Josh Schaer
(Jericho)March 9, 2009: Josh Schaer
Wait a second--Julian McMann turns out to be a highly sophisticated computer-boy and THIS is where you choose to leave off for the week? I'm going to have to schedule a call with this week's winner just to see what happens next.

Actually, I'm semi-serious: I love the twist that Julian is basically a Johnny Five reboot and not a flesh-and-blood contact/savior for our heroes. Great stuff. BUT (and you knew there was a but) it's important to remember that each twist and turn we choose to write, particularly at this early stage of Act Two, shouldn't chew up future story. As written there are only 11 pages between Harry Walters saying that Julian McMann is the answer to all our prayers and our heroes finding out he's not going to be able to physically help them do anything. The twist could have been more interesting if: A) our heroes were made to search for him a little longer, B) there were a few detours in their path to finding him, C) the name Julian McMann was allowed to float around as our heroes' potential savior until the moment in the middle of Act Two where not just the Obsidian/Conquest plot but Jonas/Nora/Freddie's lives hinge on finding him, or D) all of the above. Then, when we learn the truth about Julian it takes things in a whole new direction.

I always like to think of Act Two as the part of the movie that your audience is coming to see. [SPECIAL NOTE: I may have heard a famous screenwriter or well-established author of screenwriting books say this, and somewhere along the line I just adopted it. I do that.] These days, most of our viewers know the premise (and oftentimes the main character) of the films they're viewing before they step into the theater. And we establish all that stuff in our Act One set-up. The first 20 minutes is all: "Here's what's happening, and here's who it's about to happen to." Then Act One wraps up, and (with any luck) it’s: "Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle, the part where you already knew what to expect has just come to an end.” Now comes the part where the audience decides if your movie kicks ass, or if they can devise an excuse to leave the theater early and still get their money back.

Now, the instinct is to Bring The Awesome right away, and I get that, but really the best thing to do here is Let Things Breathe. I’m referencing our favorite Untitled High School Spy Movie as well as any other script you write in the future. The set-up is over and now we have to take the chess pieces we’ve already introduced and move them around the board. If the next ten pages must come without any major twists, then so be it. Build on what we have, it’s a solid foundation for a story. What comes next? The Story.

Which leads me to this point: When writing I think you should always have an outline, or at the very least a mental plan, of where the story is headed. Allow me a small detour as I get to my point:

In episodic television, full hour-long scripts tend to get written in just a few days, because things get rushed. Then things are re-written (things are always re-written, fine-tuned) in the wee hours the day before they’re shot, or on set, right before a take. (Then they’re re-written again in the editing room, but that’s a story for another day.) But before the episode is written in that mad redbull-infused dash to beat a deadline, writers (and full writing staffs) spend weeks or even months outlining the episode. The outline changes a million times, is re-written from scratch and re-written again so that, once the script is printed out and distributed, the changes will be cosmetic, and not structural. A line here, a line there, but not “I’m not sure this character should die in this scene”, when said character’s death inspires the hero to overcome all obstacles and win in the end. The lesson I learned and will follow for the rest of my writing career is this: Never write a script without an outline. The more detailed, the better. Following this lesson will make your writing careers and maybe your whole lives (!) much easier, I promise.

So, where DOES the story go from robot-Julian? Will Julian McMann be involved for the duration (or maybe just be a device we use at an important yet unexpected moment toward the end of the script), or is finding this out a huge let down for Jonas, who must now carry the entire mission on his narrow shoulders? No matter what, we must return to and focus on our core story elements as we move forward: the characters you've all established to this point, the budding high school romance we all wish we had, the chase/race for the Obsidian Bar, and the Good vs. Bad of it all. That’s what the audience paid their money to see.

In closing, I thought the twist rocked. When the script gets re-written, my prediction is that the robot-boy revelation will get moved to the middle, but I could be wrong. If we outlined this script from the beginning to the end, we would have smoothed out the kinks before this point. As the contest continues, I urge you all to have an idea for where you’re aiming the script, long-term as you take (and turn) the wheel.

I’m impressed so far, particularly with the level of imagination you’ve all shown. Structuring a script is difficult to begin with, now we’re asking you to do it blindfolded, so to speak, so keep plugging away. Like I said at the start—I can’t wait to see where it goes from here.

VIEW ALL BLOGS