Scene Harmony
Lewis in harmonyHopefully we’ve all gotten enough arguing done on this site as of late. Let’s get back to the stuff that really matters.
Like writing.
I want to talk about the concept of harmony within a scene. Lots of people come up with good ideas. A number of them come up with good stories for those ideas. Writing good scenes, however, seems to be a much rarer skill.
I consider a good scene to be its own movie. There’s a beginning, middle and end. There is conflict, crisis, resolution and cliffhanging. But above all, there is a harmony between the building blocks of the scene itself.
Those are?
- The internal life of the character(s)
- The relationship between the characters
- The relationship of the character(s) to the external circumstances of the story
These are your three instruments that must be played in each scene (unless the scene only features one person, in which case you’re down to two instruments).
(Side note: I don’t know if screenwriting teachers agree with me or not or so forth. This is how I look at stuff. Don’t write and tell me that I’m clashing with McKee or Truby. I’ve never read them, and more importantly, I don’t care.)
A classic rookie mistake is to write a scene with two or more characters that doesn’t use all three building blocks. The main character is realizing something about himself in the scene, and there’s an interesting thing happening between the two characters, but the scene doesn’t advance the story in any significant way, and if cut out of the film, wouldn’t be missed.
Or perhaps two characters are having a fight while accomplishing a plot point, but the fight isn’t internally relevant to the main character.
Let’s say, however, that you’ve got a scene that has all three tools working.
Are they working in parallel, or in sequence? Are the working in isolation, or in integration?
Are they harmonizing or simply playing their own tunes?
Rather than intellectualize this concept, I’m going to ask you to read a scene by a real master of the craft. Scott Frank wrote this scene for his film The Lookout. After considering how to best present this scene in the context of this web page, I opted for maximum laziness and just embedded the PDF. This should work in Safari for Mac and Firefox and IE for PC. If you need the Adobe Reader plugin, go here.
(Actually, since people were having issues with the plugin, it’s now just a direct link)
Here’s the backstory you need before reading the scene (and spoilers apply, of course). LEWIS, played by Jeff Daniels, lives with the main character, Chris Pratt. All we know about Lewis is that he’s blind and clearly more wise than the 20-something Chris, who suffers from accident-related brain damage. Lewis basically looks after Chris. He even cooks his meals for him.
LUVLEE, played by Isla Fisher, has been sleeping with Chris, but what we know is that she’s really the girlfriend of another guy who is using Chris to rob a bank. Chris has told Lewis that Luvlee is his girlfriend, but he hasn’t told Lewis anything about the plan to rob the bank.
Luvlee has just slept over at Chris and Lewis’ apartment for the first time. It’s the middle of the night…
Okay.
So let’s talk about how these pages epitomize harmony in scenecraft.
On the first page, we learn that Luvlee is a stripper, or at least used to be one. But instead of coming out and telling us, we learn this fact by way of Lewis’ internal character. It’s his blindness…and the attendant qualities of being blind…that allow him to draw the conclusion we hadn’t yet made, and thus pull something out of Luvlee that neither she, nor any other character, nor the plot itself, had yet managed to do. Meanwhile, she’s immediately thrown off guard by Lewis from the very beginning of the scene. Here’s a blind man she didn’t see…and he’s immediately seeing right through her. So who’s blind?
All on page one. Note that we’re enjoying all three axes of scenecraft working in harmony. His character pulls out plot which sets the tone of the relationship…and there are no seams showing yet.
Now…page two.
Here, we watch as Lewis and Luvlee settle into a wrestling match. Page one was just the warning shot. Lewis has announced to Luvlee that he sees more than most people. And Luvlee, with her casual “Wow. You hear about that…”, has decided that playing the dumb stripper act is probably the best strategy here to avoid revealing too much. Of course, we’ve also learned something internal about Lewis, which is that he’s not yet willing to reveal anything about his blindness. Why? And why is Luvlee lying to him? These internal and interrelational elements are working together in service to unearth a nugget of external, or plot, information.
Lewis tries the head-on approach. She clams up. He shows his cards when he asks about Gary, confirming Luvlee’s suspicions (and note…the fact that Luvlee was suspicious before Gary asks is an intentional choice in and of itself!), and she not only keeps her silence, but goes on the attack.
She decides to figure out just whom she’s dealing with here. Is Lewis a brother? A father? Just how protective of Chris is he? Is this just curiosity, or is Lewis a danger? So she smartly turns the tables on him, revealing both to Lewis and the audience a heretofore unestablished caginess. As she interrogates Lewis, her character transforms from a dingy moll into a much smarter cookie. Hell, not just smart, but a bit dangerous.
“Maybe your only friend?”
Ouch. And she was so sweet just a moment ago…
Now Lewis realizes he’s not dealing with some airhead stripper he can push around. This is a real human being in front of him who’s smart enough to hear what he has to say.
He has a goal in this scene: protect Chris. That’s plot.
In order to achieve his plot goal, he has to reveal something about his internal character. His hope is that the truth of his internal character will change the relationship between him and Luvlee, and that in turn will help save Chris.
And so, Lewis reveals how he was blinded.
And folks, that’s all in two pages.
When people talk about “tight” writing, this is what they mean. Everything’s beautifully interlaced. The elements are affecting each other and looping back around. Oh, and take note…the quality of the dialogue itself is almost secondary. Dialogue doesn’t have to be sparkling in and of itself. It just has to be properly chosen in order to achieve the harmony you need in your purposeful scene.
Now, let’s go on to page three.
We already knew Lewis was a cook, but now we come to learn that Lewis was a cook. The implication between them now is that some people cook stuff up, and other people eat it. You know…there’s con artists and suckers…and that’s the world.
When Lewis asks “What are y’all cookin’, sweetheart?” he’s not just asking, “What are you and Gary up to?” He’s saying, “I was one of you, so come clean.” When you layer significances, the scene becomes more compelling. Harmony.
Trapped like a rat, Luvlee becomes petulant. See, once Lewis tells her he used to be a meth cook, she realizes that this blind glimp can probably read her mind. They’re of the same tribe. She briefly tries a new tactic…the “saint” who wants to help Chris, but even she knows that’s not going to hold up.
So she switches to a new strategy…which is denial and then anger. And with each new strategic switch, she reveals more and more that her internal voice is guilty, guilty, guilty of a crime. In this case, the interpersonal starts to reveal the personal, and once Lewis has her on the ropes, he attempt to actualize his goal.
“So tonight, in the dark, let me help you out and ask it again: what are you doing here?”
Lewis doesn’t ever say “You’re using Chris.” Nor does he say, “I’ll go to the police.” Nor does he say, “I’ll kill you if you hurt my friend.” Nor does he ever find out what Luvlee is even up to.
What he asks of Luvlee is simply this: “What are you doing here?”
His internal revelation has changed the interpersonal dynamic to reveal something about her internal state which leads him to the best strategy to achieve his external goal.
And that strategy is clearly guilt. He’s trying to guilt her into letting Chris off her perfumed hook for whatever it is she and her boyfriend Gary are trying to pull.
Three and a half pages.
The scene isn’t great because of the information revealed or the relationship between Luvlee and Lewis or the internal truths of their characters.
It’s great because of the way those elements all worked in harmony.
And it’s the harmony that makes good writing great.
Okay, so that is why my writing sucks. Thanks for the heads up, Craig!
Thank you for the great example and explanation!
For me, embedding the .pdf was a bit of a disaster that almost crashed my computer!
Damn you and your laziness!
6/13/07 Draft Notes.
Scott, we appreciate the tremendous amount of work you’ve put into this scene. In the next pass, we would like to focus on the following:
1) Let’s explain why Lewis is awake in the middle of the night eating pie. Perhaps in addition to his chronic blindness he suffers from sleep apnea, a disorder he controls with medication that has to be taken four times daily with food.
2) Instead of pie, let’s consider having Lewis eat something that will better establish the rules for someone with serious health issues. Perhaps fruit or something oaty. We like the idea that the “pie” is not homemade.
3) Let’s consider changing Luvlee’s name. While we understand what you’re trying to do, it’s too on the nose.
4) Instead of the stripper backstory we have in this version, let’s consider making Luvlee an investigative reporter. We need to make her character more organic to the story — perhaps she’s writing an article about famous bank heists for a regional publication.
5) Lewis’s explanation/confession about his blindness seems forced and unrealistic. Instead of the meth lab accident, let’s consider the idea that Lewis was born blind. Or perhaps when he was an infant, the vitreous humour in his eyeballs became infected during a vacation with his parents and he forever lost the ability to see. This is something Lewis should have suffered from his whole life — we need to further explore how his blindness manifests his internal emotions.
6) We’d like to have Luvlee’s cell phone ring during the scene. She checks caller ID. It’s Gary. She doesn’t answer it, telling Lewis, “Wrong number.”
7) Let’s consider changing the line “Well, thank you, asshole.” Lewis and Luvlee are not members of the same tribe — let’s have fun with that idea.
8) Let’s try putting a button on the end of the scene. After Lewis asks Luvlee to try the “killer chicken salad,” he should say, “I’ll kill you if you hurt my friend.”
Evil Embedded PDF crashed Safari, buggered Firefox. Had to get the URL from your source code.
Please link to the rest of the script?
Thx!
And for the really lazy, the link to the pdf is here.
W
I found the article very insightful. Thanks for going to the effort of writing it.
Well done, Craig!
Far more insightful and articulate than the “gurus’ I’ve read.
I encourage you to post more theory!
All I see are the harmonic footprints of commerce and lowest common denominator hegemony.
Where is the art, Scott Frank?
Surely the studio system has not driven it from you fully.
Chabot, That was a perfect reproduction of typical notes. “Let’s consider” is an excellent touch.
Mazin, Nice article!
Great analysis, Craig! I can always use help with dialogue and scene harmony.
That’s a great article: we see on the page what’s good. I want more like that! :)
It’s easier for me to think about the theory in the context of a sequence, rather than scene. And easing the strain on my cognitive ability is the fourth unspoken harmony.
You think the theory applies in comedic scenes or sequences?
Chabot - funny notes yet also quite believable!
On the scene — I have to say it went south for me when she asks if he’s been blind all his life. It’s easy out to deliver back story.
But I was totally ready to forgive it when he responded with the sun line. Then my ability to forgive was exhausted by the meth lab explanation. It wasn’t needed.
The fact that he knows she’s waving her hand in his face is the perfect way - through action — to tell us this guy sees all in spite of his blindness.
And we don’t need to know he cooked meth to see he’s lived on Luvlee’s side of the tracks.
The fact that he’s known a lot of Luvlee’s & Gary’s in his life says it all.
I think this scene could be tighter if the meth lab passage were removed. And there were other areas where I felt there was overkill (hitting us over the head about her being a dancer).
There - I did it - I critiqued Scott Frank. Sigh.
Craig,
Regarding your analysis of the first page…I’m not sure I follow. Is Lewis figuring out that “Luvlee Lemons” was a stripper supposed to be some great insight? Wouldn’t that be pretty obvious to anyone?
Josh “Olsen,” eh? Hmmm….
Aaron, “Luvlee Lemons” could just as well be a porn actress. So it does take some insight.
And I thought when Craig asked us to read a scene by a real master of the craft… he’d link to an excerpt from A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE.
Silly me.
S.A.,
He just mentioned “your line of work.” That could go either way. ;)
SA,
The movie is set in small town Kansas. Why would he think she’s a porn star?
Sometimes it’s nice to not fight and to learn about how guys like me and Scott Frank write.
Craig, I say if this thread goes well, the next one should be another battle royale. Perhaps you could talk about the sliding scale of commerce and art.
Seriously, nice scene, nice topic, nice legs, man.
Chabot, loved the studio notes. So so hilarious and it’s giving me a much-needed boost of confidence now as I remember why I’m the writer and they’re just the note-givers. Susan C, I totally disagree. I love the meth lab story for what it reveals about who he is. Sure we can get info from the one line you cite, but we lose so much texture (For example, before he was blinded, he was careless and forgot to ask essential questions. Now he won’t make that mistake.)
A million thanks for this post!
“It just has to be properly chosen in order to achieve the harmony you need in your purposeful scene.”
While I loved the article, and could read a thousand more from Craig, I personally don’t think this is a tactic I could follow. My characters tend to just… talk. If I try to choose what they say, it’s really hard and the dialogue starts to suck. That’s odd for me since I outline the entire plot thoroughly before I start the first draft, but when it comes to dialogue, I play it more loosey-goosey.
Yes I know, I’m fascinating, aren’t I? I wanted to say something besides “Great post”…
I don’t disparage THE LOOKOUT because it made no money.
I disparage THE LOOKOUT because it tries so desperately hard to be a studio film with indie cred (circa 1999) that it fails miserably.
It bears all the hallmarks of bad development yet presents itself neatly packaged as an indie breakout, brimming with a faux uniqueness of character and situation that just plain ain’t there.
And one can smell capitalism all over this film. A calculated effort to separate indie film lovers from their hard earned cash that (rightfully) failed miserably.
I hope that lessons are learned from this film.
Leave earnest filmmaking to the true artists. Money-grubbers are most definitely not welcome on the independent scene.
Unless they bring the talent and lose the contempt for their perceived audience.
Paula -
I guess it’s a matter of taste.
When I read a script (even my own) I pay attention to when I “pop out” of the livid dream of story. The Meth Lab passage was one such occasion. When I read it I felt the heavy hand of mechanics: explain how he became blind.
Great scenes are seamless. The mechanics are well hidden.
However, on screen this particular passage could slide by more seamlessly if well directed.
Just my opine. :-)
LOL!
Man, whoever it is trying to masquerade as Brother Olson (I’m talking to you, “Olsin”) I gotta say, you sure as hell got a looong road ahead of ya as a writer, ‘cause you didn’t nail his rhythm, dialogue or character point of view AT ALL … which, considering the wealth of Josh Olson posts available as research on this site, where you could submerge into his mindset and come up with something that the “real Olson” might conceivably say in one of these internet conversations … considering that, it’s really pathetic, how bad you are at this … LOL!
I mean, there’s been a couple times Brother Olson posted accidently as anonymous and everyone knew it was him as that his voice is that distinct … Sweet Jesus Juice, it ain’t like he’s been shy about it … a really good writer could reproduce that in an original moment … though I should add, one can identify who anyone is via their IP address, so it’s silly to do so …
In fact, there are a bunch of good writers here who could do that with Craig’s voice, Ted’s voice, Johnny’s, Kevin’s, mine … If I recall, that’s part of the job …
But to do it as badly as you have done, “Olsin”, that’s just sad.
In other words, you suck.
Yeah, sorry, even I don’t believe that was Josh. Someone masquerading as Olsen isn’t even remotely fair.
Another great example of scene harmony is the original script for The Aviator written by John Logan. At around 180 pages, it was still one of the best scripts I’ve ever read.
“The scene isn�t great because of the information revealed or the relationship between Luvlee and Lewis or the internal truths of their characters.
It�s great because of the way those elements all worked in harmony.
And it�s the harmony that makes good writing great.”
Fantastic article Craig. Just another example of why I am loyal follower of your blog. I have always wondered what was meant by “tight writing” and thanks to you, I finally know.
“The scene isn�t great because of the information revealed or the relationship between Luvlee and Lewis or the internal truths of their characters.
It�s great because of the way those elements all worked in harmony.
And it�s the harmony that makes good writing great.”
Fantastic article Craig. Just another example of why I am loyal follower of your blog. I have always wondered what was meant by “tight writing” and thanks to you, I finally know.
I agree with Josh Olsen’s first (short) comment. But not the second (long) one which sounded more like a ELF plug for Sicko.
Just for the record, “Josh Olsen” is not me. I have tremendous admiration for Frank’s work, and loved The Lookout. Hell, it’s my second favorite movie this year, right after Sex And Death 101, which rocks. (Why is it that writer/directors tend to make the best movies? Rhetorical question. We all know the answer…)
Craig, of course, knows it isn’t me, but leaves those idiotic posts up anyway in the hopes that someone MIGHT actually think it’s me. That would serve the dual purpose of A) continuing his ongoing mission to defame me whenever possible (See also the bullshit Wibberly story he likes to propagate), and B) bringing in the hits that he gets when I post here, hits his Fieldian attempt at serious screenwriting analysis doesn’t seem to be bringing him. Heh.
Hate to break it to you, McKeezin, but of all the reasons people come here, learning how to write real screenplays is probably bottom of the list.
(Dr. Phil cameo goes here.)
Josh, no one thought it was you.
Kevin,
Ya never know.
I think this was a dead giveaway:
I’m not even sure the person who wrote this speaks English fluently.
Craig, thanks for the insightful article. Of course now you’re forcing me to go back and make sure all my scenes are in harmony. But first, I have to go take a shower… with soap.
Me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me.
Me me me me me me me me me me me me.
Me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me me.
Yours,
Me
Damn. Is there any way to avoid Mazin versus Olson 10? I know for starters the peanut gallery is gonna have to avoid defending their mutual Gods…who, btw, must be creeped out by their respecive sycophants.
There’s writing at stake here.
P.S.
Craig, you’re like a God to me and your voice is distinct like Rembrant’s strokes. Your words of truth are painted across the infranets and mostly, you’re always right.
About everything.
Suicide:
I’m staying out of this latest bit. :)
Love ya Josh, but the Wibberly story isn’t bullshit.
THIS I wanna hear… Did they shove Josh into the corner? Make him eat his pocket protector? Punch him in the guts with a forboding warning? Did he cry?! Come on, he cried right?!!
Nice scene, a bit talky, but well done.
One Note: the two typos on page 3 really bugged me. It reads: Gary’s and Luvlee’s (as in, “I’ve known lots of Gary’s.”)
Apostrophes are posessive, not plural. It should’ve read: Garys and Luvlees.
It’s minor, I know, but for a polished, finished script - it bugged me.
Josh,
Are you even aware of how you come off here?
I’ve been visiting this site regularly for two years, I find it informative and entertaining. And while I admire A History of Violence, I have a hard time reconciling the person who wrote it (who spoke so eloquently on the dvd features) with the blathering self-important egomaniac on these boards.
Which one is the real Josh Olson?
No kidding. I’ve never seen an Oscar nom go to someone’s head more. And I’m including actors.
I knew I was in trouble when I saw the snarling ball of manliness glaring at me from across the room. “Holy shit,” I said to my producer, “I’d hate to be on the receiving end of his wrath.”
He strode across the room in his seven league boots, his eyes flashing a contained, manly rage, and he stepped right up to me and said, “Hey, you miserable SOB, are you that asshole who told my wife that if you write a movie like Charlie’s Angels 2 you gotta be willing to accept a Razzberrie?”
“I… I… I…” I stammered.
“I’m Cormac Wibberly,” he seethed at me.
“Sweet Jesus,” I said. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
“You can do one thing,” he said. “You could die.”
“We better run for it,” my producer whispered in my ear.
“Which way?” I whimpered.
He pointed to the elevator, and we fled.
And here’s the worst thing about the whole encounter - we had to cancel our meeting, because both of us had wet our pants.
A truly terrifying encounter, and one I hope never to have to repeat.
Even thinking about it, all these months later, has me…
Oh, shit. I wet my pants again.
Unbelievable, we’re back to Olson vs. All again.
Un
be
leev
uh’
ble.
At least have a new fight. There’s so many differant things to be obnoxious about…like writing. What are Craig’s opinions about writing? What are Josh’s?
And most importantly, what are Brother Jonnie’s?
Now that’s harmony.
When’s the Olson/ Wibberley steel cage match gonna be on pay-per-view?
I admit it; I come here mainly for the entertainment value of the comments section. Thanks Mazin and Olson.
I’ve noticed this kind of thing happening on other writer forums. Not just screenwriting forums, but also on journalism boards, prose writing boards, technical writing boards, etc. It’s funny how normally timid writers get so agressive on the Internet. And it certainly makes for good entertainment. Of course, entertainment may not be the mission of Craig’s site and perhaps he wishes it all would stop. I suppose the side show has taken over the main show.
Josh:
My basic feeling is that whatever draws a reader to this site, good for us and them.
While I don’t mind that Olson is here, it wouldn’t make much of a difference if he stopped showing up. I’m at a bit of an advantage, as I’m the one who receives the email from our readers. Olson hasn’t been mentioned yet. The comment sections are actually not that popular, in terms of links visited. The vast majority of our readers just read the articles I write.
Craig:
People sense my brilliance and Oscar nomination from the front page, even if they don’t click on the comments. Sure, you have your little “facts” and “statistics,” but you can’t measure animal magnetism with your computing device. It’s off the scales, baby.
As I’m typing this, I feel ten more people drawn to read your articles. They’re out there. Their admiration warms and fills me. Wait, there’s another one: a guy who was going to look up a recipe for banana pancakes suddenly needed to see what makes a good scene, and he doesn’t know why.
But we do. Don’t we, Craig? Don’t we?
It’s me. I. Josh. I. Me.
Craig,
What you read are the e mails from fans. What you don’t read are the e mails that circulate from people who don’t wish or need to approach you. When there’s a firestorm going here, the e mails fly.
Speaking as someone who knows a lot of people who read your site, most of us skim the articles and get right to the comments section, because, as Josh pointed out, they’re entertaining, and a lot more informative than most of your articles. When it comes to minutae of WGA dealings, you seem to know a lot, but when it comes to opinion pieces, or articles on screenwriting itself, you don’t offer anything that any other baseline pro couldn’t write. This is why most of your fan mail comes from amateurs.
Finally, not that Olson needs any defense here, but I think there’s something bizarre about the way it works here. You, or one of your sycophants posts something nasty about the guy, then, when he responds, you accuse him of being an egomaniac who’s making it all about himself. If someone were posting as “Craig Mazun” and using it to attack you, you’d be pulling those posts the instant they appeared.
I’m not arguing that you should play fair. It’s your site, after all. But it would be nice if you’d play with at least a sense of ethics.
Sam:
I disagree. I don’t think the Josh parodies are uncivil. I have a sense of ethics. You may have a different one, but I clearly apply principles to the publication of this site.
As to your larger point, unless you know tens of thousands of people who read this site, your statistical observations aren’t as valuable to me as the raw numbers I can check.
So Sam, there’s a huge group of you that secretly email each other to commiserate every time someone disagrees with Josh?
That’s, um, really sad.
So Sam, there’s a huge group of you that secretly email each other to commiserate every time someone disagrees with Josh?
That’s, um, really sad.
Craig,
Once you started posting ugly rumours about the personal behavior of someone who posts here, you made it clear that your principles are elastic.
I’m certain that your numbers show something that any one person’s experience can’t compete with, but within the business, the only thing anyone who reads this site ever talks about is the comments section. Your battle with JF Lawton got a lot more industry attention than the article that led to it.
To the non-pros who read these sorts of sites, you’re a wonderful craftsman who generously shares his bounteous wisdom, but a lot of pros view you as a company man, and your vigorous personal attacks on people who speak out against your agenda are duly noted.
Sam:
I don’t know who you are, but I you sound like a complete fraud. Go ahead and email me your full name and phone number, and I’ll call you and we can talk this through.
Otherwise, you’re wasting my time by accusing me (falsely) of spreading ugly rumors while, in the same breath…
…spreading an ugly rumor.
Guys like you are the real cost of running this website.
From my dictionary:
Rumor: “a story or statement in general circulation without confirmation or certainty as to facts.”
The story you have told here about the Olson/Wibberley confrontation is a textbook example of a rumor, as I’m sure you know. Using this forum to spread it, then proclaiming your ethical high-mindedness is ridiculous.
I’d gladly post my real name here, but you obviously don’t know where the line is, so I’ll remain anonymous, and I’d advise anyone else who wants to disagree with you here to do the same.
Fake.
Craig,
I guess you’d know best whether or not someone was a fake here, but “Sam” has a point. That story was a rumor, and it was posted with malicious intent.
Why give a shit whether Sam is “real” or Olson’s baksheeshed cousin..? The guy has an opinion and he is articulate and civil in expressing it. Why does he have to prove his true identity-? There’s plenty of cats on this blog who post drivel under idiotic names…
Searcey:
I didn’t post the story.
I said I heard a story.
Olson posted the story. His version of it, that is.
Just trying to stop Sam’s “truthiness” from catching on.
Mazin posted that he’d heard a rumor, then, later, he posted the actual rumor.
It’s all here in black and white, until he deletes the evidence.
Eh, who am I kidding. It’s me, Josh! I thought I’d make up a bunch of names and pretend I had a lot of support.
It’s pretty pitiful, now that I think about it.
Sorry.
This is all very boring and off-topic. I’m happy to accept continued comments on the main article.
Otherwise, enough.