How to Write a Scene for Film
How to Write a Scene for Film
So in order to successfully write a scene for a screenplay, it’s important to remember that less is more. By that, we don’t mean less description is more. We mean that less wording in your description is more.
For example, let’s try describing a scene in which a character enters a hotel room. You may be tempted to describe it as vividly as possible. When writing a script, it’s helpful to also imagine which crew members will be reading the script and what information they will need to bring the script to life.
Example 1:Susie, a 42 year old neurosurgeon from Connecticut, enters her hotel room, which entraps a blue hue that spreads from a ethereal neon glow just two yards from outside the window. She is contemplating the death of her brother, someone she will never see again. Susie says to herself, “I’m driving to Kansas tomorrow.”
This sounds like a pretty descriptive text. You can picture it in your mind, right? The actor, director, and camera and lighting crew have a lot to work with here. But if you were the costume designer, what clothes would you use for this scene? If you were the set designer, what sort of objects would be in the room? How much do they have to work with?
Let’s break it down and format all these details like a script.
Example 2:INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT.SUSIE (42), a Connecticut neurosurgeon, enters a mostly bare HOTEL ROOM. Bible on the dresser. Notepad on the desk. Empty boxes in the corner.Broken, she is dressed in black. When Susie enters the room she places a funeral program down on the table.Outside the window is a NEON BLUE sign.SUSIEI’m driving to Kansas tomorrow.
Writing your scripts like this gives ample descriptions that everybody in production can work with and properly sets the tone for the remainder of the scene. We won’t know unless we’ve seen Susie previously that the funeral program belongs to her brother. But that’s okay. We can learn that later. From here, the director, director of photography, actor, costume designer, art director, and set designer have enough to work with in order to bring the scene to life.
Saying more with less is a skill that can take time and practice to master.
Here are eight keys to writing a scene that pops off the page and grabs the reader.
Writing a scene—especially the big ones at major plot points—usually means adding these eight key principles that move the story forward and keep the reader engaged.
In order to illustrate these eight key principles we’ll be using the scene in Sideways in which Miles and Jack share a drink with Maya at the bar for the first time and Miles says they’re just going back to crash.
We chose this scene to study as it’s fairly dialogue-heavy and doesn’t rely on a heap of action or drama but still demonstrates all eight principles very well.
Re-read the scene from the screenplay, or re-watch it, so you get a better idea of the eight dramatic principles as described. So let’s get started.
Writing a scene key principle #1:
reveal one new piece of key info.
When you’re writing a scene, remember it should only reveal ONE new piece of critical information.
Your scene can reveal several nuances about character or theme of course, but there should be only one overall critical piece of info—the one piece you want the audience to come away with from the scene.
This information is the overall point of the scene—the line that you write in your step outline to describe what happens in it—and everything should revolve around this revelation.
In an outline for Sideways, you might write this particular scene like this: “Later, they meet Maya again at the bar. After some small talk, she asks Miles what they’re up to tonight but he blows it by saying they need to crash.”
The one piece of key information that the screenplay scene demonstrates is that Miles is far from ready to make any kind of move on Maya. Or any woman for that matter.
Writing a scene key principle #2:
give the scene just one goal.
When writing a scene, it should include a goal that relates to the overall objective of the protagonist.
Here, Miles’ scene goal is to remain friendly but not get too close to Maya. He does ask if she wants to come over and join them for a drink, but this is done out of politeness more than anything, and from then on in he lets Jack take over the talking.
Miles’ scene goal relates to his overall goal in that his overall goal is to also remain aloof from female contact. Over the course of the trip he just wants to play golf, relax and drink wine. He has no intention of flirting with Maya.
Writing a scene key principle #3:
give the scene a 3-act structure.
Like the overall movie itself, writing a scene means giving it a 3-Act structure.
It should include a set up, complication, and resolution. This is particularly true of the most important scenes in the story, i.e. the call to action, big event, midpoint etc.
This scene in Sideways adheres to a classic structure as it represents an Act Break. Here are the major beats of the scene:
• Set Up. Miles and Jack are having a drink at the bar.
• Call to Action. Maya enters and Miles calls her over.
• Act 1 Turning Point. Maya asks Jack if he’s an actor and they begin flirting.
• Midpoint. Maya asks them what they’re up to tonight, and Miles says they’re probably going to go “crash.”
• Climax. Maya leaves.
• Denouement. Walking home, Jack berates Miles for screwing it up.
Note how closely this scene structure mirrors conventional 3-Act structure. All it’s missing is the Act 2 turning point as—like in all good scenes—it’s best to get out as quickly as possible once the point of the scene’s been made after the midpoint.
Writing a scene key principle #4:
not every scene needs conflict, but it does need stakes.
It should be a given that each scene should include some sort of conflict and/or stakes.
In the Sideways example, Miles is the protagonist and Jack is the antagonist. Miles’ scene goal is to just be polite and make small talk with Maya. Jack’s scene goal is to ratchet things up a notch by engaging Maya in some flirtatious conversation.
Note how both of their goals relate to the overall scene goal. The clash of these two goals gives the scene its conflict as we see both Miles and Jack reacting to the other’s tactics.
However, don’t fall into the trap of listening to all those so-called screenwriting gurus who say “every scene must contain conflict.” The idea that every scene in a screenplay should be thought of as a battle between a protagonist who wants something and antagonist who wants the opposite, is just false.
When writing a scene it’s better to think of it in terms of what you want to reveal to the audience, rather than as a head-on clash between two or more characters. Here’s a helpful post on how to write a scene that discusses this in more detail.
Writing a scene key principle #5:
include some kind of visual action.
When writing a scene, remember to include some sort of visual action. Scenes are combinations of action and dialogue, and finding the right balance between these two elements is essential to creating a successful scene.
In the Sideways scene, we start with Miles and Jack at the bar. It’s static. But then Maya arrives—an action—and then joins them—an action—and leaves—another action.
The scene could have opened and closed with all three of them sitting at the bar, but adding Maya’s entrance, then joining Miles and Jack at the bar, then the shot of them walking home, gives this dialogue-heavy scene some needed visuals.
How to write a scene principle #6:
give a character one true choice to make.
Each screenplay scene should include one true choice, by which we mean a moral choice between two goods, or between two evils.
Dustin Hoffman has commented he will only make a film if his character has at least 40 choice points. A scene can contain many small choices but, like with the revealing of information in Principle #1, it must contain one critical choice that propels the story forward. This usually happens at the climax of the scene.
In this case, the major choice Miles makes is, of course, when he says they’re going to just go back to the hotel and crash. This decision comes at the climax to the scene and is also the major decision he makes near the end of Act 1, propelling Jack in the next scene to declare he’s not going to let Miles’ “neg-head downer shit” stop him from getting laid.
Writing a scene principle #7: make sure there’s a reversal of values.
Writing a scene means including some sort of change, or reversal of values. In other words, if a scene starts on a positive charge it should end on a negative charge and vice versa. By the end of the scene, the protagonist must have an understanding of this change.
So, in our example, the scene starts on a positive charge when Miles calls Maya over to join them at the bar. Note how Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor make it Miles and not Jack who calls her over.
This is because if Miles does it, it’s an even more positive charge than if Jack did it. i.e. we’re thinking that maybe Miles is not so uptight after all.
The scene ends on a negative charge when Miles destroys the chance to hang out that night with Maya, and he is made fully aware of this change—and mistake—by Jack’s remonstrations.
How to write a scene principle #8:
advance the story, characters and theme.
Ideally, each scene in your screenplay should advance the plot, character, and theme of the overall story.
In this scene, the plot is advanced by Jack planting the lie that they’re celebrating the publication of Miles’ book—a lie that will have serious repercussions later. We also now know Maya is single and available.
Miles and Jack’s characters are both advanced because we get a better idea of their mindsets: Miles wants to stay aloof, Jack wants to party and is ready to lie, making his friend appear to be a success.
We learn through exposition that Jack’s acting career is not going too well and he is now relying primarily on voiceover work.
The theme of the film is that emotional maturity is necessary for a truly happy relationship. Maya represents emotional maturity, but the flip side of this—emotional immaturity—is expressed by both Miles and Jack.
All three characters display these traits in this scene.
Maya is emotionally mature and is ready to meet someone new—someone like Miles. Miles, however, shows his emotional immaturity by not being able to move past small talk with Maya.
Jack, meanwhile, displays his emotional immaturity by lying to Maya about Miles’ book and by flirting with her when he’s engaged.
Conclusion.
Rather than using this checklist as a starting point before writing a scene, we recommend you write the scene first and then refer back to the list in order to tighten it up.
Use this eight-point checklist once you have a draft of the scene and then go back in order to make sure the scene protagonist makes a true choice, there’s a reversal of values and something at stake, etc.
How to write a scene
One of the thing I admire most about Jane Espenson’s blog is that she talks very directly about the words on the page, giving names to techniques I use but never really think about. The two-percenter, for example.
So one of my goals for 2007 is to get a little more granular in my advice-giving, and talk less about Screenwriting and more about screenwriting — in particular, scene writing.
Spend a few years as a screenwriter, and writing a scene becomes an almost unconscious process. It’s like driving a car. Most of us don’t think about the ignition and the pedals and the turn signals — but we used to, back when we were learning. It used to flummox the hell out of us. Every intersection was unbelievably stressful, with worries of stalling the car and/or killing everyone on board.
It’s the same with writing a scene. The first few are brutal and clumsy. But once you’ve written (and rewritten) say, 500 scenes, the individual steps sort of vanish. But they’re still there, under the surface. It’s just that your instinct is making a lot of the decisions your conscious brain used to handle.
So here’s my attempt to introspect and describe what I’m doing that I’m not even aware I’m doing. Here’s How to Write a Scene.
1. Ask: What needs to happen in this scene?
Many screenwriting books will tell you to focus on what the characters want. This is wrong. The characters are not responsible for the story. You are. If characters were allowed to control their scenes, most characters would chose to avoid conflict, and movies would be crushingly boring.
The question is not, “What could happen?” or “What should happen?” It is only, “What needs to happen?” If you wrote an outline, this is the time to look at it.1 If you didn’t, just come up one or two sentences that explain what absolutely must happen in the scene.
2. Ask: What’s the worst that would happen if this scene were omitted?
Imagine the projectionist screwed up and accidentally lopped off this scene. Would the movie still make sense? If the answer is “yes,” then you don’t really need the scene, and shouldn’t bother writing it.
But it’s so dramatic! you say. But it’s so funny!
Tough. Put that drama or that comedy into scenes that are crucial to the movie.2 One thing you learn after a few produced movies is that anything that can be cut will be cut, so put your best material into moments that will absolutely be there when it’s done.
3. Ask: Who needs to be in the scene?
Scripts are often clogged with characters who have no business being there. But because words are small, it’s easy to overlook that “Haversmith” hasn’t said or done anything for five pages. And sadly, sometimes that’s not realized until after filming.3
4. Ask: Where could the scene take place?
The most obvious setting for a scene is generally the least interesting, so don’t be too quick to set your scene in the police bullpen, a living room, or a parking garage. Always consider what the characters could be doing, even if it’s not directly related to the focus of the scene. A father-and-son bonding moment at a slaughter house will play differently than the same dialogue at a lawn bowling tournament.
5. Ask: What’s the most surprising thing that could happen in the scene?
Give yourself permission to step away from your outline and consider some wild possibilities. What if a car smashed through the wall? What if your hero choked and died? What if a young boy vomited up a finger?
Most of your scenes won’t have one of these out-of-nowhere aspects. But your movie needs to have a few moments that are completely unexpected, so always ask yourself, could this be one of them?
6. Ask: Is this a long scene or a short scene?
There’s nothing so dispiriting as writing a great three-page mega-scene and realizing that you could have accomplished just as much in two-eighths of a page.4 So ask yourself up front: How much screen time am I willing to give to this scene?
7. Brainstorm three different ways it could begin.
The classic advice is to come into a scene as late as you possibly can. Of course, to do that, you really need to know how the previous scene ended. There’s often a natural momentum that suggests what first image or line of dialogue would be perfect to open the scene. But don’t stop at the first option. Find a couple, then…
8. Play it on the screen in your head.
At least 50% of screenwriting is simply sitting there with your eyes closed, watching the unwritten scene loop in your head. The first couple of times through, it’s really rough: a blocking rehearsal. But eventually, you start to hear the characters talk to each other, and the vague motions become distinct actions. Don’t worry if you can’t always get the scene to play through to the end — you’re more likely to find the exit in the writing than in the imagining.
Don’t rush this step. Let the scene percolate. Mumble the dialogue. Immerse yourself as fully into the moment as you can.
9. Write a scribble version.
A “scribble version” is essentially a cheat sheet so you’ll remember the great scene you just saw in your head. Don’t write sentences; don’t write full dialogue. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes. Just get the bare minimum down so that you won’t forget the scene in the next hour as you’re writing it.
I generally hand-write a scribble version in tiny print — sometimes literally on the back of an envelope — but you can also type. This is what a scribble version consists of for me:
- DUNCAN waiting edge of seat
- ITO
- I was one of the doctors who worked on your wife
- accident
- injuries severe, trauma team, sorry, couldn’t save her
- (sits, reflex)
- nature of injuries, concern fetus wouldn’t survive in utero. paramedic able deliver caesarian boy healthy
- (nodding not hearing)
- nurse can take you to see him, know a lot to handle
- what
- a lot to handle
- take me to see him?
- yes
- see who?
- your son. paramedic was able to
- (grabs clipboard)
- I know this may seem
- My wife wasn’t pregnant
- Your wife didn’t tell you…
- My wife has never been pregnant. been trying three years. fertility clinic last week
- I examined the baby myself. nearly at term.
- I don’t know whose baby, not hers.
It’s kind of a mess, and really wouldn’t make sense to anyone but me — and only shortly after I wrote it. But that doesn’t matter. The scribble version is only there so you don’t get lost or confused while writing the full version of the scene. Yes, it’s finally time to…
10. Write the full scene.
If you typed up the scribble version, don’t just try to fatten it out. Start clean. The scribble version is deliberately crappy, and rewritten crap is still crap.
The scribble version is your outline for the scene. Yes, allow yourself the chance to detour from your scribble version if a truly better idea comes along. But if you’ve really spent the time to play it through in your head (#8), it’s probably on the right track already.
Depending on the nature of the scene, getting the dialogue right may be most of the work. Regardless, focus on choosing the best words to describe the characters, the action and tone, so your readers will see the same scene in their heads.
11. Repeat 200 times.
- I’m neither pro nor anti-outline. They can be a useful way of figuring out how the pieces might fit together. They’re nearly essential in television, where many minds need to coordinate. But sticking too closely to an outline is dangerous. It’s like following Google Maps when it tells you to take Wilshire. ↩
- Do my own scripts hold up to this (admittedly harsh) standard? Yes, largely, but feel free to correct me where you disagree. Big Fish has quite a few meanders and detours, but that’s very much on-topic — it’s the reason the son is so frustrated. ↩
- As an example: Kal Penn in Superman Returns. He’s basically an extra. ↩
- Scenes are measured in eighths. You really do say two-eighths, not one-quarter. ↩
What are the best and most effective ways to write cinematic scene description that keeps the reader invested, engaged, and lost in the visuals of your movie?
The four basic elements of screenwriting format are scene heading, scene description, character name, and dialogue. Anything else — camera directions, transitions, and parentheticals — rarely do anything beyond creating more for the reader to read and process, which slows down the read of the script. Those elements can be utilized, but only sparingly so and only when completely necessary.
Scene headings are simple. They consist of three elements — interior or exterior, location, and day or night (with some variations).
Read ScreenCraft’s Screenwriting Basics: The Keys to Writing Correct Scene Headings!
Character names are obvious. Dialogue is fairly straightforward.
But it’s scene description that truly holds the key to the success of your screenplay, specifically from the standpoint of how easy it is for the reader to truly experience your story in cinematic fashion. You want the reader to be able to decipher the visuals you are describing in your scene description as quickly as possible — as if they were reels of film flashing before their eyes.
Sadly, most novice screenwriters fail to understand the importance of writing cinematically. Instead, they either focus on directing the camera or go into specific detail with long-winded scene description.
Here are five best practices to help you write effective scene description that will make your screenplays become the coveted page-turners that script readers crave for.
1. Less Is More
Your job is very simple as a screenwriter — convey what the reader is supposed to envision in broad stroke form, and do so as quickly as possible.
You’re not writing a novel. You’re not using the scene description to go into specific detail about the sets, the locations, the character’s wardrobe, each and every movement, etc.
The fewer words you use to describe a visual the better. That’s how cinematic screenplays are born. A reader would rather read a conventional screenplay that reads in a way where they feel they watching a movie, as opposed to a more original screenplay that feels that they’re reading a long novel. The best thing you can do as a screenwriter is offer them that latter content partnered with a cinematic read.
Anyone can write a long, multi-paragraph description of a setting or action sequence where you articulate descriptive sights, sounds, and atmosphere — and then put together poetic descriptions of each of those details.
In a screenplay, there’s no room for that type of writing. Readers don’t care. You instead need to embrace the art of compressed imagery where you eliminate those elongated elements from your prose and get to the point so the reader can see that visual and move onto the next as quickly as possible.
To master compressed imagery, you have to learn how to whittle everything down to the core. And when you think you’ve accomplished that, whittle it down even more.
Here’s an example.
This scene description block isn’t the worst we’ve seen by any means. Two sentences in one block and one long sentence in another. A lesser writer would have used another paragraph to go further into detail, trying to capture some sort of particular atmosphere for what is basically one image for the reader to visualize.
However, take a look at this whittled-down version.
If you compare the two, they both are describing the same visual. The second example just gets to the point without poetic detail.
Sure, that rewrite would only save you a couple of lines within your script, but if you embrace this Less Is More mantra and apply that to each and every line of scene description in your script, the difference will be substantial.
And the most important aspect will be describing each visual quickly enough where the reader can process it at lightning speed. Hence, you’ll be offering them more effective scene description.
But that’s not all you can do.
2. Create a Rhythm for Your Scene Description
A block of scene description refers to the amount of “ink” used before a blank space. It could be just one sentence, two, three, four, or (hopefully not) more.
The first scene example above had two blocks of scene description.
The problem many screenwriters have is that their blocks of scene description are often very thick and long. They pack multiple visuals into one single block of scene description. This drastically slows the read down. Here’s how you can fix that.
Think of each block of scene description as a visual that you are throwing at the reader.
This is what I want you to see.
Now you see this.
Now this happens.
If you pay attention to how those three sentences read, you’ll notice that there’s a beat to that.
Boom Bada.
Boom Bada.
Boom.
When you have visuals crammed together in long paragraphs, the reader’s brain interprets that block differently, despite the same description being used.
This is what I want you to see. Now you see this. Now this happens.
When those three sentences are separated into their own short blocks of scene description, they create a rhythm. When they are garbled together into one block of scene description that consists of three back-to-back sentences, the rhythm is lost.
It reads more like Boombadaboombadaboom.
Do you see the difference? Read those different examples over and over again, and you’ll begin to understand that screenplays have a rhythm to them. A script that embraces the Less Is More mantra and spaces out those blocks of scene description is easier to read and offers a more cinematic experience.
Anytime you have big blocks of scene description with multiple sentences bunched together, space them out. Let each block be a single visual that you are throwing at the reader and do your best to keep each block at no more than two sentences.
And yes, fragments are very welcome.
3. Use Scene Description for Times, Dates, and Specific Locations
Scene description is all about setting the stage. Part of that is sharing the specific times, dates, and locations if necessary.
Many screenwriters make the mistake of including that information within the scene heading.
Readers have trained themselves through the format to pay less attention to the scene heading — because it’s very easy to read INT. LOCATION – DAY — and more time on the scene description. So if you’re trying to convey specific times, dates, and locations, you want to utilize the scene description to accomplish that so nothing is missed or forgotten.
Below are examples of elements that should not be in scene headings.
Instead, you want to share those dates within the first line of the scene description after the heading.
If the dates are meant to be seen onscreen by the audience, you have to use the scene description anyways.
It may seem like a very small detail, but it matters. Scene description sets the stage. Use it for those important details.
4. Delete All Camera Direction
Too many screenwriters feel the need to direct the camera within their scene description.
They likely believe that writing a cinematic screenplay entails showcasing stylistic camera angles and movements, but nothing could be further from the truth.
For the reader, it’s very distracting. It often slows the read down to a halt as they try to interpret the camera directions.
Beyond that, the eventual director and cinematographer are going to do what they want anyway, so there’s no need to call for specific angles, movements, and shots.
At times, it’s okay to do so. But only if such directions — like a closeup or pan that reveals something — are partial to the story. Beyond that, it’s best to just give the reader the basic details and let their own imagination and visualization fill in the holes.
5. Avoid Specific Soundtrack References
We know that you want to set the stage and create an atmosphere. Music does play a big part in the final cut of any film. However, screenwriters can often fall into unseens traps when they begin to dictate exactly what songs are to be played and heard during specific moments within the script.
First off, the screenwriter cannot dictate what songs will be available for the eventual filmmakers and studio. Soundtracks cost money. And most of the time, studios are signed to specific music labels. Or the budget of the film may not be enough to include that classic or current hit. Or the artist or label may not want to attach their song to your movie.
Secondly, what happens if the reader doesn’t know the song that you are referring to? Anytime that you’re referencing a specific song within a script, you’re telling the reader that this is partial to the story. If it’s not, it’s a waste of space, and you’re doing someone else’s job. If it is partial to the story, and they don’t know the song, there’s an instant disconnect.
It’s better to merely dictate the genre of the music that you feel should accompany the scene.
Instead of writing The House of the Rising Sun by The Animals plays, consider writing Classic 60s rock plays.
Bonus Tip — Use CAPS and Sluglines, but Sparingly
A common misconception is that a slugline is another name for the scene heading. Sluglines are instances within the scene description where you use CAPS to identify information that you want to call attention to.
Some writers overuse these. Others don’t use them at all.
Sluglines and action elements written in CAPS are effective ways to call attention to the surprising — or important — visuals within your scenes. There is no rule as far as how much or how little you should use them, but the best thing you can do as a screenwriter is use them only when necessary. Some scenes may call for more than others. Other scenes may not need them at all. Use your best discretion.
Yes, rules are meant to be broken. Understand that these are just guidelines to follow through a majority of your screenwriting. If you want to break or bend them every now and then, go for it. Just make sure that you do so few and far between.
Sometimes you need to write a longer and more detailed block of scene description.
Sometimes you need to group separate visual descriptions together in one block to save space or pair them up.
Sometimes you forget to delete that time, date, or specific location from your scene headings.
Sometimes you need to have a little camera direction to reveal something.
Sometimes you need to reference a specific song if it’s partial to the story.
But if you apply these five guidelines to help you write more effective scene description and better the read of your script, the reader will appreciate it. And those readers aren’t just interns and assistants. They are also managers, agents, development executives, producers, directors, and talent — the people that can make or break your career.
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