-doubters, over-confident newbies, and more. We wrote our book, Notes to Screenwriters, from the many years of giving notes to our students and clients, and also from receiving notes as writers ourselves.

One of the most disheartening things we see in our line of work is that newbie writers will squander hundreds of dollars on script consultations because they didn't properly prepare for them. It's for this reason we do preliminary evaluations on scripts to deem if they are ready for extensive feedback. We aren't interested in wasting time (yours or ours) if a script is not ready.

Here are the top ten ways to make the most of your next script consultation:

1. Learn the craft. Before dropping several hundred bucks on a script consultation, make sure you've first invested in some training, instruction, and materials. It's surprising how many writers don't do this. If you wanted to be a surgeon, would you want someone to evaluate your first surgical procedure before you've attended med school? We don't think so. At the very, very least, read some books on screenwriting. (Like ours.) There's a ton of basic how-to classes out there. Take some seminars. (Ours are great.) Watch great movies. Read the top screenplays. If you're just starting out, consider signing up for a mentorship with us instead of a consultation. We'll tailor it toward specific areas in which you need to grow.

2. Proofread your script before you send it to a consultant. Please. Pretty please. If you know you're bad at proofreading, ask a friend to help you.

3. Make sure you're sending your very best work. Never send a script to anyone- not even your writers group- that isn't a good representation of what you can do. Write to the very best of your ability and knowledge. Most emerging writers see a gap between their abilities and where they want their writing to be. Take note of this gap, and ask your consultant questions based on where you perceive your own deficit.

4. When you get written feedback, read for clarity. Us poor writers are creatures of ego. When we get feedback, what we really want to know- from the depths of our beings- is whether our work is truly and deeply loved by another. In most cases, especially with drafts in progress, that answer is no. So get over it. Be objective. Be professional. Strive to understand the feedback your consultant gives you, whether you agree with it or not.

5. Ask thoughtful, specific questions. When you meet with your consultant, come prepared with a list of several specific questions you have about your work. The more specific you are, the more satisfying answers you'll get. Move away from asking generalizations, like, "So did you like it? Do you think it can sell?" Instead, ask questions like, "On page 24, I wanted to create a visual metaphor for the hero's descent into hell, so that's why everything is orange. Did you pick up on that?"

6. Resist taking offense or defending your work. See #4. Script consultations are often the first experiences new writers have with getting professional quality feedback, and it can be intimidating for some. Trust us, we're the kind ones. If you stick with it, there will be plenty of uncaring, snarky, and inconsiderate note-givers in your future. It's best to grow some thicker skin now. If you find yourself getting defensive, take a step back and remember that consultants are deeply invested in helping you grow.

7. Say, "Thank you." These magic words open more doors in Hollywood than any other, and your professionalism as a screenwriter starts here.

8. Don't expect a script consultant to act as an agent. The role of a consultant is to give you the notes you need to make your script really great. Don't ask them to slip your script to Spielberg. Just don't.

9. Expect a lot more work ahead.  Many scripts we consult on are several drafts away from professional quality work, mainly because the writer didn't consider several of the points above. Professional quality writing takes years of commitment and practice.

10. The more you learn, you'll learn that you have more to learn. The wisest among us make this a lifelong habit. The most prolific writers are constantly growing in their craft, taking seminars, reading, and attending retreats, like this one.  

We should also say, as former development executives, that many of these same rules apply to sending your script to a production company. DON'T DO IT unless you're given the green light from professionals (like us) who agree that it's ready.
Learn more about Catharsis script consulting here!

Interview: Peterson and Nicolosi on 'Movies Matter'

Why Pixar's 'Inside Out' Premise is Brilliant

Pixar released the extended trailer yesterday for its upcoming feature, Inside Out:

The premise is that characters who each represent an emotion live in the control center (get it?) of a human's brain and tries to "help". Of course, we can assume these emotions get in each others' way and muddle things up as much as possible.

The premise might at first seem like a risky move for Pixar. For one thing, it's unlike anything we've seen before. For risk-averse Hollywood, cranking out another Cars sequel might seem like a better financial move. Pixar, known and respected for creating delightfully original content, has been playing it safe lately, so this is a welcome and hopeful nod to their strong storytelling roots.

In spite of theoretical risk, Inside Out, from a story perspective, is a brilliant idea. Why? The premise taps into the very reason people go see movies: to feel something.

In our chapter on story in Notes to Screenwriters, we discuss why a story has to matter. A story is something to learn. The primary lesson that people want to learn in story has to do with a better way to live. A story is also something to dream. The societal point for story is for audience members to watch the trials and tribulations of a made up character and then import those lessons into their real lives. And finally, a story is something to feel.

"Stories are meant to provide a variety of human experience. Especially emotional experience. Our psyches are programmed for a wide spectrum of emotional sensations, ranging from sidesplitting laughter to gut-wrenching sobs, from the thrill of wonder to goose bumps and shrieks of terror. When we feel intense emotions, they can act as a cathartic release or purge."

Also in Notes to Screenwriters, we break down the various emotions and their corresponding genres. People go to dramas to experience pathos and sympathy. they go to comedies to experience surprise and the absurd. They see horror films to experience the limits of their own courage.

It's safe to assume that Inside Out will deliver all of these emotions and more. Perhaps this is the new meta-genre. Pixar is the best at establishing ultimate mass appeal, and this film suggests that whatever you want to feel at the movies, Inside Out will have it.

Of course, this premise is so "high concept" it could backfire by trying to accomplish too much and thereby please no one, but if anyone can pull something off like this, it's Pixar. We won't know for another three months if they deliver on the premise, but we hope they do! 

Four Great Reasons to Love Kimmy Schmidt

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, now streaming on Netflix, is a new comedy by Tina Fey and Robert Carlock in which a woman escapes a doomsday cult and starts life over again in New York City. In the pilot, Kimmy (Ellie Kemper) delightful, effervescent, and determined to not let fifteen years of horrific abuse get her down, takes charge of her new circumstances to find a job and an apartment with world's most contagious smile on her face.

Not everyone can say they know what it's like to live in a post-apocalyptic bunker for fifteen years, so what makes Kimmy so darn likeable and relatable? 

In our book, Notes to Screenwriters, we break down the four qualities of a relatable character as described by Aristotle in Poetics. Here are just a few things Kimmy does to model these qualities:

1. Goodness
Kimmy's goodness in the face of adversity is what makes her so refreshing and delightful. She is not just basically good, she is almost wholly good. She made the most of a horrific situation and she is determined not to be labeled a victim. And just when her brightness and positivity might be brushed off as innocence or denial, she springs into action to defend herself and others. Her flaws are sympathetic, too. Her occasional post-traumatic flashbacks set her off in surprising ways. She blurts out details from the bunker that she otherwise would bury.

2. Propriety
In the pilot, Kimmy catches a boy stealing candy (twice) and chases after him. This action inadvertently leads her to her new employer, Jacqueline Vorhees (Jane Krakowski) whom she quasi-mistakes as a woman trapped in an oppressive relationship needing help. Kimmy is a hero who stands up for justice. But she is also quirky and upbeat while doing so. Aristotle says that a relatable character should be quirky and strange, but not grotesque or scary. Juxtaposed with her captor, the bearded megalomaniac by day and party DJ by night, she is by far a more sympathetic character.

3. Consistency
Kimmy makes consistent choices which support her motivation to defend the weak and free the oppressed. As positive as she is, she is no shrinking violet. She stands up to bullies, including Vorhee's rotten step-daughter Xanthippe (Dylan Gelula) who try to tear her down. She is steadfast in her quest to improve her life, make a living, get an education, and protect the innocent.

4. Truth 
Kimmy and her fellow "mole women" were fed horrible lies about the apocalypse for fifteen years. They were told that they were dumb and bad. They were forced to worship a lunatic. It is precisely because of this back story that Kimmy stands for truth. Interestingly enough, the four mole women react differently to their experience after they are freed. One cashes in on her "victim" status and accepts plenty of pity perks, including a boyfriend who doesn't love her. Another starts a "Mole" business- that is, the Mexican sauce, mole (get it?). The third continues to dress in plain clothes and sympathize with her oppressor. Kimmy is the only one who clings to what is good, noble, and true.

Film Courage Interview: Everything Screenwriters Need to Know About Script Notes

Complex Structure: A Storyteller's Enigma

There is a lot to like in one of this year's Best Picture nominees The Imitation Game.  As a beautifully recreated period piece with a quirky, brilliant protagonist and high stakes internal and extrernal stories, it's the kind of movie that will always do well with movie fans and critics alike.  So, why didn't it really catch fire? Why did it play, in the end, as basically enjoyable, but not something we would ever need to see again?  Possibly because of the risks the storytellers took in structure.  Risks that proved too much for the story. 

The structure in The Imitation Game was very problematic. Weaving in and out of three stories spread over forty years is always going to emotionally distance the audience from the characters. The story of Turing falling in love as a young boy offered the main pathos of the movie and was the filmmakers' attempt to make us forgive Turing for his ill-treatment of others as an adult.  But it didn't add much if anything to the main story of breaking Enigma, nor really even of explaining his social disorders. Just because somebody has their heart broken when they are twelve does't excuse that person treating all other people badly forever. What was gained from the boyhood story could have gotten done in one short scene, we didn't need to spend twenty minutes of the movie going back there. 

Flashing ahead to the investigation of Turing by the police also added little to the main story.  The whole episiode was contrived to get to the historical fact that Turing was prosecuted for indecency.  It would have had more power to the audience it if had been left as a title card at the very end.  What was lost in audience engagement by the periodic flashing forward to watch the police figure out something the audience already knew, ended up as an insurmountable obstacle to the storytelling.

Every time The Imitation Game jolted back into the distant past or ahead into the future the audience was lifted out of the movie and distanced from the illusion of the story as being their story.  Flashbacks and flash forwards are very, very tricky. They belong on the shelf of tools on the cinematic workshop which has the sign, "Just because we can doesn't mean we should."  

Stories That Matter

Thirty-three. According to Movie Insider that's how many movies are opening just this month. It seems pretty safe to say there is no shortage of movies being made. There might however, be a shortage of good movies being made.

I suppose it all comes down to what you believe the purpose of storytelling is. Is it to offer an escape from the daily grind? To connect your audience by a common experience? To cause your audience to re-examine their own lives and better understand how to live?

I have no doubt that this month's thirty-three films could be sprinkled throughout every one of those categories. But I'd like to present the possibility that, just maybe, a truly good story accomplishes all of those goals. That's where Catharsis comes in.

Catharsis founders, Barbara Nicolosi and Vicki Peterson help writers tell stories that are not only good enough in the eyes of the industry to get made, but also good enough for an audience to truly enjoy seeing it and be better off after having done so.

As a writer myself, I've found their instruction to be instrumental in my own projects. But don't just take my word for it! This is the first video interview in a series Barbara and Vicki did with Film Courage. Give it a watch to hear what they have to say. You won't be disappointed. Then get out there and write good stories. We're here for you!