Common Mistakes in Script Development

I wouldn’t be surprised if one of your first thoughts right now is “Who the hell are you, and what do you know about script development?” Now that is a fair question and I have to say, there are certainly many people out there that have done what I’ve been doing over the last several years for MUCH longer than I have, and have done so successfully. Also there are great books written by incredible authors which are essential reading.

I don’t expect you to take my word with absolute authority. All I’m setting out to do here, is share what I’ve learned in those 9 years since I started developing feature film scripts. And as someone who looks at development from a writer’s, director’s, and producer’s perspective, I have seen what makes script development hard, what makes it easy, and at least what makes it interesting.

Overconfidence tends to produce the worst scripts

My colleague Luke Foster and I started developing screenplays together when we made our first feature film. He’s primarily a writer and deals with submissions at Iron Box, while I’m primarily a director and producer and usually deal with scripts when Luke thinks it’s worth me having a look at it. Whenever writers approach us directly with their scripts, the more confident they are in their script, the worse the writing tends to be. And with worse, I don’t mean “well it’s not my thing.” I mean poorly written action lines and dialogue, over complicated or inaccessible characters, basic plot rip offs, unoriginal settings, boring visuals, etc. They usually lack in most if not all of those aspects.

Once, one of the worst scripts we’ve ever read was handed to us with the words “This is my master piece.”

Now I’m not a psychologist, but I have a theory as to why that correlation between quality and over-confidence exists. People who think that highly of their work cannot think about it critically. They don’t recognise when they’ve done something poorly, even if you constructively explain it to them. That has happened to us several times, where we gave constructive feedback and the reaction was defensive and protectionist, instead of embracing the feedback and seeking solutions. You don’t have to agree, but you should be willing to accept that there might be a problem, and you are at least interested in seeking a solution for it.

What I’ve also seen happen, and this isn’t unique to writers at all, is that there can be a ‘big fish in a little pond’ effect. A writer might win an award for the script at some small script festival or event, which then unfortunately makes the person think that because they won this award, they MUST be amazing. But what really happened, is that the scripts submitted to that event were all probably of poor quality, it’s just that this one wasn’t as bad. And I’ve seen that happen with directors and producers alike. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen too often in professional circles. But it’s not uncommon in people who don’t do it for a living.

Now confidence isn’t a bad thing. I’m not criticising confidence. I’m critiquing over-confidence and the unwillingness to deal with problems because of it. A healthy balance of confidence in one’s abilities is good, but accepting that your work still needs work will go a long way in increasing the quality of the script.

Those f***ing notes! Wtf do they mean?!

As far as development goes, nothing is worse for a writer (or any creative for that matter!) than confusing notes from multiple sources which are contradictory or vague.

Directors are often really bad at giving usable feedback. It’s often lofty and has very little tangible meaning to a writer. Instead of dealing directly with the problem, feedback from directors can be lengthy with very little helpful information in it. Also directors often want too many things at once. They want it to be subtle but explosive, challenging but simple, etc etc. The more vague adjectives the merrier. And it is incredibly frustrating for both writers and producers to decipher wtf he or she means.

Conversely, Producer’s notes tend to be very direct, but give no explanation as to what problem is being solved or what the purpose implementing that feedback would be. To be fair, Producers do have to think beyond the story of a film, because they are creating a product, so their feedback will address things that are not necessarily only motivated by the story. But to a writer, it’s very difficult to put things into the script, when he or she cannot make it feel like an organic part of the story. Some Producers even go as far as to demand certain things appear without explanation. Because after all, THEY are the producers. That is very unhelpful and is often the reason writers simply “do the notes” rather than solve the problems, which usually results in a mess.

Then there’s notes from executives, sales, distribution, actors, etc etc. What all those notes do is create confusion instead of clarity. The result is that more drafts are written, costing the production company more money, and taking away valuable time. And if there is a time limit on the option on a property, making sure the writer has clear notes between drafts is essential so there’s good progress on the story.

To solve this, as producers Luke and I basically act as a filter for the writer. Instead of just copying and pasting the notes into an email, we take them all and write up our own feedback document for the writer, so the writer doesn’t have to do the deciphering. We will deal with any possible contradictions and uncertainties to make sure the notes are clear and direct. We try to help identify the problems and also make some suggestions on how to solve them. That may seem like we’re doing the writer’s job, but what we are actually doing, is streamlining our information so both the writer and the producing team are on the same page. Our approach is definitely more hands on, but most writers we’ve worked with really appreciate it and feel like they’re entering the next draft with MUCH more clarity and spend less time figuring out what everyone wants.

Writing is magic

I’ve heard a version of this quote several times over the years (and I’m paraphrasing here):

“Creativity is a mystical event of inspiration as the words fall onto paper. You just need to let the magic happen, and interfering in it with processes, structure, or some kind of committee just gets in the way of creativity. Just let the creatives create magic. That’s the best way.”

In fact, there are only a handfull of writers who are amazing at writing brain-to-paper without prep. Most of the time, that ‘magic’ just creates a mess. The characters tend to be all over the place, the plot lacks any resemblance of a structure and the premise is usually very unclear.

More often than not, you need to start with a framework. A blueprint if you will. To have an idea of where you’re going before you’re going there. Now you don’t have to stick to that framework. You can change it around if you find heading in a different direction is better and more organic. But you won’t know that if you don’t have a map to begin with. And that map can be a simple 1-3 page character summary, a beat sheet, or a 40 page outline. Often, it’s a combo of all of those.

Every writer has their own process and it’s best to not impose artificial milestones if they make the writer uncomfortable. But in the end, writing isn’t magic. Writing a screenplay is like brick laying when building a house. Would you build a house with just a pile of bricks and then you just start laying them down one by one? Or would you first draw a blueprint of what you’d like the place to look like, and THEN you start laying bricks. Writing a script is no different.

It’s not magic. It’s just hard work. And as a developing producer, you need to help find a way to reduce the amount of time it takes to do the work, while not constantly telling the person laying the bricks how to do it. You did hire them for a reason.

I’m not changing sh**!

That is probably the most poisonous stance any creative can have. Especially in a collaborative environment like filmmaking. There will be constant challenges and there will be times when you have to draw lines in the sand. But what’s actually the most important thing is to not let your own ego get in the way of the story.

As a fairly stubborn person myself, that was a hard lesson to learn. But what I realised, is that you should at the very least humour killing your darling. By humouring the idea that you might have to change something you really, really like, you might end up with a much better idea, or you might end up with a much clearer understanding as to why you CAN’T change it.

If you’re faced with having to make a drastic change, look at how it could improve the story. And if the original idea of the change wont do it, could a different version of that change do it? Basically make sure it actually improves the story overall. The important thing is to find justification for the changes. But you can only find that justification, if your ego doesn’t stand in the way of it.

“Willingness to change” is not the same thing as changing stuff every time someone tells you to do so. It just means that you can accept that your ideas aren’t precious. They should never be just because they’re your ideas. They need to be precious because the story can’t work without it, not because you thought of it.