Tag Archives: struggle

Software Reivews

Save the Cat! Story Structure Software 3.0 Review

Leave a comment

For the present day screenwriter, the notion of a writing workflow devoid of software has gone the way of, well, the typewriter. Not only is a screenwriting application absolutely vital to proper formatting of the script itself (only a crazy person would type it out on a standard word processor and manually tab, indent, and capitalize to fit industry standards), but there are software suites available for practically every component of the process; outlining, plotting, word-smithing, character profiling, location visualization, you name it. Each of these steps can be ironed out more smoothly and efficiently with the aid of a specialized program as a guide or assistant. Of course one of the most important and challenging bumps in the road from idea to movie is story structure. In this area, many of us can use all the help we can get. It would be great to have a software program to organize, plan, strategize, and map out our structure in a clean and orderly way. Enter Save the Cat! Story Structure Software 3.0.

Let’s get this out of the way first thing. Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat! books are the subject of some controversy in the screenwriting world. Some find STC’s accessible and grounded approach of applying proven story principles derived by reverse engineering some highly successful blockbusters to be extremely useful. Others call it rote, overly-formulaic, and stifling in its rigid “rules” of screenplay construction. Regardless of where you stand on this, the STC Story Structure Software is a truly modular tool that can provide some monumentally time-saving hacks in getting you to your destination, wherever that may be. How rigidly you stick to the method and philosophy detailed in the STC books is entirely up to you. This program is a great boon to anyone, including those who choose to abandon Snyder’s approach altogether.

The only “mandatory steps of the process” are the first few, which involve filling in a title, logline (for which templates are available), genre (which is an interesting classification unique to STC, not your typical genre labels), and approximate page count. These can be quite helpful to start on the right foot, or they can simply be fudged for later modification, and then you’re off to the races…

There is also an outlining, or “beats” area, which many find a helpful starting point. In addition to listing the beats, you can produce, edit, and update catalogs of characters, locations, setups, and payoffs. You can easily toggle between these lists for referencing, rearranging, troubleshooting, or whatever you need to do.

The main thrust of the software is that it serves as a digital means to plot out your script on a set of virtual index cards laid out in the “board area.” This practice was first made famous in Syd Field‘s Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, and while I agree that there’s no substitute for real, physical cards, their editable electronic counterpart is a welcome supplement. There are a number of valuable features added to the layout here. Each card is an interface that can be marked with various story devices, such as the emotional arc of the scene, setup and payoff bridges between scenes or sequences, and which plot (A,B,C, etc.) is served by the particular card. This all allows some hyper-meticulous plot planning, if that’s your thing.

We all know that the writing process entails “killing our darlings,” or removing anything that doesn’t serve the story, even if we’d rather not do so. For all of those elements that we know we should cut, but see some chance for their resurrection in a different form or maybe a different scene later on, there’s the “Litter Box.” Here you can temporarily discard scene cards, while keeping track of where they came from in the structure. Simply drag and drop them in.

If you can’t wait any more, and those perfectly planned-out scenes are screaming to get out of you, there is a script window, complete with sluglines generated from the scene headings courtesy of the cards on your board, where you can begin to write the screenplay itself, and at any time you can export it to Final Draft and continue there. The downside here is that the formatting, while not completely manual, isn’t quite as automated as in Final Draft or other screenwriting programs. It takes a bit more work on your part to keep it straight (lots of pressing “tab.”) If that works for you, have at it!

Now we come to the window where I’ve admittedly spent most of my time; the general notes section. This is simply a digital free-hand bulletin board where you can place infinite, color-coded, virtual post-its to organize your thoughts, store referential materials, and basically pour your subjective process out onto the interface in whatever fashion you choose. External files in nearly any multimedia format can be attached here, and linked to scene cards in the board to customize a story logic web, attach research data to your outline, or just keep yourself on track with simple self-generated reminders. It also includes a “Greenlight Checklist,” formulated by Snyder in Save the Cat!® Strikes Back: More Trouble for Screenwriters to Get into … and Out of, of factors that he deemed important waypoints in the story. You can refer to it or not, but it’s there!

And there you have it, folks. These are the main features of Save the Cat! Story Structure Software 3.0. Some of the big-picture features include the option to backup and retrieve from the Save the Cat! online storage cloud for use on multiple devices, a special function to send and retrieve it from your iPhone version of the app, and the ability to import from and export to Final Draft.

I have found this program hugely helpful in my writing process, and it’s always open in the background as I’m banging away on my script. It’s what I look to in order to stay on course, and where I log my progress, sticking points, and session agendas. One minor gripe is that it’s not the most intuitive software I’ve ever used, and took some getting used to in terms of usability. But, beyond that point, it’s been a key contributor to my process. Regardless of your method or objectives, I believe it can be the same for you.

Screenwriting Issue of the Day

The Rewrite Workflow Labyrinth

Leave a comment

First, the good news: I’ve reached a magical milestone in my rewrite. I’ve completed a draft that, if a deadline were imposed on me today, I could submit without utter shame and embarrassment (only predominant shame and embarrassment).

This comes after a protracted slog to align the plot of my story to the point where a reader could get from Fade In to Fade Out, and and have a fairly clear sense of what had happened. The disposable henchmen have consistent names and actions despite their relative unimportance, the events of one scene don’t obviously counteract or undermine those of a previous one, the payoffs are more or less set up and vice versa, and the main characters are somehow different at the end than they were in the beginning as a result of what’s happened to them. (Of course, this is according to my own judgement of my own work. Am I right? That’s for the next guy to decide in the upcoming phase: getting external feedback.)

As I reach this point of the game, a lesson emerges that I believe will be of extreme importance to my career: How could I have gotten here sooner? What if I were on, say, a realistic professional screenwriting timeline? I’d need to come to these answers and solutions that I’ve pored over for months and months in a matter of weeks.

My process thus far has worked like this: write a draft, find a problem, brainstorm some solutions, mull it over, do other stuff while continuing to mull it over, brainstorm some more solutions, get inspired, rewrite the scene. Now, this has been a wonderful experience of exploring and cultivating my creative inspiration, but it’s not gonna cut in a business of strict, merciless deadlines. So…

This is the tough part when it comes to formulating some kind of regular streamlined system for working out these issues: it seems to be a highly subjective element. I’ve delved into many writing books and a few courses, and I’m afraid the magic bullet isn’t in there. While they do an awesome job getting us acquainted with structure, theme, characters, and all the stuff that makes up the initial steps of deciding what to write, banging out the first draft, and some very broad-stroke rewrite guidelines, they don’t quite get us to where we can confidently and consistently tackle and eliminate more intricate story problems with ease. I think the reason for this is that there is no magic bullet. There are likely as many workable processes for this as there are professional writers.

However, there’s more good news, maybe. I have no doubt I’ll be faster on my next script purely from some lessons learned on this one, even if I didn’t change anything about my process. Ironically, it seems that it’ll just take time and patience to get faster. But more importantly, perhaps the mere identification of this as a screenwriting puzzle to solve is a crucial first step. This awareness and the desire to work out an efficient scheme to put out the best material I can in short order should put me on the right track to improve this facet of my writing. After all, what else can I do about it?

How about you? What’s your rewriting system? What’s the big, obvious answer that I’m missing? Let me know below!

Screenwriting Issue of the Day

Too Many Steps?

Leave a comment

A movie is a story, and a story is a journey, right? We (usually) want to relate to a hero on a quest to accomplish something. We want to see the struggles, the triumphs, the defeats, the

levities, the tragedies, and the breakthroughs that befall our hero along every step of the odyssey. Well, surely not every step. And here

in lies today’s issue…

Am I including too many incremental nudges toward

the end game, and bogging down my plot?

There’s a fine line between showing what’s necessary, so as not to leave logic gaps and have the audience scratching their collective head, wondering how point A lead to this point C, without the necessary point B (and maybe also wondering why bother to continue reading/ watching); and slogging through mindless and unessential details, painstakingly and pitifully trying to address every last doubt about the story’s logical credibility and plead with the audience, “It all makes sense, I promise! Please like me, and my story!”

I’m just not sure where that line is…

Do we need to see the discovery, analysis, and follow-up of EVERY single clue in the course of the investigation?  Surely some can be implied, or presented in retrospective dialog (without being overly-expository, of course), but which ones? Where’s that threshold of relevance that tells me if it should be shown or referenced?

I’m going through my scenes, and attempting to elevate the drama in each of them to ensure that every moment matters, and I can’t help but question whether a few of them should just go. I know some schools of thought say that as soon as the question enters your mind, cut it; but I’m not so sure my instincts are honed to that level.

On this pass, my emphasis will be on making sure something (somewhat) vital is introduced into the story at each turn that we actually see (read). And, for now, I’m pretty much leaving it all in, because…

This puppy is almost ready for another set of eyes to scour it for faults. I’ll be trusting in that step to solve some of the aforementioned riddles. I’m just hoping for some sweet, sweet consistency in the notes, particularly about issues like this one. If three people are telling me that we don’t need to see the helpful rent-a-car clerk expounding that one suspicious transaction, then I’ll have my answer.

Anyway, your thoughts? Let me know below!

Movie Reviews

The Magnificent Seven Review: Who Are These Guys, Anyway?

Leave a comment

(Spoiler-free, until otherwise indicated.)

Well, let’s get this out of the way first; I’m a massive fan of Kurosawa’s original telling of this story in 1954, The Seven Samurai, and I think the first Magnificent Seven in 1960 is a clinical case study of how to modernize, remake, and refashion a great story for an expanded audience by preserving its potency and seamlessly adding some new qualities that make it a triumph in its own right.

In case you’re unfamiliar with this tale (I’ll reserve judgment), it centers on a rag-tag group of skilled but hapless gunfighters who agree to take on a long-shot mission to protect a poor village of defenseless peasants against a vicious criminal and his army of gunmen.

Upon hearing of this remake, I was beyond excited, for some very specific reasons. These days, remakes are spewing out of the studios like so many bodily secretions, but without the same fulfillment of an actual purpose. BUT, I arrived at the IMDB page of this announced production by scouring the upcoming projects of one Nic Pizzolatto, writer of True Detective: Season 1, one of the most incredibly-written, and virtuosically executed works ever produced. (Let’s not talk about Season 2.)

As the months tick by, I find out that the cast will be lead by Denzel Washington, reunited with director Antoine Fuqua and co-star Ethan Hawke from Training Day, along with Korean superstar Byung-hun Lee, Vincent D’Onofrio, Chris Pratt, the list goes on. Well, needless to say, I was over the moon. Let’s run through the inventory of gear this film was packing to make it great: a fantastic writer, a super-cool director, a killer cast, and a proven concept that had already been pulled off to perfection, twice! Was there finally going to be a movie in the theater that would be worth the price of admission?!

Then that first trailer hit…

I knew right away something wasn’t right. I can tell you the exact moment my dreams were shattered. It was Chris Pratt’s line, “God dangit, I’m good!” Ugh. We all know that one line of dialog, that is deemed to be trailer-worthy, can tell you volumes about a movie. This one belongs in such fare as The Expendables, or some other action romp that substitutes cornball quips for genuine character relationships and organic chemistry.

Aside from that, it looked really, really actiony, which… fair enough… it does all boil down to an epic throw-down between seven gunfighters and an army of bad guys. BUT… the flashy acrobatics and intricate choreography is more reminiscent of John Woo in his heyday, or the latest Fast and/ or Furious installment, than any of the greats in its own genre. (During the movie, it really bothered me that, in this world, it seems to be utterly impossible to re-holster a revolver without twirling it first.) These factors in that first peek were enough to shake my excitement. My expectations dropped through the floor.

So, how about what actually counts: the movie?  Well, surprisingly, it’s nearly the best case scenario…

I say ‘nearly,’ because best-case would’ve been that all that stuff in the trailer was entirely misleading and absent from the final film, leaving a rough and gritty Western about the bonds that form between warriors who have reached the limits of their ethical nihilism and unite for a common moral purpose, along with some stuff about redemption and revenge.

While I didn’t get that, I did enjoy it much more than expected, especially after the trailer and a pretty dismal first impression…

It opens with a display of cruelty by the villain against the town of sheepish innocents, that’s so hackneyed, clichéd and nauseatingly predictable, you could almost act it out right along with them.

But things look up after that and it plays out quite as expected. It’s a fun, action-packed ride with many enjoyable and satisfying moments, some low points that are nearly cringe-worthy, and not a lot of depth.

And that brings us to the real problem with the piece. This is where the original(s) truly shined, and what really left me wanting with this one: I didn’t get to know the Magnificent Seven.

This is a group of extraordinary men whose characters are defined by the decision, by each of them, to throw off a carefree frontier life and commit to a suicide mission. Why would they do that? What would change their minds? These questions are the real reason to watch this movie, and they’re mostly glossed-over in short exchanges of a few lines that end with the new recruit uttering “Okay, sure.” I need more than that to care about these guys when the bullets start flying.

Now, balancing this necessary proportion of character development between seven people in a 2-hour (+) movie is no easy task, but, as mentioned, there’s more than sufficient precedent showing it can be done!

(Spoilers ahead)

Of course, all seven guys don’t make it out alive. This type of story necessitates that they don’t. It’s a tale of self-sacrifice for an altruistic cause, or the ultimate test of one’s combative skills, however the individual character sees it. (The fact that we’re not sure which way most of them felt highlights the problem.)

In the original Seven, when the likes of Charles Bronson and James Coburn start getting picked off, I genuinely felt sad, because I’d learned enough about each of to have an emotional stake in their survival.

In this one, even the death of Ethan Hawke, the most fleshed-out among them other than Denzel, did nothing to me. So there was no chance of feeling anything when Vincent D’Onofrio, Chris Pratt, or Byung-hun Lee buy it.

(End of spoilers)

So, there you have it. Worth seeing? Sure. Will it meet the expectations of genre fans? No way. And with everything it had going for it, there’s no excuse for it not being an instant classic.