Kym-n-Mark are excited to share with you the thoughts of our good friend, Alan Wartes, independent filmmaker and videographer.
But Alan is also a poet and stage performer -- fearless and successful in so many media.
(Be sure to check out the video clips interspersed through his wonderful insights below not only into writing for film but also making that film yourself!)
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After mulling many different ideas to share with the
virtual writer’s community being lovingly assembled here by Mark and Kym, I
finally realized that I’m not ready to quit the conversation they began in last
week’s blog: “How (Not) to Write a Screenplay.” So at the risk of using my turn
at the wheel to steer the site (again) toward screenwriting—and offending those
who see it as the novel’s red-headed step-sister—I’d like to share a few
insights earned in one of the best (and most terrifying) writing schools known to (this) man: producing and directing my own scripts.
The timing couldn’t be better, really, since I am
presently neck deep in production on a new short film called “The Edge,” so the
issues are not merely theoretical in any way. As we used to say when I was in
the army, there are two kinds of solution to any problem: book solutions and
field solutions. In other words, what you think you know in the classroom isn’t
worth diddly squat until it has survived a day in the real world where people
are shooting at you and saying mean things with a lot of feeling. Or, in the
case of filmmaking, where Murphy’s Law was actually written and beta tested
before its release to the general public. Imagine planning three weddings every
day for a week—for $50 each—and you’ll start to understand the joys of indie
filmmaking.
Fast Food Romeo—2006.
High school science geek Joe Morris makes the most of his strengths and talks to the girl of his dreams on his own terms—by hacking her drive-up window headset at the fast food joint where she works.
Ah, but it is joyful, and none of that other stuff
matters much—when you’ve got a story to tell that is burning holes in your
eyelids. But, of course, that describes a lot of people. The trick is knowing
how to tell it well. Notice I did not
say that the trick is knowing how to sell
it well. It is way too easy to forget that we are storytellers, after all. Storytellers do far more than string clever
words together like cheap beads for sale on blankets at the flea market. We
create worlds and populate them with people who look to us like Greek gods to
make their lives mean something, for
pity’s sake! “Why have you forsaken us in Act Two? Is there any hope that will
come back for us before The End?” It is an awesome responsibility.
Okay, three lessons I’ve learned about writing in
general by daring to write screenplays and then make the movies myself, saying
to Hollywood, “Be gone! I don’t believe in you!” Never fear. If you have no
intention of ever doing any such thing, these tidbits might help you along with
whatever form of writing is burning holes in your eyelids.
1. Write what
you can actually shoot. I had to chuckle at the advice Mark and Kym
received from their film industry friend, something like: “Are you crazy? You
set your story on a Texas beach during a hurricane with five hundred oil rigs
burning offshore?” Could be one hell of a yarn, but…only Bruce Willis could
sell it. I am paying (literally) for this mistake myself next weekend when we
will shoot the “bar scene” in “The Edge” which calls for 20 extras on top of
the rest of the cast. Sounded great until I remembered that I have to feed them
all lunch.
But here’s the point: When you sit down to write, remember
that life is rarely lived on an epic scale. Once in a while you happen to be
sitting on the beach when a tsunami strikes, but mostly we live in small,
ordinary moments that don’t look like much, but which reveal who we are, what
we want, and what obstacles we are willing to overcome to get it. In other
words, the locations and situations close to home are where the stories are.
I Once Ate a
Pepper—2012
A super-fun animated short about the perils of eating a pepper “right off the vine.” Be sure to watch to the very end.
2. Screenplays
aren’t finished art—movies are. When is the last time you saw a screenplay
on the NYT bestseller list? On the front table at Barnes and Noble? For that
matter, when’s the last time you actually read one? Anyone? Now, when’s the
last time you saw a great movie?
Hot tip: The words in a screenplay are there for one
reason—as a blueprint to help filmmakers paint with light and bring the story
to life. That’s why formatting and convention matter so much; mostly to help
the writer get out of the way and let the imagery and dialogue speak for
itself. Hot tip corollary: All words, in any written medium, are there to
create magic images in the mind of the reader. Too much cleverness, too much of
the sound of your own voice is a bad thing.
3. Write
dialogue that real actors actually want to say. Poets must read their words
out loud. Ditto novelists once in a while at book signings. But as a
screenwriter making my own movies, I must endure the “read through”—a real come-to-Jesus moment when other people
embody my characters and say out loud the words I gave them—in a medium that
will last a long time. Nothing will reveal the trite, the wooden, the
unmotivated, the petty, the crass, the just plain bad any faster. Here’s how to
avoid that: Write with love, deep, deep love for your characters—even the
bastards who, after all, are only doing what they think they must to survive.
Treat them with dignity, honor, integrity, and above all, compassion—like they
are children rescued from a shipwreck. Do that and they will never embarrass
you.
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Thanks, Alan, for sharing your creative spirit with us! Also be sure to check out Alan's music:
Avalon Road
A Denver acoustic band playing Alan’s original music. Members: Alan Wartes, Issa Forrest, Eric Moon, Lia Davis, and Monika Vischer.
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