Hotheaded screenwriter Dix Steele hires a hat-check girl to read a book for him, then sends her home just before she gets killed. His only alibi is his neighbor Laurel Grey, who saw him around that time but isn’t sure about the timeline. Dix begins a romance with Laurel, but she begins to have her doubts about his innocence.
PART
#1: CONCEPT 16/19
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The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who
hears about it?
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Is the
one sentence description uniquely appealing?
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An angry screenwriter is accused of murder, then falls in
love with the beautiful woman who provided his alibi, but she’s not sure he’s
really innocent.
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Does
the concept contain an intriguing ironic contradiction?
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Yes, a writer of
crime stories is caught up in one.
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Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto
a bigger canvas, with higher stakes?
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Yes.
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Story Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a
strong story?
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Is the
concept simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?
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Yes, the plot all happens offscreen,
all we see are the emotional reactions to it.
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Is
there one character that the audience will choose to be their “hero”?
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Yes, Dix.
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Does
the story follow the progress of the hero’s problem, not the hero’s daily
life?
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Yes. We zip
through a lot of time.
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Does
the story present a unique relationship?
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Yes, a romance
between a man and the stranger that alibis him.
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Is at
least one actual human being opposed to what the hero is doing?
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Yes, everyone, to
varying degrees.
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Does
this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or
an ironic answer to the hero’s question?
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Yes, greatest
hope: return of love and career passion, greatest fear: his anger goes out of
control, ironic answer: he asks “what happens in the book?” then he lives it.
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Does
something inside the hero have a particularly volatile reaction to the
challenge?
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Yes, very.
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Does
this challenge become something that is the not just hard for the hero to do (an obstacle) but hard for the hero
to want to do (a conflict)?
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Yes, he thinks he
needs his anger to survive and to write well.
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In the
end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
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No. His friends care more about
helping him, both externally and internally, than he does himself. This should kill the movie but it
doesn’t. This is very rare: a
compelling story about refusing to help yourself.
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Does
the hero permanently transform the situation and vice versa?
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Transform the
situation: he pushes Laurel too far and out of his life. Transform the hero: “I lived a while
while she loved me, I died when she left me.”
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The
Hook: Will this be marketable and generate word of mouth?
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Does
the story satisfy the basic human urges that get people to buy and recommend
this genre?
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No. No crimes are committed onscreen, there is no climactic
act of violence, the crime is also solved offscreen, and the perpetrator is
someone we don’t know.
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Does
this story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be
used to promote the final product)?
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No. That’s a problem.
It has no noir imagery.
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Is
there at least one “Holy Crap!” scene (to create word of mouth)?
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Not really, but the level of darkness
Bogart taps into must have been shocking at the time.
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Does
the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
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Sort of: by that
point we’re half convinced that he did it, but he didn’t.
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Is the
story marketable without revealing the surprise?
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Yes.
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Is the
conflict compelling and ironic both before and after the surprise?
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Yes.
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PART
#2: CHARACTER 19/22
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Believe:
Do we recognize the hero as a human being?
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Does
the hero have a moment of humanity early on? (A funny, or kind, or oddball,
or out-of-character, or comically vain, or unique-but-universal “I thought I
was the only one who did that!” moment?)
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Yes, he’s funny
with the kids, kind to the drunk.
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Is the
hero defined by ongoing actions and attitudes, not by backstory?
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Yes. He is problems are defined by almost
getting in that fight, not by what we then find out about his stalled out
career.
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Does
the hero have a well-defined public identity?
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Yes, talented
misanthrope.
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Does
the surface characterization ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?
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Somewhat, he’s a
better person than he seems to be, since he stands up for the drunk and
secretly sends flowers to dead girl.
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Does
the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job,
background, or developmental state)?
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Yes, mock-film
noir, based on his screenwriting career.
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Does
the hero have a default personality trait?
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Yes, sarcasm
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Does
the hero have a default argument tactic?
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Yes, encourages
them to talk, lets them hang themselves, then shoots them down swiftly and
brutally. Or he just punches
them.
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Is the
hero’s primary motivation for tackling this challenge strong, simple, and
revealed early on?
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No, it’s complex and contradictory:
Does he want the Althea Bruce job or not? Does he want to write something for quick money or
something meaningful? Is he
looking for love? For sex? Does he have a death wish? A desire
to be imprisoned? Does he want
to deal with his anger issues or not?
Unlike most heroes, he is a man or dark, murky, contradictory
impulses. And yet, we love him
and find him utterly compelling.
He’s an exception to the rule.
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Care:
Do we feel for the hero?
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Does
the hero start out with a shortsighted or wrongheaded philosophy (or accept a
false piece of advice early on)?
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Yes: “She’s right,
I am nobody.”
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Does
the hero have a false or shortsighted goal in the first half?
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Yes, write a
quickie picture for some money.
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Does
the hero have an open fear or anxiety about his or her future, as well as a
hidden, private fear?
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Open: that he’s
wasted his life. Hidden: that
he’ll kill somebody.
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Is the
hero physically and emotionally vulnerable?
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Yes, very much
so. Bogart was great at acting
tough and then totally wilting.
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Does
the hero have at least one untenable great flaw we empathize with? (but…)
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Yes, his hostility
cannot be controlled.
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Invest:
Can we trust the hero to tackle this challenge?
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…Is that great flaw (ironically) the natural
flip-side of a great strength we admire?
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Yes, he’s brutally
honest and a great writer.
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Is the
hero curious?
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No. He refuses to pay attention to key facts he needs to
hear.
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Is the
hero generally resourceful?
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No. Others have to take care of him.
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Does
the hero have rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?
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Yes: One day I’ll write
something great, I won’t be insulted, I must never show my real emotions.
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Is the
hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?
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Yes, only he is
kind to the drunk, only he speaks his mind.
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…And
is the hero willing to let them know that, subtly or directly?
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Very much so, he has a
razor-sharp rapier wit
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Is the
hero already doing something active when we first meet him or her?
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Yes, he’s on his way to
meeting about a job.
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Does
the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
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Yes, he’s his own
boss.
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Does
the hero use pre-established special skills from his or her past to solve
problems (rather than doing what anybody would do)?
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Yes. “It was his
story against mine…Of course, I told my story better.” “I’ve had a lot of experience in
matters of this kind, I’ve killed a lot of people…in pictures.”
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PART
#3: STRUCTURE (If the story is about the solving of a large problem) 17/21
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1st
Quarter: Is the challenge laid out in the first quarter?
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When
the story begins, is the hero becoming increasingly irritated about his or
her longstanding social problem (while still in denial about an internal
flaw)?
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No, in this story, he is already aware
of his internal flaw, which is the same as his longstanding personal problem:
his bad anger management.
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Does
this problem become undeniable due to a social humiliation at the beginning
of the story?
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Yes, he almost
gets in a fight in the street, then his few friends chew him out for almost
getting in another fight at his favorite restaurant.
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Does
the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem?
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In a roundabout
way: a girl’s death brings his old cop friend and a new girlfriend into his
life, both of whom will offer him compassion while challenging him on his
anger issues.
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Does
the hero hesitate until the stakes are raised?
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Yes, he hesitates
about pursuing Laurel.
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Does the hero commit to pursuing the opportunity by the
end of the first quarter?
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Indirectly: He
commits to pursuing the girl, and she commits to solving his problems for
him.
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2nd
Quarter: Does the hero try the easy way in the second quarter?
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Does
the hero’s pursuit of the opportunity quickly lead to an unforeseen conflict
with another person?
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Yes, Laurel’s
masseuse is opposed to the relationship, his cop buddy’s boss and wife both
distrust Dix.
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Does
the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?
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Yes, he blows off
the murder accusation and his early relationship is idyllic.
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Does
the hero have a little fun and get excited about the possibility of success?
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Yes, he thinks
he’s solved all of his personal problems and cleared his name.
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Does the
easy way lead to a big crash around the midpoint, resulting in the loss of a
safe space and/or sheltering relationship?
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Yes, at the beach
picnic, Dix realizes that his girl and his friend are conspiring against
him. As a result, he almost
murders another driver. Neither relationship is ever the same.
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3rd
Quarter: Does the hero try the hard way in the third quarter?
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Does
the hero try the hard way from this point on?
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No. He remains in denial until almost the end.
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Does
the hero find out who his or her real friends and real enemies are?
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Yes, finds out cop
has stood by him, but Laurel is unwilling to.
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Do the
stakes, pace, and motivation all escalate at this point?
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Yes. His marriage
proposal creates a crisis.
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Does
the hero learn from mistakes in a painful way?
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Yes, but not until
it’s too late.
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Does a
further setback lead to a spiritual crisis?
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Yes, but only at
the very end when he realizes that his fiancé is leaving him.
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4th
Quarter: Does the challenge climax in the fourth quarter?
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Does
the hero adopt a corrected philosophy after the spiritual crisis?
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Yes: “I lived a
few weeks while she loved me.”
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After
that crisis, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal, which
still seems far away?
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No. The movie is over.
He is destroyed.
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Before
the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has your hero
switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?
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Yes, he proposes
marriage, forcing her hand.
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Despite
these proactive steps, is the timeline unexpectedly moved up, forcing the
hero to improvise for the finale?
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Yes, he discovers
that she is leaving him.
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Do all
strands of the story and most of the characters come together for the
climactic confrontation?
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Almost, if they had all come together
at the engagement dinner, things might have worked out, but the last piece of
the puzzle doesn’t arrive until they’re alone, when things are too late.
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Does
the hero’s inner struggle climax shortly after (or possible at the same time
as) his or her outer struggle?
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Yes, after he is
cleared, the real internal crisis comes.
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Is
there an epilogue/ aftermath/ denouement in which the challenge is finally
resolved (or succumbed to), and we see how much the hero has changed
(possibly through reversible behavior)
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Yes, he watches
her walk away and declares himself dead inside.
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PART
#4: SCENEWORK 20/20 (Laurel has made secret plans to leave town, but Dix
makes her go to his favorite restaurant to celebrate their engagement with
his agent, his alcoholic friend, and others)
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The
Set-Up: Does this scene begin with the essential elements it needs?
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Were
tense and/or hopeful (and usually false) expectations for this interaction
established beforehand?
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Yes, we know that
she’s planned her escape, and that he has no idea.
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Does
the scene eliminate small talk and repeated beats by cutting out the
beginning (or possibly even the middle)?
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Yes, we begin when
the last person arrives.
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Is
this an intimidating setting that keeps characters active?
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Yes, his ex walks
in, he’s been warned there about his behavior before, etc.
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Is one
of the scene partners not planning to have this conversation (and quite
possibly has something better to do)?
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Laurel has
something better to do but is forced to stay.
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Is
there at least one non-plot element complicating the scene?
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Yes, the drunk
friend just adds a note of pathos and humor.
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Does
the scene establish its own mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious
anticipation)?
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Yes, we know that
there’s a danger that various people might call. We know that Laurel has
tickets out of town.
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The
Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively manner?
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Does this scene both advance the plot and reveal
character through emotional reactions?
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Very much so. Dix finally loses it, punches out his
agent, etc.
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Does
the audience have (or develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may
sometimes shift)?
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We’re split, we
can’t decide if we want her to get away or want him to win her back
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Are
two agendas genuinely clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?
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Yes, she wants to
leave him and he wants to get married.
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Does
the scene have both a surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of
which is the primary conflict in this scene)?
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Yes, surface:
force everybody to celebrate, suppressed: force everybody to admit that
they’re betraying him.
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Is the
suppressed conflict (which may or may not come to the surface) implied
through subtext (and/or called out by the other character)?
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Yes. The
discussion of the screenplay parallels the other tensions.
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Are
the characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?
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Yes. Laurel is lying that she still loves
Dix, the agent lies about his feelings about the script. Dix is in denial about his suspicion
that Laurel is about to flee.
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Do
characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct
confrontation?
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Dix traps his
agent, demands to hear the phone call, Dix’s ex tries to ruin the marriage.
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Is
there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners
(often resulting in just one touch)?
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Just a
little. Mostly, they’re at the
table, until Dix punches his agent.
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Are
objects given or taken, representing larger values?
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Yes, the ominous
phone is handed around.
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The
Outcome: Does this scene change the story going forward?
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As a
result of this scene, does at least one of the scene partners end up doing
something that he or she didn’t intend to do when the scene began?
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Yes, Dix nails
them all, one by one, getting them all to admit things they don’t want to.
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Does
the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the
original intention?
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Yes, the
celebration ruins everything.
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Are
previously-asked questions answered and new questions posed?
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Previous: will the
agent like the script? Will the
studio? Will Laurel get away?
New: why are the police calling?
Where has Laurel gone?
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Does
the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by
the circumstances of the next scene)?
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Yes, where is he
going?
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Is the
audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next?
(Not just in the next scene, but generally)
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Very much so. We’re now terrified about what might
happen in the next scene.
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PART
#5: DIALOGUE 14/16
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Empathetic:
Is the dialogue true to human nature?
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Does
the writing demonstrate empathy for all of the characters?
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Very much so. The novel was written by a woman from
Laurel’s point of view and the screenplay is written by a man from Dix’s
point of view, but it retains a tremendous amount of empathy towards Laurel,
and everyone else.
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Does
each of the characters, including the hero, have a limited perspective?
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Very much so.
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Do the
characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather
than the wants of others?
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For the most part. Laurel decides to save Dix, but in a
believable way: she never sacrifices her own wants and needs to his.
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Are
the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and
even to themselves)?
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Very much so.
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Do the
characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say and doing things they
wouldn’t do?
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Yes.
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Do the
characters interrupt each other often?
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Dix more than
Laurel, but yes.
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Specific: Is the dialogue specific to this world
and each personality?
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Does
the dialogue capture the jargon and tradecraft of the profession and/or
setting?
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Yes, in many ways.
For example: Dix’s monologue about how the breakfast scene is the ideal love
scene, not suspecting that she no longer loves him, shows how the false
omniscience of the screenwriter has blinded him to reality.
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Are
there additional characters with distinct metaphor families, default
personality traits, and default argument strategies from the hero’s?
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Metaphor family: Cop friend: the war, hat check girl: faux-Variety-speak., Default personality trait: Laurel:
cool, sexy and flinty, his cop friend: affable, agent: conciliatory, falsely
positive, Argument strategy: The police chief: lets you hang yourself. Laurel, lets you talk then calmly
restates her original opinion.
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Heightened:
Is the dialogue more pointed and dynamic than real talk?
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Is the
dialogue more concise than real talk?
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Yes.
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Does
the dialogue have more personality than real talk?
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Very much so.
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Are
there minimal commas in the dialogue (the lines are not prefaced with Yes,
No, Well, Look, or the other character’s name)?
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There are a fair number of
commas. It’s a fairly writer-ly
screenplay, which makes sense.
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Do
non-professor characters speak without dependent clauses, conditionals, or
parallel construction?
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Dix is a writer,
so he can get away with it. She
refuses to mirror his flowery language.
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Are
the non-3-dimensional characters impartially polarized into head, heart and
gut?
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Everybody’s
3-dimentionsal.
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Strategic: Are certain dialogue scenes withheld
until necessary?
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Does
the hero have at least one big “I understand you” moment with a love interest
or primary emotional partner?
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They never
really understand each other.
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Is
exposition withheld until the hero and the audience are both demanding to
know it?
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Yes, we don’t find
out anything about his past until his present is compelling.
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Is
there one gutpunch scene, where the subtext falls away and the characters
really lay into each other?
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Yes, the final
confrontation.
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PART
#6: TONE 7/10
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Genre:
Does the story tap into pre-established expectations?
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Is the
story limited to one genre (or multiple genres that are merged from the
beginning?)
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No, it’s halfway between film
noir and neo-gothic romance and doesn’t quite satisfy either.
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Is the
story limited to sub-genres that are compatible with each other, without
mixing metaphors?
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Yes, the Hollywood
movie.
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Does
the ending satisfy most of the expectations of the genre, and defy a few
others?
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No, it doesn’t satisfy any of them,
but that’s the point: this is a feminist film (albeit much less so than the
book) that wants us to be aware of and worried about our urges to see violent
pay-offs. It works brilliantly.
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Separate
from the genre, is a consistent mood (goofy, grim, ‘fairy tale’, etc.)
established early and maintained throughout?
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Yes, witty
cynicism with a strong undercurrent of despair and violence. Established by
the contrast of the almost-fight in the street followed by his gentle witty
interaction with the kids, where he accepts their conclusion that he’s a
nobody.
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Framing:
Does the story set, reset, upset and ultimately exceed its own expectations?
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Is
there a dramatic question posed early on, which will establish in the
audience’s mind which moment will mark the end of the story?
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Yes, did Dix kill
her?
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Does the story use framing devices to establish
genre, mood and expectations?
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No, and the movie suffers for it. We’re never quite sure of what type
of movie it is, and where it’s going.
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Are
there characters whose situations prefigure various fates that might await
the hero?
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Yes, Laurel is
afraid she’ll be killed like the girl, Dix is afraid he’ll end up like the
old drunk.
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Does
foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s
attention on what’s important)?
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Yes, the script uses
metacommentary, the script Dix is working on keeps predicting what will
happen next in his life in ironic ways. Solt keeps our focus off the
investigation and on the relationship.
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Are
reversible behaviors used to foreshadow and then confirm change?
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Yes, can’t write
and then he can, can’t answer the phone, then he can.
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Is the
dramatic question answered at the very end of the story?
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Yes, we find out
that Dix didn’t kill her.
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PART
7: THEME 12/14
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Difficult:
Is the meaning of the story derived from a fundamental moral dilemma?
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Can
the overall theme be stated in the form of an irreconcilable good vs. good
(or evil vs. evil) dilemma?
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Sacrificing for
love vs. self protection.
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Is a
thematic question asked out loud (or clearly implied) in the first half, and
left open?
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Yes: “Why does he
have to be like this?” “Would
you want him any other way?”
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Do the
characters consistently have to choose between goods, or between evils,
instead of choosing between good and evil?
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Somewhat. There aren’t a lot of tough dilemmas for Dix, just for
those who have to decide whether or not to trust him.
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Grounded:
Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
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Does
the story reflect the way the world works?
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Yes. This is a
much scarier vision of humorous misanthropy than the charming version Bill
Murray tends to play.
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Does
the story have something authentic to say about this type of setting (Is it
based more on observations of this type of setting than ideas about it)?
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Yes, this is
clearly a painfully real portrait of Solt’s own world.
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Does
the story include twinges of real life national pain?
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Yes, postwar
domestic violence and depression loom large: “Dix hasn’t been this good since
before the war.”
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Are
these issues and the overall dilemma addressed in a way that avoids moral
hypocrisy?
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Yes.
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Do all
of the actions have real consequences?
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Yes.
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Subtle: Is the theme interwoven throughout so
that it need not be discussed often?
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Do
many small details throughout subtly and/or ironically tie into the thematic
dilemma?
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Yes, the details
of the book, etc.
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Are
one or more objects representing larger ideas exchanged throughout the story,
growing in meaning each time?
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No, not really. The book,
maybe. Briefly with the grapefruit knife, and the phone.
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Untidy:
Is the dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
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Does
the ending tip towards one side of the thematic dilemma without resolving it
entirely?
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Yes, self
protection is better than sacrificing for love, but it’s a painful choice.
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Does
the story’s outcome ironically contrast with the initial goal?
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Yes, he clears his
name but loses the girl anyway.
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In the
end, is the plot not entirely tidy (some small plot threads left unresolved,
some answers left vague)?
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Yes, we never find
out how and why the murder happened.
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Do the
characters refuse (or fail) to synthesize the meaning of the story, forcing
the audience to do that?
|
He synthesizes it
in a pat way, but because we saw him coin that phrase before, we suspect that
he is only pretending to feel the impact, or that he’s summoned up so many
canned feelings for Hollywood that he can’t summon up any raw, authentic
feelings anymore.
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3 comments:
This is a hell of a movie, but I gotta say that until the end, it's only good. Maybe it's the Old Hollywood Style, but it felt a little artificial and distant for most of the run. The climax, though, when Dix and Laurel finally have it out... one of the most wrenching scenes ever shot. And every bit of its emotion is earned. Amazing.
From what I've read, the climax was improvised. That helps explain why it was so damn raw.
It was the perfect suspense/drama scene. Going in, we're very aware that Dixon loves Laurel, and that we care about both characters. We're also very aware that he has a violent temper and is probably capable of murder. We're aware that she's trying to get away from him. What we're not sure of is what the hell he's going to do when he finds out she's leaving. Moreover, it's the end of the movie, so there's a sense of finality to it. When the scene rolls around, the audience really, truly isn't sure how it's going to play out. We're terrified for Laurel, and even for Dixon himself. We hope for the happy ending but anticipate that he'll fail and murder her in a rage. But we don't know. With the raw emotions on display, the whole thing is overwhelming.
Holy shit what an ending. The goal of "inevitable yet surprising" was well met here.
Your checklists are extraordinary. I swear I can learn more from them than three writing books combined. Kudos.
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