Review: Dan O'Bannon's Guide to Screenplay Structure

One of the oldest criticisms of screenwriting books is that they are not written by working practitoners (the old chesnut of 'those who cannot do, teach'), thus utterly deligitmsing them. Naturally, I think this stance is more than a little hyperbolic and irrational, but if you have that view on the subject, this one's for you.

 
Dan O'Bannon is the late, great mind behind Alien, Total Recall and Return of the Living Dead. With the aid of friend and collaborator Matt R. Lohr, he delivers a screenwriting book that places emphasis on conflict, as well as creating an exciting three act method called 'Dynamic Structure', derived in part from his background in science. Across linked chapters he breaks down his method, its influences from science like hedonic adaptation, how it applies to several famous films like Psycho and Dumb & Dumber and how you can implement it in your work.

O'Bannon's book is solid enough for your standard discussions on structure, but where it really excels is as a workbook: whereas a lot of tomes will state a bunch of arbitrary rules, O'Bannon regularly encourages you to engage in analysis and ask questions. Whether more literally in the exercises that close each chapter, or more in discussion of what makes effective drama and the place of 'rules' within that. O'Bannon is by no means an adherent: he believes in the uniqueness of your voice and says rules can be bent if they don't aid you. 

His D.S. is less about hitting specific page numbers and more how to consistently excite and wrongfoot an audience. However, he recognises there are fundamentals that stories must adhere to in order to function; chief is conflict, whereby O'Bannon puts focus on giving 'both sides' motivation. Instead of just 'a hero comes up against obstacles', he asks you to also think about the story from the antagonist/obstacle's POV. This, therefore, increases the tension and heightens the stakes as your characters, good or bad, have real, well defined motives that clash and produce richer drama.

As a bonus, he even examines and contasts his D.S. with other paradigms and works, such as McKee, Field and Aristotle. This ends up not being as much of an ego-stroke as one would assume: he acknowledges their historical significance as well as concedes their good points. However, he's not afraid to take them to task: whether it be the arcane thoughts of Aristotle, the strange wording of Lajos Ergi in defining dramatic concepts, or the archness of Field's famous paradigmn. He's not even afraid to acknowledge the limits of his own structure, when he analyzes Lawrence of Arabia. If you want a nice digest of the history of storytelling and dramatic theory, O'Bannon's got you covered.

Granted, the heavy emphasis on structural analysis and conflict does leave the book feeling a little skewed: pacing, characterization, dialogue and theme are all secondary and merely glanced at. O'Bannon doesn't necesserily regard them as inferior, but his emphasis is on effective structure and conflict. These other elements he primarily views as arising from these (character is action and whatnot), rather than dwelling on them as seperate elements. Also, O'Bannon concedes he can offer little meaningful business advice, so those looking for a more well rounded package should look elsewhere. 

However, what it sets out to do it does so with style and relish, making for an engrossing read. If you love genre movies and fiction, O'Bannon's work or haven't cracked the structure code yet, this book is ideal for you.

Patience: The Hardest Skill a Writer must learn

More than agents, producers, deadlines or writer's block, THIS is the one, the almighty thorn-in-side. No matter if you're a screenwriter, playwright, novelist, comics writer or wordsmith of any field, one thing unites us: we all hate silence. The long, seemingly eternal gap; the uncaring pause that awaits us every time we send something out into the world with the faintest of faint hopes it'll click.

Yep, that sums the feeling up...

A crushing malaise can often set in, regardless if the reason why it's being sent off is positive or even lucrative: sending a thoroughly polished manuscript or script to an interested party creates a rush of endorphins and joy, followed by a strange cycle of worry, self-doubt and even slight anger at not 'being taken seriously enough' for a faster response. This can occur, even in submissions that aren't life or death: even just sending something for a friend or trusted second pair of eyes can feel like a slog.

So, what can you do about it, to try and mitigate this crushing despair?

• TURNAROUND: Most places will take anywhere from 90 days to three months to read something. Usually, details are provided on the company's website, but if you're submitting to an individual, try and ask (politely and without making it all about you) how long they normally take. That way, you just write it up on calendar and not think about it. Then and only then is when you-
• FOLLOW UP: I cannot stress this enough, but DO NOT spam check up emails every week. Not only will this annoy your reader, it's also bad for said anxiety. If you can't or don't get an answer to the above question, month and a half is a good check in time.
• SIZE: The bigger the company, the longer it'll take. Even efficient systems can, unfortunately, still not get through everything. Not even close to 50% on good days.

How else can you take your mind off the submission?

• WRITE: Don't be that idiot waiting and waiting and choosing to freeze themselves in amber until a person says the magic word. The fastest way to stop worrying about one project is to work on another. Plus, it keeps you off the dark path of the 'magic ticket' that I've railled against before.
• READ: May sound a little obvious and cheap, but just getting into other stories and subject matter can also help keep your mind off. Non-fiction can prove especially handy, as you can use this waiting time to either do research or simply find new inspiration for a project.
• LIFE: Friends, family, pets, whatever your current job is. All of these are a quick and easy way to let the worry slide off your brain and into the recesses. Don't live the stereotype of the isolated maverick who solely devotes themselves to art. Go out, get some air, maybe even a nice hamburger!

And when all that's said and done, remember this most of all:

• THERE IS NO 'BIG BREAK': A worthwhile career in any field is the summation of loads of small steps, not one big gamble. You will get lots of nos and contradictory responses on the same script, and it can be maddening. I had a kids pilot get three yes's and three no's, and it was actually the bigger names that took more of a shine. Remember the deadly perils of the 'magic ticket' I mentioned above? The sooner you take the advice to just write, enjoy it and build a varied portfolio, the faster you will not only produce better work, but also the less you will worry about 'do they like it? Do they like it?'

Review: Adventures in the Screen Trade

On November 16th, screenwriting lost a real legend in the form of William Goldman. Master of both original writing and adaptation, Goldman's resume is filled with multiple titles that most writers would be lucky to have just one of in their entire careers: Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid, All The President's Men, Magic, The Great Waldo Pepper, Stepford Wives, A Bridge Too Far, Marathon Man, Misery, Princess Bride, Chaplin and Maverick, as well as assisting on A Few Good Men, Good Will Hunting and Twins.

Playwright, novelist, festival judge, teacher, critic, essayist and having a front-row seat in the New Hollywood of the 1970s, there's a lot to unpack with Goldman. For the aspiring screenwriter, or creator period, or even just movie geek, where do you start? And can you learn anything immediately applicable to craft? Well, part biography, part writing manual, Adventures in the Screen Trade answers with tales of his life, career and views on cinema.

Spanning the late 60s and 70s, the book is split in three: the first is Goldman's views of the then-contemporary industry and is where 'nobody knows anything' comes from. It's more an interesting artifact than wholly applicable to today, though if you follow any Hollywood rag... it may not have have changed all that much in some ways.

The second part is about his films, spanning Charly to A Bridge Too Far, detailing the ups and downs of each project, as well as some unmade ones like his version of The Right Stuff (later adapted by Philip Kaufman) and the musical remake of Grand Hotel. Goldman's skills are in full-force in these emminently readable accounts: it manages a fine balance of being informative and insightful about the ins and outs of filmmaking and storytelling without reading as gossipy, self-congratulatory or even spiteful, despites the missteps and bad luck. Goldman's tone is rather casual but not without some moments of deprecation of his own work and early naivete, and a good sprinkling of wit.

In addition, Goldman spends a good chunk of each chapter talking about his process, discussing how each screenplay represented a different challenge for him. But more than simply memories, Screen Trade comes with a little story about adapting a short story into a screenplay in its third section, Da Vinci. The short story is pretty rudimentary: a story about a little barber's son who becomes entranced with his father's newest hire, a veritable Michelangelo of hair. If you wanted a mini-masterclass in how to adapt a work to film, as well as some good writing primers, this has got you covered.

Honestly, do you need me to say more? Just go out and add this one to your collection. And while you're at it, also check out the sequel, Which Lie Did I Tell? More Adventures in the Screen Trade. It carries through into the 80s and 90s, and not many memoirs can go from crippling depression to stories about gay lions with such grace.

How can a Screenwriter get their first credit?

Since 2018 has proven to be somewhat a watershed year for me in terms of career advancement (new short, stage play, TV credit), I figured now is as good a time as any to discuss this, and boy ain't this the big one...

It's possibly the most common oxymoron you'll find in screenwriting: Can't get an agent without a credit, can't get a credit without an agent. Whatever is a new screenwriter to do, hoping to catch that much vaunted fish?

Well here's the thing: you don't need anyone's permission, agent or otherwise, to make something. Having some independently produced material can rather be handy: It shows you write well enough to have people want to make it, as well as have initiative. Sometimes, it can even serve as a demo of a bigger project (think Whiplash, which started life as a teaser short film, then got expanded into a feature), or be a way to build your own brand with some other successes.

So, what can you do?

• Short films: This is the classic staple, and is pretty self-explanatory. If you lack contacts for a crew, don't fret: Facebook has tons of filmmaking groups, filled with a never-ending supply of producers and directors looking for short scripts. It's as easy as typing in film or screenwriter and BOOM: a goldmine. 

THAT SAID, as time passes, I find the first project below far more advisable for writers creating short-form material than a short film: not only because there's likely to be more content, but shorts tend to be viewed primarily as director showcases. A lot more emphasis gets placed on performances, style and ambiance than on great dramatic or comic writing.

• Webseries: In the internet age, these are everywhere and cover every genre. Some can even attract some decent name talent, such as cult-favourite Cops and Monsters (which counts among its staff TV scribes like Debbie Moon (Wolfblood) and Roland Moore (Land Girls)), or recent hit Shiro's Story from Rap Man (now at the centre of a bidding war from networks). These are especially good if you have an eye for TV and want to show you can write a returnable/long running project. It affords you a freedom of plot and character that short films simply don't allow. Facebook and Screenwriting Staffing also put these staffing gigs up regularly, so keep an eye open for that too.
• Stage Plays: Loads of small theatres and festivals regularly offer opportunities and competitions for material, some even doing full plays that they fully fund. Most of these tend to be sketches, ten minute plays or one acts (totalling about 40 mins). Agents and other talent scouts do attend these (though usually, they have to be invited), so it's a good way to get spotted and network. BBC Writersroom and London Playwrights' Blog are great sources for finding out who has an opening coming up, and usually three or four show up a month.
• Radio and podcasts: The audience is much smaller than film or TV, but the advantadge: lower costs, allowing more risks to be taken. Yes, you can just pitch straight to a producer on radio, and maybe get your work on BBC Radio 4, without any sort of 'unsolicited' hullabaloo (Commissiong guidelines are available on the site to learn more.) However, the same need for patience and decorum as with TV still applies. Welcome to Night Vale and Homecoming, meanwhile, are proof of how much narrative podcasts have become a force of their own, and not something to overlook. If you have a bunch of mics lying around, some type of theatre or acting associates and some decent editing software, you could get your own decently-produced audio drama up and running.

There's also the question of screenplay contests. Even just placing highly in one of the heavyweights like the Nichols can be a useful sales hook. Just like everything I've discussed on this blog that involves money, Be A Discerning Shopper: Check the prizes, judges, fee prices, how long they've been running and if they've had any major success stories. Thescriptlab.com did a great piece on the best ones that I have recommended previously. Alternately, why not try one of the yearly TV Fellowships from the States?

Okay, but say you've done that: what about actually talking with companies? Two words: IMDB Pro. Quick and easy way to find emails, and substantially better than doing the dumb thing of sending to the info@ address of a company. Type a short email, giving a brief account of you, your work and pitching a sample (DO NOT ATTACH THE SCRIPT, you will only come off as desperate) for them to read. Alternately, just ask to have a five minute meeting with someone in development about career advice: You'd be surprised how generous people can be with their time.

Just do not be:

• Clingy 
• Impatient
• Annoying
• Demanding

Got it?

Review: Screenwriting is Rewriting: The Art and Craft of Professional Revision

Given I've made my feelings know about screenwriting gurus and the whole field of writing teaching before, I decided why not jump on the bandwagon's bandwagon and review some books on the subject in a new, ongoing segment? And what better one to start with then one of my personal favourites: Screenwriting is Rewriting: The Art and Craft of Professional Revision by Jack Epps Jr.

The man behind Top Gun, Dick Tracy and Turner & Hooch attacks the rather volumunous world of screenwriting theory with a different perspective and emphasis: instead of long sermons about Aristotle, three act structure and 'negation of negations', Epps focuses more on the actual process of rewriting your screenplay and getting it into the best shape possible. Across linked chapters, he breaks down and discusses ways to identify problems, create game plans and give oneself targets during rewrites to strengthen your craft and content.

Epps' methods may appear, on the surface, to be slower and more lethargic than what we normally associate with rewrites (recommending individual passes over one big attack, as well as lots of planning and detailing), but there is a clear process at work. In each chapter, Epps very plainly breaks down the how, why and what (going through topics like dialogue, characterisation, pacing, scenes) in a manner not disimilar to a good teacher (he is the chair of the School of Cinematic Arts at USC). He even readdresses and recontextualises concepts and processes throughout the book, showing how every piece of a screenplay must be carefully considered and nothing left to luck or chance as they have a knock-on effect on one another.

One of my favourite parts of the whole book is his suggestion of compiling all your notes on a script, and breaking them down by categories (again, character, pace, dialogue and many more subcategories, depending on what detail you like going in) in a type of plan. From there, depending on the project, you can prioritize what the biggest problems are and leave minor stuff till later, drafts or passes. I have found this incredibly useful for my own rewrites on projects and it helped clear so much of the clutter I had had trouble with before. Even his stressing of handwritten notes and twice reading your script, while it may seem a no-duh, only hit home once you try them and realize how much more liberating and clarifying they are. 

 
This more matter of fact approach is the book's greatest strength, feeling completely unpretentious and just focused on giving the writer clear tools on how to make a script better. As a bonus, he even provides examples of his techniques in action, both on his own projects as well as from some of his former students, just to hit home that this is not snake oil. Those with more of a taste for drama/literary theory, however, will not get much from the book's bluntness and mind on application rather than analysis or philosophy. This is a work tome, not a quick or casual read. 

However, there are already plenty of titles that fill that cavity in, and it's good to have something more immediately useful to a practising screenwriter in a market often criticised for not providing such tools. Easily one of the more refreshing titles to have hit the market in some time, Epps provides a book less interested in esoterics and more in practical use to the writer. Highly recommended.

The Value of a Writing Rota for Screenwriters

In the past, I've discussed the dangers of relying on just one script, that one 'magic ticket', to make a career happen. It not only stifles your creativity by not broadening and challenging you, but you can become desenstized to your material's problems with constant, and often tedious, rewrites.

In my own journey, I've found implementing a 'writing rota', a system for when and what I write, has greatly enabled me to not only write what I really want, but to always push myself with new challenges. You might find some inspiration, for example, in working on a horror and then a comedy versus two horrors consecutively. Maybe you can't quite crack that senior drama until you've had a stab at a heist film and mastered suspense? But let's back up: what exactly makes up a 'writing rota'?

Well it's two parts: first, it's about the number of projects. Giving yourself targets can help focus you up for your writing year, but not going overboard in how much you do will ensure they are actually achieveable. I opt for 4-5 spec projects a year (with a 2:3 ratio fo film to TV), allowing me to work on stuff I really want to tackle, as well as allow time for rewrites, additional research and polishes so they are, in theory, ready the following year to be presented. I also think this more humble target allows margin for error and, as they say in law, 'Acts of God'/sudden accidents, so you're not prone to panicking.

The second part is the projects themselves: a good writing rota depends on having strongly contrasting projects. After all, if a production company is not paying you, you have total freedom to tackle whatever you want. This also helps avoid a risk of samyness or burnout by just working on one thing, or rather, one type of story or genre. Yes, I'm aware of Lee Jessup's advice in specializing in a particular genre, and while I certainly see her point, she's also refering primarily to the US market. Britain, being smaller, has less to offer in certain genres, so a jack-of-all-trades is more useful in building a career here.

Allow me to use an A-D scenario (with each representing about a month, give or take) to illustrate a rota, A could be a dark feature thriller, then B a children's sitcom pilot, than C a rewrite of A or a period drama, and then D could be an adult sitcom or cheesy fun B-actioner. Indeed, a very crude impression of this rota could be described as dark, light, dark, light, but genre variety matters much more than tone. In my own recent work, for instance, my 1hr crime thriller pilot gained quite a bit, especially on the subject of character, after I had worked on a 1hr period-fantasy pilot set in Spain.

The rota also means you can factor in specific deadlines, if there are opportunities, schemes and contests you want to enter. Just make sure you do your homework and allow plenty of time to properly polish your script before the opportunity comes around: don't wait till the last month and go nuts.  If you can, try and hold back till the following year so as to maximise your script's chances of being more ready. Again, nobody's paying you so why do it wrong?

The elements above also gives the rota a third trick up its sleeve: allowing for room to slot in commissioned projects. Whether it's your first proper TV or film credit, a short film or web series you've been hired to work on or maybe your first stage play, you can now give it the attention it needs and not panic because it ruins 'the flow'. Simply push a draft or rewrite back and now, you've got a free gap because you didn't overegg on specs. If you're really lucky and you get multiple commissions, no problem: just recalibrate the rota and prioritise what you most urgently need to finish. In this scenario, the commissions take the place of the other projects, again avoiding the risk of the 'magic ticket' mentality.

Great Screenwriting Books that aren't manuals

Both this blog and just about anything that mentions screenwriting has done plenty of pieces on the writing guides and their various paradigms and beat sheets. Some are good, some are bad and some are just there.

But what about careers and the practical side? Theory is all very well and good, but how can you actually make some kind of living at it? And for that matter, is there screenwriting-related literature that isn't another how-to book? Maybe something like a biography that talks about the ups and downs of a writer's life?

Well first, the nitty-gritty:

• The UK Scriptwriter's Survival Guide: Veteran film and TV scribes Tim Clague and Danny Stack (Eastenders, Doctors, Thunderbirds Are Go) give a practical, no B.S. guide on what you can do to help yourself get a foothold in the industry. It only came out in 2014, but I honestly believe this should be compulsory reading for all new screenwriters, as it will open your eyes to many possibilities, as well as give you useful tips and tricks to navigate the business.
• The Creative Essentials series of books cover different types of film and television writing, as well as other roles/career opportunities such as script editing, reading and pitching. Contributing authors include Karol Griffith (now set to work on the Chinese version of Humans), Lucy Sher and Charles Harris, among others.

And now, for something more fun, screenwriter autobiographies:

• Adventures in the Screen Trade and Which Lie Did I Tell? by William Goldman. An easy recommedation for anyone, screenwriter or not. The legendary master scribe of Misery, All the President's Men and Princess Bride, among others, regails us with tales of his life, career and views on cinemas. In addition, they talk about his process, with Screen Trade coming with a little story about adaptating a short story into a screenplay.
• Writing Movies for Fun and Profit: How We Made a Billion Dollars at The Box Office and You Can Too! by Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon. A ridiculously funny and addictive read that will leave you chuckling yet also be rather pensive and even a little dispirited by the Hollywood machine. Love or hate their films, this duo have been at the epicentre of some of the biggest comedies of the last decade (Herbie, Night at the Museum), so they know their stuff.
• The Devil's Guide to Hollywood: The Screenwriter as God! by Joe Eszterhas. The infamous firebrand who made a fortune off of Showgirls and a slew of other 80s and 90s films, Eszterhas is an angry old man who has no qualms telling you what he thinks of the craft and the industry. Decidely very, very, very different to Screen Trade.
• Adventures in La-La Land by Tim John. Want to hear the odyssesy of another Brit who made the jump across the pond? John provides just that, recounting his odysessey in LA and some of the peculiar sights he witnesses.
• On Directing Film by David Mamet. Despite the name, it's really Mamet offering a broad cross-section of thoughts and stories working in the industry at multiple levels.  If you enjoyed his other dramaturgical works, this should be very easy to slip into.
• Tales from the Script: 50 Hollywood Screenwriters Share Their Stories by Peter Hanson and Paul Robert Herman. Exactly what it says on the packet: how some of the biggest and best did it. Also related: Tales from Development Hell: The Greatest Movies Never Made? Development is the phase between ptiching and production, and sadly, is where you'll be spending the brunt of your career as a writer. With that, alas, comes stories of projects that get stuck for years and years, or stuff that almost happened, then didn't.
• On Writing A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King. Less a screenwriting book and more just a good book to read on writing period, King's book is half memoir, half tips and tricks on his writing methods. It's candid, darkly funny, touching and yet sobering as King interweaves his writing methods with a look back on the strange turns of his career and how it impacted his life, or vice-versa.

Why One Pagers are handy for screenwriters

One of the hardest things about writing is pitching. Let's be frank: most of us are pretty nervous about it, and would rather eat burning coals than have to sell someone our story. How can you tell someone your compelling saga of emotional heartache or exciting adventure within a minute or two?

And what about when you're starting a project? Naturally, give yourself the freedom to experiment: Just plugging in for the formula won't yield interesting results, usually. However, with that always comes the peril of losing focus and forgetting why you ever bothered in the first place. Wouldn't having some kind of mission statement help keep you on track with what your intent is? What is your story about, at its core, when you strip away all the bells and whistles of snappy action or whimsical dialogue?

Enter one pagers: a succinct and tidy summation of the project and what you want. For me, they've proven to be rather handy and helped keep me on the course to story nirvana. No, you don't have to obey them as gospel or refuse to change them: consider them more as roadmaps on the creative journey.

So, how do you actually write one? Well, there's three steps:

1. Start with your logline, the super basic distilation of your film. Who is it about, what the threat/problem is, and what will happen if they do or don't get it. IMPORTANT: Loglines are not taglines. ''In space, no one can hear you scream'' ain't a logline. Neither is ''why so serious''. Need help? Try this video.
2. Then, write three or four paragraphs that cover the major beats of your film or pilot. Broad, arch and not usually invoking dialogue, it's your cliffnotes but is also, in a sense, why you want to write this specific story with these specific parts. Also, like in a script, use strong words that evoke clear images in the reader's eye.
3. This is capped off by a paragraph devoted to explaning why it matters, what's special about it and why it could work. This is where your awareness of the market place, what it has and what it doesn't, will come into play. You have been reading the trades, haven't you? Haven't you?

From this, you can then graft and expand into a treatment or even a step outline. Again, gospel is not what you're writing, merely a friendly reminder. What's more, this can help narrow down your brainstorms and early research, as well assist email pitching, as it's a much easier document to hand over than a whole script. It can, also, very succintly tell someone how good you are, and if the script is right for them. I should know: I've used it to not half-bad effect before and gotten some reads for one of my kids show pilots.

Got my first TV Credit - Pablo

So, BIG BIG news everyone: just got my first legit, signed-on-the-dotted-line television credit. I'm writing an episode of the popular CBeebies animated series Pablo (also broadcasts on RTEjr and CBC).

 
The series, produced by Paper Owl Films and CAKE, is about the misadventures of the titular six-year-old, who has autism. The series focuses on how Pablo interacts with the world and how his atypical mind can make seemingly mundane things like clothes, baths and toys feel like great conundrums.

It's a great honour to be working on Pablo, having been diagonsed on the spectrum as a kid. I wish I had something like this when I was growing up (and I doubt I'm alone in that, given we're on a second series now). Naturally, this (hopefully) won't be the last, as I've continued to pitch ideas, some further along in development then others.

Now, not to get overly schmaltzy, but I have to extend a big thanks to several people: first, to my wonderful script editor Andrew Brenner, who has been very helpful and supportive; to Helen Stroud over at Collingwood&Co., who introduced us and was my 'Yes'; to Dominic Carver and my tutors at Met Film School who helped me create and hone the spec that lead to this.

When further arises, you'll be the first to know.,.

Abel Diaz - Complete Credits

Just a little record I keep of what I've done, on top of my IMDB page (and will still keep even after that, as its reliability is notoriously unwieldy at the best of times). Stuff both on-screen and off, for your perusal.

AGENT: Andy Townsend, Long Road Talent. (Contact here.)

Film/TV Credits:

PRODUCED/PLACEMENTS/AWARDS

• 2022: ITV Original Voices 2021 (Opportunity for BAME/Disabled writers to train on ITV Continuing Drama Emmerdale).
• 2021: Doctors (TV, BBC One). Daytime drama. Completed Writer's scheme.
  
• 2020 - BBC New Voices Scheme (Development opportunity with CBBC/Cbeebies)
  

• 2020: Pablo (TV, 2x11mins, CBeebies/Paper Owl Films). Pre-school, animation. A 6 yr. old boy with autism explores the world in his own unique way. 

- Participated in writer's room for Series 3 (TBA). 
- #2.38/83 Oink Cluck Neigh: Pablo doesn’t want to leave the city farm, so he decides to become an animal and live there! 
- #2.36/81 Headache Volcano: Pablo has a funny feeling in his head when he plays on a hot afternoon, and it won't go away.

• Finalist - ITV Original Voices Scheme 2019 (Opportunity for BAME/Disabled writers to train and write for ITV Continuing Drama Coronation Street).

• 2018: Wrapped Up (short film, 15 mins.) Dark comedy. A lovestruck finds herself in deep when she kills her boyfriend, who was sleeping with her brother.

       - Winner - Best Student Film: Kiev International Film Festival 2019.

• 2017: Creative Access: Bobette’s Story (Promo, 2 mins.) A recruitment video for Creative Access (a service that enables B.A.M.E youth into internships in media industries), centring on one of their success stories, theatre manager Bobette.
• 2015: Silver (short film, 10 mins. Dir. Zay Basile. Script editor, credited under ‘Special Thanks’). A tale of love between two living statues in the heart of London.
• 2015: Spiderfly (short film, 5 mins.) Romantic thriller. Two lawyers, following the closure of a murder case, embark on a ‘killer’ affair of their own.

DEVELOPMENT

• Never The Bride (TV, 6x60mins, Free@LastTV). Horror-fantasy-drama, based on the books by Paul Magrs (Doctor Who). The life-after-life of Brenda, the Bride of Frankenstein, moonlighting as a supernatural-busting gumshoe in the coastal town of Whitby.

Film (Crew):

• 2020: The Reason I Jump (Feature film. Dir. Jerry Rothwell. Transcription assistant). A documentary about autism, based on the best selling book by Naoki Higashida.
• 2019: Love Sarah (Feature film. Dir. Eliza Schroeder. Floor Runner). A young woman who enlists the help of her mother’s best friend and her eccentric estranged grandmother to fulfill her late mother’s dream of opening a bakery in Notting Hill. Stars Celia Imrie (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel) and Rupert Penry-Jones (The Strain).
• 2014: Shattered Reflection (short film, 10 mins. Dir. Katarina Leskoova. Producer). A young woman battles with bulimia, embarrassed to tell her friends.

Non Film/TV work:

• 2023: I Am, You Are: Let's Talk About Disability, Individuality and Empowerment (disability consultant, non-fiction book. Ladybird/Penguin)
  
• Pablo The Official Guide (contributing writer, non-fiction book. Paper Owl Films/Penguin) - TBA
  
• Pablo The Stage Musical (co-writer of book, Selladoor Worldwide/Paper Owl Films) - Southbank Centre, TBA.
• 2016: Iron Joe (published short story for Doctor Who charity anthology Time Shadows). The Sixth Doctor and Peri travel aboard the newly inaugurated Transcontinental Railroad, only to come face to face with the ultimate terror of the West: a bandit made of metal known only as ‘Iron Joe’.

Articles/Other Writings:

• 2021, Bang2Write - 18 Experts Share Their Submissions Pet Peeves
  
• 2019, Bang2Write - 22 Industry Pros Share Their Advice on What They Don't Want
  
• 2019, Bang2Write - What 22 Industry Pros DO Want From Your Writing
  

 

Reference Books - The Writer's Secret Weapon

For a lot of writers, it's a pain: ''I don't want to do homework, I just want to write!''

But, as discussed last article, the old addage of 'write what you know' can only help to a point. But where do you start research: any subject can be broad and look rather daunting from the outside. How do you begin to tackle proper police procedure or modern medical practice or the Napoleonic Wars?

Internet, right? Well, not really: while the options are nigh-limitless, it also means you could get easily overwhelmed by all the search results. Within that comes sites of varying credibility, the always debatable Wikipedia and even the differences between countries - police in the States are quite unlike our local bobbies, for example.

What is needed is a guide, a lense that will focus where to start and, from there, expand. Reference books are just such a tool: tomes devoted to specific subjects that will tend to cover a little bit of everything, giving you plenty of places to then dig further on Google or Bing. It's actually kind of incredible they aren't talked about more often by writers, blogs, courses or just in general discourse.

But what do some of them actually offer?

• The Crime Writer's Guide to Police Practice and Procedure by Michael O'Bryne and The Real CSI : A Foresnics Handbook by Kate Bendelow. These are as good as anything for getting started in writing about crime, providing a nice overview of police hierachy, investigations, crime scenes and the plethora of possible crimes you can use.
• The Writer's Guide to Weapons: A Practical Reference for Using Firearms and Knives in Fiction by Benjamin Sobieck: want to know how guns, knives are other weapons work and are supposed to be like? This military vet had you covered with easy-to-read yet comprehensive detail on all types of weaponry.Plus, he deubunks common myths and exaggerations. such as the uselessless of pumping and cocking guns to be threatening.
• The Writer's Guide to Psychology by Carolyn Kaufman. Too often, insanity is used as a lazy crux by writers to write dull, nonsensical villains who exist just to be bad. Or worse, misappropriating conditions such as schizophernia and giving them nonexistant effects like split personalities. Well, Kaufman's here to combat that with a tome that covers all the major mental illnesses and, more handily, also provide coutner-examples to common misuses of the conditions.
• Oxford Handbooks: this ever-respectable label is most notable for its lengthy series geared towards healthcare, such as Clinical Medicine and Clinical Diagnosis. These are primarily intended for students in these fields but still contain a wealth of useful intel on the how and why of medicine, surgery, hospitals and proper treatment. They're so good they even got namedropped in the BBC miniseries Trust Me.
• Spycraft: Essentials by Bayard and Holmes and Spycraft Secrets: An Espionage A-Z by Nigel West. Fancy knowing about the real life 007s, what their jobs are really like and the strange lingo? Well, these books'll have you covered, though Bayard and Holmes' book is geared more in favour of the States and organizations like the CIA.
• The For Dummies series: hey, they have the title for a reason! Well written for novices and very detailed, these books have endured so long for a good reason and are the most common and easiest to find of any on this list. There exists one for just about every topic out there, no matter how random or ridiculous it could be. After all, they did books on sex, beekeeping and Youtube Channels. What's next? A book about Freemasons?

And that was a super-quick skim. Just typing in 'reference' in Amazon will yield loads more results that cover almost every subject you could want to know. You'll also often find tons of them at charity shops and boot sales for ridiculously low prices, since they're seen as just disposable 'general interest' and thus, not percieved as valuable as novels, comics or even their more respected breathren, encyclopedias.

Also handy - autobiographies: what better way to learn than from someone who's been and done it? You can't take it word for word, you'd need to buy the rights for that, but these two can help guide your explorations and even help inspire a few characters.

The Research Conundrum - How much to do for scripts?

''Write what you know'' is quintessential writing advice: Start from your own life, experiences and memories. From there, you can mine for thrills, chills and laughs. But after a point, it stops yielding. If you want to write a procedural and you're not a police officer or detective... what do you do? Or being a super-spy, or a rocket scientist?

RESEARCH! Good old fashioned studying is there to help you with your woes. In our information age, education and knowledge have never been easier to find and access. Or maybe you're the old fashioned sort who likes going to museums and libraries to study: Also a valid method. You fill up notepads, diaries and Word docs with all sorts of tidbits to help you create a world and characters you can draw from.

But then comes the question: how much is too much? 

When does research becoming delaying and excusing not writing? At what point does your story become a documentary or worse, an essay? On the one hand, William Goldman spent several years researching the Old West to write Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid; by contrast, David Henry Hwang, who wrote the acclaimed Broadway hit M. Butterfly, said he only researched what he absolutely needed and then got on with writing.

This is a question that's been, I imagine, especially on the minds of those who wish to write period pieces and stories with a lot of technical jargon, such as medical dramas, spy thrillers and anything involving scientists. Here's the thing: like most writing questions, it's not so much a matter of right or wrong, as everyone's method is different. Rather, it's a question of priority. What is your story really about, and what does it require?

Consider the following trifecta when pondering this question:

• AUTHENTICITY: How 'real' are you trying to make your story? Are you going for a complete tell-all recreation of events, or just enough to give you a credible platform from which you can tell the story that really interests you? How heightened or fantastical will it be? Indiana Jones and Pirates of the Carribbean are both period pieces with well-realized worlds that are researched, but they're not concerned overtly with historic fidelity or recreation: they just give the story a world to play with.
• ACCESSIBILITY: At what point does this information become irrelevant for the reader/audience and, worse, could create a roadblock? Is there a simpler way to say or name something so a reader doesn't have to break off and go find an encyclopedia (or Wiki it)? Deadwood is a classic example: its unmistakable roostersucking dialogue was anachronistic, but it was done because actual curses of the time would seem silly to a modern ear and thus, lose a lot of their vulgar impact and harm the drama.
• NECESSITY: Following from the first two, relating to setting and clarity of information, do you need this specific thing to make your story work? Does your character arc or theme hinge on this detail? Do you need to mention the extact brand of shoe polish Winston Churchill used in order to write about his nature in office? Do you need to name a specific make of Rolls-Royce, if it somehow serves to inform that character, or just put up the date and say it's a Rolls? Remember, the more details you put in, the bulkier your action lines and, by extension, screenplay will be, which will have a knock-on effect on pacing.

Never forget, your plot and character is your first priority. So long as they're good, the audience will forgive anachronisms and, to be frank, most are not versed in random cultural or historical minutiae. Saving Mr. Banks was so touching and funny you forget P.L. Travers actually hated everything that happened, or Tombstone so exciting you'll not recall that the real Wyatt Earp was not the clean-cut good-natured Kurt Russell.

But okay, that's what to do during the research: what about a starting point, since the internet can be a giant ocean to explore? Next time, I'll tell you about your new best friend(s).

Screenwriting Books for TV - A Handy Guide

Movies are, by and large, the bread and butter of screenwriting guides. Three act structure, twenty two steps, story circles, hero's journey blah blah you get it. Naturally, this brings us to the question: what about TV? Surely, with the television renaissance of the last decade, someone must also be trying to conjure up paradigms and frameworks for writers to use to make it in the new hotbed of long-form storytelling?

Well, kind of: the market of TV gurus is substantially smaller than its feature counterpart. There's no 'definitive' text like Story, Screenplay or Save The Cat, or a unifying figure with a following like Robert McKee or Syd Field. The good news is that there's far less titles to cover, so your wallet will be grateful for the reduced strain.

Let's go over what we have. For ease of reference, I'm splitting them up between British and American titles. The latter still have loads of valid advice and techniques for sure, but the former are important as domestic is where you will, and should, be calling first.

First, the homegrown literature:

• The Insider's Guide to Writing Television by Julian Friedmann and Christopher Walker. A practical guide to British television writing, Friedmann splits the book with Walker, who covers storytelling technique while Friedmann focuses on the nitty gritty of getting out there: agents, meeting, where to go etc. It is decidedly more geared towards the business side over the craft, though Walker still offers some sound advice with examples. Ditto Making it as a Screenwriter by Adrian Mead.
• How To Write For Television by William Smethurst. The late mind who revitalized The Archers and Crossroads gives you the British equivalent of Cook and Douglas (discussed below), covering how to write for TV and radio, the differences between formats and genres, and where to look for your break. Seven editions have come out over the course of over twenty years, so clearly not an uncommon or unpopular work. Also, chalk up Sue Teddern and Nick Warburton's Writing for TV and Radio: A Writers' and Artists' Companion. Warburton was a collaborator of Smethurst's, so it acts as, well, a companion piece.
• Writing for Television Series, Serials and Soaps by Yvonne Grace. The Holby City and Eastenders veteran gives her contribution to the prolific Creative Essentials series of books. As the title implies, Grace goes over your main go-tos in TV, who you'll be working with and how to comport yourself  properly. Indeed, there's quite an emphasis, arguably more than the others, on what you do when you get inside.
• Writing Soap: How to Write Continuing Drama by Chris Thompson. Well, when else am I going to talk about this? Continuing dramas (Easties, Hollyoaks, Coronation Street, Emmerdale, Holby, Casualty, Doctors) are often some of your earliest shots in the business, as well as some of the most consistently popular programming on terrestrial TV. Thompson delivers what he promises: a how-to on writing for one of the toughest gigs on TV, where deadlines are tight and notes many.
  

And now, for the States. Unless you plan to emigrate, you'll be reading these mainly for story advice:

• Writing the Pilot by William Rabkin and Crafty Television Writing: Thinking Inside The Box by Alex Epstein are two popular staples. These cover all you need to know about writing effective pilots, crafting shows with long term story potential, and what seperates a film from a TV character. Epstein's book also covers writing a whole series and staffing, while Rabkin covers that in his second book, Writing The Pilot: Creating the Series.
• Write To TV by Martie Cook. Now in its second edition, the Emerson College academic's tome is the television equivalent of Trottier's Bible: a heaving jack-of-all-trades that covers how to write for different genres, formats and even advice on speccing, staffing and career moves out in the City of Angels.
• Writing the TV Drama Series by Pamela Douglas. One of the older warhorses and probably the closest to a 'Syd Field' of TV, Douglas' work is similar to Cook's, albeit more specifically focused on writing drama.
• Former showrunner Neil Landau throws his hat into the ring with TV Writing on Demand: Creating Great Content in the Digital Era and The TV Showrunner's Roadmap. These are some of the more current books on television, trading very heavily on streaming and how binge watching has changed the way we tell stories in this medium. Roadmap also is jampacked with interviews from the men and women behind the television revolution of the last decade and a bit.
• Sheldon Bull, a compadre of Blake Snyder, and Ellen Sadler both step in to dissect sitcoms with Elephant Bucks: An Insider's Guide to Writing for TV Sitcoms and The TV Writer's Workbook, respectively.  Bull's pachydrym never took off like Snyder's feline, but there's some solid advice on what it takes to write half-hour yukfests with a handy beatsheet of its own. Sadler's, by comparison, is exactly what it says on the spine: a solid step by step walkthrough on building and stress-testing a script.
• Automatic Pilot by Bill Taub. TV veteran and UCLA teacher Taub provides exactly what the title promises.
  

Naturally, this list is by no-means exhaustive. I imagine more will come out in the future and that, some day, there will be that one towering voice. If you're more adventurous in book hunting, then the same criteria from feature guides applies here too:

• Author's credentials: make sure the writer is/was a working screenwriter, producer or development person, and has a decent amount of credits. They may not have worked on Hannibal or snagged a BAFTA, but they've been where you've been, know your struggles and will be living proof of the effectiveness of their methods. People who are solely teachers will have less awareness of the demands of the industry, and may not be as helpful in giving you a realistic outlook or proper tools.
• Gimmicks and cheats: I'm highly suspicious of any 'quack' miracle cures and formulas in 'secret'-style books, though they are, currently, less common in TV. 'Write a Great Pilot in 10 Days', 'Write An Awesome Series in 30 Days Or Less', 'The Secret Hollywood Formula: How you can write a Netflix hit', you'll know it when you see it in shops and on Amazon. It's snake oil: Good craft takes time and being able to write well, not to mention consistently, has to be learnt and earnt. There are no shortcuts.
• Date: If it's focused solely on writing craft, then it's not a huge concern. If it also touts the business side, however, then aim for a book released/revised within the last 5-10 years, as the industry changes faster than ever before. Also, CreateSpace allows lazy authors a means to upload ancient books in sleek new packages, filled with outdated advice and terminology that won't help you, so beware anything that looks cheap or too new.

Writing for the Market - Screenwriters, Please Don't

Trend chasers are nothing new in any artistic business. After all, if something made money, why not just make more of the same? When The Matrix was a hit, cue all the big effects-heavy sci-fi duds in the early 00s that tried to mimic its success. Lethal Weapon? Hello The Last Boyscout and all those buddy cop movies that populated the 90s. Disney hit it big with Little Mermaid? Let's see Warner Bros. humiliate themselves with Quest For Camelot and The King & I in a vain effort to catch up.

At the level of the studio and big pro-cos, this is understandable. It's on the newbie screenwriting level, however, where it's a surefire way to mess up first impressions. Anyone who has worked as a reader (myself very much included) knows exactly what I'm talking about: oh joy, ANOTHER Tarantino wannabe with more 'Melon Farming' than you can shake a Royale with Cheese at; ANOTHER pilot about a secret government agency that fights supernatural phenomena; ANOTHER romantic comedy about a dweeby loser who gets a girl well out of his league, despite being a moron?

It's easy enough to see how this happens: we're all fans and have particular movies we love and would like to make ourselves. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, after all. You love stories about the gangster with the heart of gold who protects his kid? Write your own! With so many being made and smashing the box office or the ratings, and a common bit of advice being to pitch to companies who make that content, surely this is foolproof, right?

And yes, I know of Scott Kirkpatrick, his book and interviews on Film Courage. There's some interesting stuff in there, but it's important to bear in mind what industry level he's aiming at. Namely, TV movies and VOD content in the American market, where low cost, fast turnaround and a flashy title are the norm.

What companies and producers are looking for, with small variations depending on who's in charge, boils down to a marriage of concept and talent. 'Same but different' is something you've heard thrown around and it's true: familiar enough to be marketable to an audience, but also different enough to justify its own existence. What's special about YOUR giant robots script, YOUR girls-night-out-goes-wrong script, YOUR vampire script, and how is it different to the one they just made?

Budget also plays a role: if it's a drama or comedy with few locations and a small cast, or a horror set in the woods, you're better off just raising some cash and shooting it yourself, rather than speccing it. Projects like that were tailor-made for indie and don't really make sense to try and pitch to guys with bigger resources. With crewing resources like Facebook film groups, ShootingPeople or Stage32, as well as Indiegogo and Kickstarter for cash generation, these are now more doable then ever.

Furthermore, what's special about how YOU tell it? How good of a read is your script? Does it move at a good pace? Are the characters all distinct? Does it have strong conflict that a reader can get invested in? Does it have a compelling theme or worldview? In short: why THIS, why NOW? When I went about, pitching my kids superhero pilot, those were questions I had to answer. By doing so, I landed myself a few notable contacts, who saw I was serious, and got talking on some pretty cool stuff.

But if you can't answer that question, don't bother continuing (and for the love of all things, don't just say 'well it's fun'. It might be to you, but A) everyone's idea of fun is relative and B) it doesn't really give a meaningful justification for the time that will be spent on it). Remember, you're asking these people to commit several thousand to several million pounds to make your script a reality: don't you have the courtesy to at least send something good, if not great?

However, it must be stressed copying the market is not the same as knowing it: A smart writer is aware of it and keeps an eye on things: mainly, to know where gaps exist for you to pitch your own ideas. More importantly, it helps with what NOT to pitch if it died in the ratings or at the box office recently. 2011's Outcasts, written by Ben Richards and produced by Kudos, was a noted sci-fi flop that stalled homegrown, non-Doctor Who sci-fi TV for several years until Humans came along in 2015, with the help of AMC, to restart the engine. It was a total dead zone.

But wait Abel, you say, what about TV Specs, like in the States? Those are about as 'for the market' as you can get, as they're potential episodes of a produced TV series.  Well, I already did a whole piece on the value of American-style specs and fellowships before here, so read that if you want to know more.  In short, different country, different system and it's for a very specific reason: selling your writing ability, not getting it made.

How can you stay up with the market? Read the trades: Deadline, Hollywood Reporter, Screen International (for film) and Broadcast (for TV), all releasing regularly with the latest developments, partnerships and deals. Occassionally browsing on IMDB is not good enough: you have to have a steady flow of reliable, well sourced information, if you want to stand any chance in this line.

And if after all that, you're still not convinced that market copying is folly, look up the story of the now defunct Amazon Studios. It was a nice dream, opening the floodgates for writers around the world to pitch to a juggernaut and see their scripts become movies and TV. However, the tidal wave of copycats, knock-offs and remakes-in-all-but-name destroyed that beautiful dream and now, wannbe screenwriters have one less powerful ally. Please don't be that.

''I want to write just one Movie'' - A Dream or A Waste?

Cinema has a unique glimmer in popular culture that no amount of Uwe Bolls and Michael Bays can tarnish. Everyone, at some point, has pondered some variant of 'what if I made a movie?' It could be something straightforward, like a comedy about college dropouts or a teen romance; other times, more elaborate projects like the many Fan Films of recent times. Everybody wants to entertain; humans have done it since we were cavemen, telling of the great hunt.

Why do I bring this up? Well, just the other day on the Screenwriting section of Reddit, this little nugget popped up: https://www.reddit.com/r/Screenwriting/comments/8n44fn/question_i_dont_want_to_be_a_career_writer_i_just/?st=jhtmq9tw&sh=4ae5150d

Now, as you've seen in the responses, this type of question is not met with open arms. Some tried to tackle it with humour, others went into soapboxing. Out came the familiar cries of 'taking up space and 'the poor artists, struggling to make a real career', castigating the unmitigated gall of such a query. I'd be lying if I didn't see where that was coming from: aside from not being very well written, the questioner's emphasis on a spec, animated at that, screamed, 'amateur with no clue about the industry'.

The sad truth is this guy aimed way too high and didn't do his homework: unless you want to end up with a product like Video Brinquedo, a decent animated film'll still run up a bill of a few million. Without a rep or a portfolio, you're asking a company to take an awfully big risk on you for what may be short term benefit: they may make money on the movie, sure, but they're not forming a long term partnership that could expand further and make even more money, assuming you're good. Plus, speaking from hard-earned experience, animated projects are sold way more on premise and concept art than on any type of script.

So okay then, this one's a dreamer, but what about those making live-action stuff? Is it so dim for them? Well again, a company is less inclined to work with someone who's announced a project as a one-off, but there's less strings attached than animated. In this scenario, you're better off making it yourself. Raise the funds and shoot it. You're doing this once, might as well get the whole experience.

But how? Well, let's knock those questions out one by one.

• Where will I get funding? The old-school way is prepping a damn good pitch and going to investors (i.e. non-media companies & old guys with money to spare), or taking that pitch to a site like Indiegogo or Kickstarter, where you can ask the general public to contribute. Another way? Schemes like Film London's Microwave will give you money if you meet certain criteria. Fair warning, it's not much but it can make a difference at the critical hour.
• Where will I get a director? Producer? Crew? Well, have you got a Facebook account? The site has tons of filmmaking groups, filled with a never-ending supply of fellow filmmakers who are happy to help, talk and even read your stuff (if you ask nicely and properly pitch it). It's really as easy as typing in film and BOOM: off you go. Stage32 and ShootingPeople are other staples of finding people to work on your film. Added plus: it's networking without leaving the house.
• Speaking of pluses, what are some good books to help you learn about some of these other roles? Well, Producer to Producer by Maureen A. Ryan is a classic in getting everything set up and running. Robert Rodriguez' Rebel Without A Crew and Lloyd Kaufman's Make Your Own Damn Movie are also handy, in terms of an on-the-ground filmmaking perspective.
• Where will I get actors? I don't know Benedict Cumberbatch! CastingCallPro and StarNow are two staples for finding performers. Also, go check out your local theatres: they often have troupes, companies and regulars, all too happy to beef up their credits.
• How will I advertise? I can't afford billboards! You have the internet at your fingertips. Social media and hashtags, love 'em or hate 'em, have changed the game completely. Platforms like Twitter, Facebook and Instagram offer you a  great, low-cost way to build a following and advertise your production and finished film. 

If you want some further advice, check out this episode from UK Scriptwriters Podcast, where Danny Stack and Tim Clague talk about making their indie kids feature, Who Killed Nelson Nutmeg. Lots of good stuff in there and you should just be listening to the podcast period, even if you don't want to have a career in film. It's really entertaining. Also good to look at: Cinemassacre. You might know James Rolfe for the Angry Video Game Nerd, but he's passionate about filmmaking and reguarly shares his own experiences on Youtube.

So, you now have the how, let's step back to the why. If you really believe in a script, you'll go the long haul with it. That's at the core of every artistic project out there: you have to get it out of your system or you'll go crazy. Cuckoo. Bananas. LOCO!

You have to want it so badly and be willing to put up with all the nonsense, false starts, stupid dramas and sudden reversals that come with making a film. A missed payment there, a forgotten call sheet here, it takes small things to screw up the bigger machine. Those who go for it, in spite of that and even through it, don't merely have a dream: you have to have a passion, a desire, a deep hunger, even if it's for just one time.

Have that drive underpinning what you do and your film will never, ever, be a waste. Yes, even a movie about zombie waterfoul.

Superman Lives & The Last Crusade - Lessons in drafting and redrafting

A lot changes in rewrites. Characters, dialogue, whole chunks of plot and even the order of events can shift or vanish. Long before there's a frame of film shot with which to create deleted scenes, writers must undertake their own 'editing' known as the rewrite. Key component of a rewrite: the draft, a version of your story that has been altered in some way. Usually, a script takes several before it's 'ready' for any type of submission.

If you're reading this, chances are you're a writer of some description or just interested in the craft. If so, you've probably heard all the sermons on the value of rewrites a million times now, but is there something more tangible? Where can you see how scripts change between drafts and chart the evolution of a piece?

Well today, I have two such examples: one from one of the finest adventure films ever made and another from one of the most infamous comic book films not made. I'm talking about 1989's Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, with drafts by Jeffrey Boam and Sir Tom Stoppard, and 1998's Superman Lives, written by Kevin Smith, Wesley Strick and Dan Gilroy respectively.

Regarding Last Crusade, filmmaker Mike Fitzgerald already did a great breakdown of what changed between the Boam and Stoppard version. Here's the whole piece on Last Crusade, which in itself includes a link to the drafts and handy graphs mapping out the story & what went where: https://creativescreenwriting.com/indiana-jones-and-the-last-crusade-learning-from-stoppard/

Done? Told you it was good stuff. Now, onto the aborted, strange and often headscratching saga of the three Superman Lives scripts, planned to star Nicolas Cage as the Last Son of Krypton and be directed by Tim Burton.

Basic gist of the project if you're not familiar: after the success of Burton's Batman in 1989, Warners got to work, trying to bring Superman back. Drawing from the best-selling Death of Superman comic arc, Warners opted for a story that focused on the death and resurection of Superman, following a battle with alien killing machine Doomsday. However, the budget quickly ballooned, Warners got cold feet and canned it. Luckily, the internet has preserved these original drafts for our perusal.

(Links to the Smith & Strick scripts can be found here: http://www.supermanhomepage.com/movies.php while the Gilroy one is here: http://www.simplyscripts.com/s.html)

First up to bat, Askewniverse mastermind and comic's beloved FatMan, Kevin Smith (dated to March 1997. There also exists an earlier version dated to January 97, but this is the more common one):

Plot: With designs on a Kryptonian artifact known as the Eradicator, energy consuming cyber-alien Brainiac comes to Earth in his colossal skull ship. There, he finds the last son of Krypton, at the height of popularity and in a healthy relationship with Lois Lane, who is tied to the Eradicator. To this end, he forms an alliance with tycoon Lex Luthor, and unleashes the monster Doomsday on Metropolis.

Summary: Described by Smith himself as 'fanfiction', this behemoth (page count not officially known, with some pdfs coming in at 119, others at 209) does bear the typical hallmarks of such literature: truckloads of cameos and references chucked in left, right and centre (from Deadshot to a speech-centric cameo by the Dark Knight). The formatting is often off with Smith not using basics like correct aligning for dialogue or using proper scene transitions like 'Continuous' or 'FLASHBACK starts/ends'. Likewise, the plotting and structure is not very strong and often feels tedious, with hefty chunks of exposition where the film tells, rather than shows, its big ideas or themes. Such instances include Superman giving big speeches about the impact of love and life, or the Eradicator learning what it means to be human in the midst of what is supposed to be an intense battle.

Yet despite these glaring issues, there is a 'fun' underpinning the whole affair and some of Smith's strengths still shine through: his skills as a dialogue and character man hold true when it comes to Clark and Lois' relationship. Not only does he make them likeable and endearing, but also makes them feel like they've been in a relationship for some time. I even admire Smith's efforts to be introspective, having a Superman who questions his place in the world and the nature of god vs. man (reminding me a bit of what Batman Forever was originally intended to be).

Plus, despite the silly polar bears guards and alien spider, Smith still crafts fairly engaging setpieces befitting a summer movie, ranging from big slugfests and high speed hover chases, to monster fights that echo Harryhausen, be it with Doomsday or the arachnid Snare Beast. For the man who joked about his Green Hornet being fight-lite and then directing the mediocre action of Cop Out, Smith has a decent eye for spectacle here that blends 60s and 90s rather well.

Closing Thoughts: While overlong and not terribly accessible to the mass audience of a summer movie with its fangasiming, I admire the earnestness of Smith's script and with some tailoring and focus, could've made for an enjoyable Superman film, albeit not one that would've exactly reset trends the way Burton's Batman had back in 1989.

Phew, that was a big'un. Let's hop to script #2, brought to us by Cape Fear's Wesley Strick:

Plot: Same jist as before, though there's more of an emphasis on a distant, uncertain Superman who questions his origins and what his purpose is. Also new this time around is, instead of the Eradicator, Brianiac's desire is for an artificial Kryptonian intelligence called 'K', so he forms an alliance with Luthor and unleashes Doomsday on Metropolis to draw it out.

Summary: While leaner than Smith's 'fanfiction', this 117 page Lives doesn't quite compensate with substance or depth. In the place of bloated speeches and fanservice, we get a lot of tedious moping from Clark Kent as he returns to Smallville following some excavations by Lexcorp into alien tech. Whilst I admire the effort to be introspective, having a Superman who questions his place in our human world and the nature of godlike powers, Strick makes him come across as whiny and a little too naive for someone who is meant to be a seasoned reporter, as well as crimefighter. Plus, the inciting incident that leads to Superman's doubts doesn't feel strong enough and I couldn't help but wonder 'Why now, of all the times Luthor has probably meddled with alien tech or tried to tamper with something or somewhere tied to Supes' past does THIS cause him to have a crisis'?

Recall how Smith's strengths were dialogue and character, especially when it came to Clark and Lois' relationship? That's been junked in favour of dialogue that veers from robotic to goofy, with a Clark-Lois dynamic that reads more like awkward teenagers. It also resets them to 'Lois not knowing Clark is Superman', which feels more like an excuse to pad out the script and never has the weight Strick clearly wants it to by the time Supes dies.

What's more, the 'earnest fun' underpinning Smith's script is almost entirely gone, with a tonal imbalance that goes from really dour and existential with Superman's quest for answers and his reminisce on the past, to almost Batman & Robin levels of camp with the bickering duo of Luthor and Brainiac. He reads less like a cold computer and more like an alien overlord from an SNL spoof sketch. This only gets worse when the two fuse to form the even more bickery 'Lexiac', when he literally becomes a comedy of two halves. Any attempt at making parallels between Brainiac and Superman as the final survivors of Krypton and how they use that legacy is completely undermined by just how kooky the villains are.

If there are positives here, Strick's Hollywood experience does enable him to craft fairly satisfying action, as well as take more advantage of the Harryhausen-monster angle, be it with Doomsday, the Snare Beast or the new fight at a Lexcorp theme park against a water-phobic chomper monster. The film never wants for whizz-bang, going from alien worlds to street riots to the frozen Arctic. Structurally, it does feel more cohesive than the sprawl of Smith and conceptually, Strick has a lot of the right ideas here for a Superman film that makes us re-evaluate how we perceive the Man of Steel and what it would be like to have his responsibilities. It's just a shame it never amounts to much.

Closing Thoughts: I admire the earnestness of Smith's script despite the fanwank, and it felt like it was written with some passion. The same cannot be said of Strick's colder, more mechanical screenplay. In an attempt to make the film tighter and deeper, he has instead produced something imbalanced and tedious.

And we round off our superhero romp with a rewrite, courtesy of Nightcrawler's Dan Gilroy:

Plot: This time around, Brainiac's desire is vengeance upon Superman for how he was treated by his creator, Jor-El. Forming a much more literal merger with Luthor to become 'Lexiac', he unleashes Doomsday once more during a Lexcorp event.

Summary: Shorter still than Strick's, this 112 page version of Lives plays like a greatest hits of the Smith and Strick version, as well as an exercise in cost cutting. Gone are the monsters (save Doomsday) and a lot of the space elements, gone is the Fortress and instead, the introspection of Superman's identity crisis (as well as a slightly odder 'kill-happy' Supes compared to the other two) takes centre-stage. Thankfully, this is sans a lot of the whining of Strick's version, with a more level-headed Superman questioning his origins and where he belongs. The script also spends time on the Clark and Lois' relationship, which is closer to Smith's bouncier portrayal, making them seem like they have a genuine history together (even if Smith-esque bloated speeches do come back near the end just to hammer the significance home).

However, when the film is not just a mere sharpening of old elements, it's the new that leaves me scratching my head: the 'fun' of Smith is near absent, as is a lot of the surreality of the past two scripts (well, save for Luthor in a thong. Because...?). In its place, we get hacking, nukes, a few brawls and a sequence of Superman juggling three falling elevators that, given how intricate it is, would've ended up costing as much as a monster, so why bother making it more generic? Lois also gets a niece who only really matters towards the end and is more there to be cute, as is a pregnancy angle that predates Superman Returns. If there is something about family here, it's not especially well woven and ends up only being relevant when it serves the plot.

Speaking of which, while this draft handles it the best, Lives conceit of adapting Death of Superman as the first film of a new series suffers from, well, not really allowing enough time for Supes' death to mean anything, nor really explore the ramifications of that. In all three, right after the funeral, the token guardian A.I., be it Eradicator or K, comes in and revives him, so it carries no real weight and just doesn't feel tailored for a two hour film AND a franchise starter.

That's not to say Gilroy's script has no other merits, it's the best formatted of the three, and still delivers setpieces that are smaller but still fairly enjoyable in their own right, even if again, this Superman is a little more callous for no reason. Plus, kudos for taking Strick's ideas and expanding on them to try and recalibrate the film's focus on an outsider Superman as opposed to uneven camp and space theatrics.

Closing Thoughts: In conclusion, Gilroy's script is the most professional and tight, but it just feels like a regular 90s action film with some sci-fi elements. With the oddness gone, Lives just feels very routine, which really defeats the point of it being such a radical departure for the Man of Steel's screen adventures.

Final verdict: In reading and reviewing the changes between the drafts of Superman Lives, I hope you got to see an indentifiable chain of transformation as the script went through different hands. Even if you're the sole writer of your own work, you've still seen how ideas change in response to notes and shifts in focus. Some ideas were refined, some were combined and some were thrown out entirely, as will many of yours. It also, hopefully demonstrated how long some ideas can take to fully take wing or, at least, be more coherent and that little is right on the first try. That's why drafts matter.

Plus, if you're ever hired by DC to write for Supes, you already have an idea what NOT to do.