American Film Institute

Violence is visited upon protagonist Gittes (Jack Nicholson) in the memorable nose-cutting scene of Chinatown.

The dramatic through-line of a script encompasses the premise and all the obstacles the protagonist will face. A screenplay is like a train on a cross-country trip, with scheduled stops and an estimated arrival time. You don't want to get lost or be late. Every scene should service the journey, and the journey, or through-line, comes out of your premise. In the course of developing your story, you will probably consider different paths for your characters, backtracking and changing directions as needed. When you near the end, however, you should feel that the conclusion you have reached is the only reasonable conclusion possible.

In this scene from the film The Water Ghost, a dream sequence is effectively used to continue Ling's encounter with the Water Ghost, as well as introduce the subplot of the Water Ghost's story into the script.

Putting in the stops
After you've settled on the basic story you want to tell, with a main character, a conflict and a resolution, think about the "stops" or obstacles you want your protagonist to face on the path from the conflict to the resolution. At this point, it's not necessary to figure out every detail of the plot, only the larger movements of the character's struggle.

For example, if the premise of your romantic comedy is "love conquers fear," think about how you want your lovers to meet, what attracts them to each other, what events cause them to break up and how they will be restored to each other. In other words, what events will help you dramatize the conflict? How does the protagonist's fear manifest itself in actions? Dumping at the altar? Promiscuity? Obsessive, obnoxious behavior? And what characters oppose the protagonist? A rival lover? A possessive father? Are the lovers separated by geography, religion or class? What are the stops along the path of your narrative that your protagonist must overcome to resolve the conflict?

The three-act structure
Although there are plenty of fine exceptions, most screenplays employ a three-act structure. Originating in ancient Greek drama, the three-act structure became standard in American theater in the early twentieth century and soon after was adapted for film. Cinematic three-act structure is more fluid than its theatrical cousin, but it still provides the screenwriter with a solid frame on which to build a tight story.

In Act One, characters and conflict are introduced. The conflict deepens in Act Two until it reaches a climax or breaking point. In Act Three, the conflict resolves and leads to a denouement, or conclusion. As a general rule, Act Two is the longest and Act Three the shortest. For example, applying the three-act structure to a two-hour, or 120-page script (one script page is roughly equal to one screen minute), Act One will run about 40 pages; Act Two, 50-60 pages; Act Three, 20-30 pages. Analyzing a screenplay of any length in terms of a three-act structure can be extremely useful.

	Making an outline
	To clarify your structure in your head, you should note plot points, with act breaks, in an outline. The outline can serve as the skeleton upon which you can build all the details of your story. However, as you start writing dialogue for your characters, the story may deviate from what you envisioned in your outline. Such evolution is desirable. You shouldn't feel locked into telling a story devised hypothetically. While it's important to have some idea of where you're going at the start, a script written from an outline alone will likely turn out dry and formulaic.

In many romantic comedies, the three-act structure could be stated simply as "Boy meets girl, boy gets girl (Act One), boy loses girl (Act Two), boy gets girl back (Act Three)." Even though the protagonist wins the girl in Act One, his potential for failure should be evident throughout the act. The perfect love affair will start to unravel in Act Two, as the protagonist's fears and the machinations of the antagonist build. The romance then falls apart, with the antagonist apparently victorious. By the end of Act Two, however, the hero will resolve to win the girl back and defeat his foe. In Act Three, the boy executes his plan and succeeds in restoring the romance.

The story of Gladiator can also be broken down in terms of the three-act structure. Act One introduces Maximus and his conflict--the betrayal by Commodus, his rival for the throne and the man behind the brutal murder of Maximus' family. In Act Two, Maximus is taken into slavery and trains as a gladiator, while quietly planning his revenge. Tension rises as Maximus' slave troupe ends up in Rome, and Maximus becomes involved in a plot to overthrow Commodus. In front of Commodus at the Coliseum, Maximus defeats his opponent, winning the hearts of the Roman people. Commodus, who is about to battle Maximus in the ring, wounds his opponent with a cowardly knife attack. Act Three begins with the to-the-death confrontation. Maximus' moment of decision arrives when he has Commodus at sword-point and chooses to exact his revenge. In the denouement, Maximus dies from his wound, but his family's land is restored.

Sub-plots
Sub-plots contain all the same elements as the main plot--character, conflict and resolution. Although it used to be common to see sub-plots functioning only as comic relief, with little connection to the rest of the story, they now are expected to parallel and advance the main plot. Sub-plots involve secondary characters interacting with the protagonist or the antagonist. One of the sub-plots of Gladiator, for example, is the love story between Maximus and Commodus' sister, Lucilla. The romance has a beginning, middle and end just like the main story, but takes up very little screen time. Because Lucilla becomes involved in Maximus' attempts to overthrow her brother, the love story has a direct effect on the main plot. However, it does not overwhelm it.

Visual storytelling

American Film Institute

Sometimes a great deal of information can be conveyed visually, as in the simple but effective scene in Chinatown, where the freshly-wounded Gittes (Jack Nicholson) appears with a large bandage across his nose.

The adage "actions speak louder than words" applies to all creative writing, but is especially true of screenwriting. While the novelist can convey what the characters are thinking and feeling through an interior monologue, as a screenwriter you must use external visible behavior. External behavior can be expressed through dialogue or physical actions. Plays rely heavily on dialogue because of the limitations of the stage itself, but movies have no such restrictions. The camera can go anywhere the imagination leads it, and moviegoers expect to be visually engaged.

Although it's tempting to tell the audience what's happening through dialogue, showing them through action can have greater rewards. If, for instance, you want to convey that Jackie is upset at Marge for rustling her candy wrapper during a touching moment at the opera, you could have Jackie hiss, "Marge, be quiet!" Certainly that line would get the idea across that Jackie was annoyed, but it would be boring. A more effective way would be to have Jackie snatch the candy out of Marge's hand and toss it over the balcony.

As with the behavior of characters, the time, place and mood of a scene are most effectively conveyed through visuals and described in the script's stage directions (which are always written in present tense, with action verbs). Much like the novelist, the screenwriter situates the characters in a specific environment at the start of each scene. The screenwriter's goal with descriptive passages is not only to indicate where the scene is taking place, but to focus attention on key details that, when translated into the visual elements of a film, will provide viewers with information crucial to the premise. Sometimes these details underscore what is being said by the characters. Other times, they give the reader information about the characters that would otherwise go unexpressed.

An excerpt from It's a Wonderful Life exemplifies this notion:

Even without the words "as pretty as any bride," the reader knows what is going on in this scene. The makeshift table set for two, "The Wedding March" and the pajamas and nightie on the bed tell us George and Mary are newlyweds. Additionally, the spare living room with packing boxes tells us that George and Mary have just moved in and don't own much. Mary's smile and George's appraisal of the set-up suggest happiness. The above passage takes up only a few seconds of screen time, but with essential visual cues the scene conveys a heap of information without dialogue.

	Discussion
	Do you have a premise and characters, but no structure for your story? {Dis: Discuss with others a way to formulate your story with an effective structure.}

When describing a new location, it is not necessary, or desirable, to overload your stage directions with extraneous details. Don't add camera angles. Directors, cinematographers, art directors and set designers are expected to fill out the physical world of the characters for the viewer. In the above example, the screenwriters don't mention what color the wall is, what Mary is wearing, or what brand of champagne the couple is drinking. In another scene, these details might be significant, but not in this one.

Screenwriters should also resist the temptation to over-describe the personalities or backgrounds of their characters in the stage directions. Whenever possible, stick to details that have visual equivalents. For example, the description "a finely dressed man, with facial tics and a pronounced Boston accent" conveys more to the reader than "a nervous millionaire from Boston."