Eric Heisserer On Subtext in Screenplays
From his twitter:
- All right, diving in: The demon in the room I want to talk about today is subtext. Subtext makes me suffer so. Oh, the suffering
- Because its delicious presence in a script is the mark of good writing, and its inverse is the sign of bad writing. But there's a catch.
- Playwrights tend to rock subtext, because they have to. The dialogue has to convey more than face value because that's all there is.
- Consequently, people in the theater world pay close attention to the writing. They look at the words carefully. You can dine on Shakespeare.
- But in film and TV subtext can also exist in imagery. You want every shot to be suggestive of something more than what's merely right there.
- And you need to, to attract talented directors and actors. They know quality, they've done theater, they CRAVE subtext.
- And of course, writing it is incredibly hard! Let's not overlook that, shall we? It's alchemy. It's like crafting a really great joke.
- In subtext, everyone builds the punchline in their heads without you telling it. Without subtext, you're explaining the joke to them.
- There are plenty of avenues to subtext, of course. And as script writers we have dialogue, narrative description, wrylies, etc. to play in.
- One Oscar-nominated writer likes to use dialogue in her narrative for it--
DAVID gestures at them, "I'm fine, whatever."
- And just on this tangent, what I like about that option is that we get the meaning of the gesture without telling the actor what to do
- But okay, here's where it gets even WORSE for us as writers. Because guess what, we're making a transitory document. Which means...
- People need to grasp the subtext in a scene or else it will turn out crap.
- And by "people" I mean everyone between you and the finished film/episode/whatever. And here's how that gets tricky:
- Your DIRECTOR and your ACTORS will want as much subtext as possible, because it gives them room to do THEIR jobs well (if they're good).
- The people who get the script BEFORE them tend to fear subtext because they can't be sure how it will land on the screen. So... notes.
- Holy buckets, the notes you will get about limiting, destroying, removing, reducing, and nuking subtext. Oh man.
- 1. "You know, I think you need to put a finer point on what she's saying in this scene..."
- 2. "What is she really saying here? I get that, yeah, but can you make that idea louder?"
- 3. "Just put the words in his mouth; just so the audience knows what he's feeling."
- From strange to awkwardly porny, there are a hundred different ways execs will tell you to kill subtext.
- They are sometimes right to do that! Not often, in my experience, but sometimes. Because finding the right balance in the writing is HARD.
- So, what do we do? Seriously, I'm asking. Why do you think I'm drinking on a Sunday? Well, yes, because it's Sunday but yeah.
- Here's what I've discovered on this terrible path of writing layered content with subtext, and you can use what works for you...
- There is the option of simply "kicking the ball downfield" -- writing essentially "this is how we feel when we see this scene play out."
- That spawns description like: "This is the most heartbreaking moment of her life, and we're all in tears at the end of it."
- BAH TO THAT, I SAY. That is my mouth writing checks. That's me saying, "Fuck it, this isn't my job, it's someone else's, I'm outtie."
- We have a responsibility as writers to know what the characters are feeling AND how they both hide and express it in the same moment.
- Not down to the tiniest gesture (because again we're invading the domain of the actor usually) but it has to have more going on than "Here!"
- So the demon I wrestle with is: How much do I need to say on the page that lets the fearful types know the director/actor will rock it?
- This is where the iterative process can actually help a writer.
- There's an episode of The Simpsons where Homer starts to take a bite of Maggie's BD cake, but Marge has made a spare for him to mess up.
- We sometimes have to do that as writers: Build a draft where all the emotions are signposts, and people talk like NOBODY TALKS IN REAL LIFE.
- And then later, before going out to talent, we offer the artful draft full of subtext, the one that will land capable voices.
- Of course to pull this off you need conspirators in the machine. You need a clever producer or junior somewhere.
- Outside of that option, the only one I've made work part of the time is by building a script with subtextual shorthand, for lack of better.
- In that, I preserve the dialogue best I can where all the subtext lives, but I "explain the punchline" in the narrative immediately after.
- This helps a lot since actors are primarily focused on dialogue. Especially those trained from theater. (And those are the ones you want.)
- TANGENT: You do not want an actor whom you often hear "cuts well together." That's not a marathon runner, there.
- By that I mean someone whose performance must be assembled by your Dr Frankenstein editor from a large volume of takes/shots.
- Subtext works really damn well when it's this sandbox you build for the people taking the script from you to produce the thing.
- And! Oh! Sometimes you can paint subtext in negative space. By that I mean, write to what the scene isn't.
- Or you can make bold the juxtaposition of what's being said and what is being felt or meant on the page.
- Like:
JOE
(please stay)
Just get out. Go.
- This kind of dynamic isn't easily swatted by rushed execs trying to understand the purpose of a scene. Usually.
- Point is: We have a lofty goal here of trying to deliver something that works on at least two levels. You know?
- In our writing, what our characters say is not the truth, but it's a map to the truth.
- When people actually say what they feel, it makes them terribly vulnerable. And vulnerability is nearly extinct thanks to the Internet
- So, my gorgeous monsters, let's keep finding and sharing clever ways to deliver subtext in our stories. That shit is tough, man.
- All right, diving in: The demon in the room I want to talk about today is subtext. Subtext makes me suffer so. Oh, the suffering
- Because its delicious presence in a script is the mark of good writing, and its inverse is the sign of bad writing. But there's a catch.
- Playwrights tend to rock subtext, because they have to. The dialogue has to convey more than face value because that's all there is.
- Consequently, people in the theater world pay close attention to the writing. They look at the words carefully. You can dine on Shakespeare.
- But in film and TV subtext can also exist in imagery. You want every shot to be suggestive of something more than what's merely right there.
- And you need to, to attract talented directors and actors. They know quality, they've done theater, they CRAVE subtext.
- And of course, writing it is incredibly hard! Let's not overlook that, shall we? It's alchemy. It's like crafting a really great joke.
- In subtext, everyone builds the punchline in their heads without you telling it. Without subtext, you're explaining the joke to them.
- There are plenty of avenues to subtext, of course. And as script writers we have dialogue, narrative description, wrylies, etc. to play in.
- One Oscar-nominated writer likes to use dialogue in her narrative for it--
DAVID gestures at them, "I'm fine, whatever."
- And just on this tangent, what I like about that option is that we get the meaning of the gesture without telling the actor what to do
- But okay, here's where it gets even WORSE for us as writers. Because guess what, we're making a transitory document. Which means...
- People need to grasp the subtext in a scene or else it will turn out crap.
- And by "people" I mean everyone between you and the finished film/episode/whatever. And here's how that gets tricky:
- Your DIRECTOR and your ACTORS will want as much subtext as possible, because it gives them room to do THEIR jobs well (if they're good).
- The people who get the script BEFORE them tend to fear subtext because they can't be sure how it will land on the screen. So... notes.
- Holy buckets, the notes you will get about limiting, destroying, removing, reducing, and nuking subtext. Oh man.
- 1. "You know, I think you need to put a finer point on what she's saying in this scene..."
- 2. "What is she really saying here? I get that, yeah, but can you make that idea louder?"
- 3. "Just put the words in his mouth; just so the audience knows what he's feeling."
- From strange to awkwardly porny, there are a hundred different ways execs will tell you to kill subtext.
- They are sometimes right to do that! Not often, in my experience, but sometimes. Because finding the right balance in the writing is HARD.
- So, what do we do? Seriously, I'm asking. Why do you think I'm drinking on a Sunday? Well, yes, because it's Sunday but yeah.
- Here's what I've discovered on this terrible path of writing layered content with subtext, and you can use what works for you...
- There is the option of simply "kicking the ball downfield" -- writing essentially "this is how we feel when we see this scene play out."
- That spawns description like: "This is the most heartbreaking moment of her life, and we're all in tears at the end of it."
- BAH TO THAT, I SAY. That is my mouth writing checks. That's me saying, "Fuck it, this isn't my job, it's someone else's, I'm outtie."
- We have a responsibility as writers to know what the characters are feeling AND how they both hide and express it in the same moment.
- Not down to the tiniest gesture (because again we're invading the domain of the actor usually) but it has to have more going on than "Here!"
- So the demon I wrestle with is: How much do I need to say on the page that lets the fearful types know the director/actor will rock it?
- This is where the iterative process can actually help a writer.
- There's an episode of The Simpsons where Homer starts to take a bite of Maggie's BD cake, but Marge has made a spare for him to mess up.
- We sometimes have to do that as writers: Build a draft where all the emotions are signposts, and people talk like NOBODY TALKS IN REAL LIFE.
- And then later, before going out to talent, we offer the artful draft full of subtext, the one that will land capable voices.
- Of course to pull this off you need conspirators in the machine. You need a clever producer or junior somewhere.
- Outside of that option, the only one I've made work part of the time is by building a script with subtextual shorthand, for lack of better.
- In that, I preserve the dialogue best I can where all the subtext lives, but I "explain the punchline" in the narrative immediately after.
- This helps a lot since actors are primarily focused on dialogue. Especially those trained from theater. (And those are the ones you want.)
- TANGENT: You do not want an actor whom you often hear "cuts well together." That's not a marathon runner, there.
- By that I mean someone whose performance must be assembled by your Dr Frankenstein editor from a large volume of takes/shots.
- Subtext works really damn well when it's this sandbox you build for the people taking the script from you to produce the thing.
- And! Oh! Sometimes you can paint subtext in negative space. By that I mean, write to what the scene isn't.
- Or you can make bold the juxtaposition of what's being said and what is being felt or meant on the page.
- Like:
JOE
(please stay)
Just get out. Go.
- This kind of dynamic isn't easily swatted by rushed execs trying to understand the purpose of a scene. Usually.
- Point is: We have a lofty goal here of trying to deliver something that works on at least two levels. You know?
- In our writing, what our characters say is not the truth, but it's a map to the truth.
- When people actually say what they feel, it makes them terribly vulnerable. And vulnerability is nearly extinct thanks to the Internet
- So, my gorgeous monsters, let's keep finding and sharing clever ways to deliver subtext in our stories. That shit is tough, man.
Labels: Eric Heisserer, Movies, Screenwriting
posted by Unknown at 7:00 AM
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