Blake Snyder

I’m getting deja vu all over again… wait, didn’t I just say that?

I’m having flashbacks to perhaps the best summer of my life, 1989. Then as now, the WGA writer’s strike had just ended, I was hot on the trail of figuring out how I would go on to sell a big spec that fall, and I was excitedly looking forward to seeing Batman. The more things change, the more they… now I remember!

That summer, 1989, the crowd for Tim Burton’s Batman was huge, and when the lights came down and the hoots began in my local theater (a beaut of a movie palace called The Arlington in Santa Barbara, California that I talk about in Cat! 2), I felt “a part of” an industry that was booming. I’ll never forget that moment.

Like you I anticipate that same chill sitting and watching the latest Batman installment this summer, which looks to be the greatest opening ever, and as before, signals a very healthy business sector. In a time of uncertainty in many industries, the entertainment business is robust… and looking for new ideas. This summer we’ve had two films crack the $300 million dollar mark — Indiana Jones and Ironman — and these have made the several $100 million dollar hits seem like they’re just doing okay. 300 is the new 100. The new measure of success, the bottom rung of ringing in a certified hit has been raised.  And so has ours.

But it also signals the same thing it did for me in 1989… “they” have plenty of money to buy my script!

Yes, there have been setbacks, such as the recent pullout of financing for Paramount’s slate of films; we’ve also been troubled by an actor’s strike that is still not settled. But overall, all over the world, we want to be entertained. And those that can figure out how to draw big crowds into theaters will never stop working.

I love the business of creativity, because whether we are screenwriters, novelists, advertising copywriters and marketers, or even politicians (all readers of this blog, and all with a vested interest in telling a better story), the creative challenge we face every day never ceases to fascinate. And in particular I love being part of a film industry that’s always trying to reinvent itself, find new talent, and bring it into the fold of the greatest entertainment engine ever invented. Whether we begin with a franchise and try to give it a new spin, or start from scratch with our own endeavors, it’s a business that’s always looking for the next hit.

And we are the ones who can provide it.

The business of  communication is constantly evolving and growing; new means of getting our ideas out there such as IMAX — to the giant side — or YouTube —  to the minute — are different, but the same. And an audience for our efforts is waiting to line up around the block.  All we have to do is deliver.

The next big rush of spec sales this fall will indicate if you too are inspired by this challenge. Ever raising the bar, and ever changing the nature of what a “hit” really means, is an opportunity for all of us to play.

Do let’s!

And when I settle into my seat and watch this latest Batman, I know I will feel especially satisfied to still be “a part of” a legacy of storytelling , and that we will write the next chapter ourselves.

We had a fantastic workshop in Austin, Texas, this weekend. Twelve strangers walked into the room Saturday morning and by Sunday afternoon each stood before their colleagues and pitched their story perfectly! And each had an honest-to-gosh winner of an idea: clear, concise, and sizzling with possibility! 

I love this class! I run to teach it whenever we have one scheduled and really look forward to it all week. I love the creative exchange, love to see projects get better over the course of 48 hours, and I LOVE it when a suggestion for a script — a scene or a plot point — comes flying across the room from another writer.  

It literally gives me chills when a great title, concept, and story come together. I am high for a week afterward thinking of how each will develop — for from that simple starting point, a great screenplay can begin. From that little acorn of a logline, everything we need to turn it into a mighty oak is right there!

It’s the story’s DNA!

I love the intersection of art and commerce. Saturday night, I had a chance to take a break and meet writer Mark Hacker and producer J.R. Ghaddar of Counter Clockwork Films. Both have ties to Hollywood and the business world, but have chosen to set up shop in Austin. The city is brimming with talent and energy. And Mark and J.R. are great examples of creative people putting their skills to the test — and winning.

How do I get an agent? How do I sell my script? How do I get my script in the hands of producers who will be interested? These are questions writers ask me all the time, and I’ve been there. I struggled to find an answer, fought the despair of the sound of “one hand clapping,” hung in there to discover what it took to get a sale.

Would you believe me if I told you that the way to sell a script is to do everything that is outlined in Save the Cat! Start with that killer idea! Pitch it! Get permission to continue and execute it in a way that satisfies. How many attempts will it take before you too “take a dollar from the man” (my favorite saying)? That is only a byproduct of how good you can get at formulating your ideas, writing better scripts, and getting them in the hands of those who are as excited about the intersection of art and commerce as you are.

But we are doing it! We are connecting to others who can help, sharpening our skills, networking through our writer’s groups and here on the site. And the person who is most excited about your success is me!

I want you to sell your script! I want you to have every tool, connection, skill set, and experience you need to get where you want to go. Tune in to this site each week and take a look around, from the Forum to the News section, to our classes, to our writer’s groups, we are succeeding. And if you have a question I can help you with, write me directly at blake@blakesnyder.com This is your best year ever! You are next!

And when you succeed you must pass on your experience and tell others How to Sell a Script!

“I don’t know if you realize how far you’ve come in a year.”

I said these words to a writer the other day, and when I did I thought “What an understatement!” Flashing back to those initial interactions with her, her progress is obvious — and a bit breathtaking.

When we first met, there was very little to recommend in her ideas or execution of them.

She wasn’t quite getting it. I wondered, frankly, if she ever would. And as a result, no one else was getting it either. No wonder she heard crickets from those agents and producers she sent her scripts and pitches to.

And look now: She has a script being read by a major studio, interest from an agent, and fresh new ideas that have merit — and commercial promise.

All in a year.

This is one of the joys of having my job. I can see your improvement. I can tell you exactly how much better you are at this than when we met.

It’s important for us to claim these victories, to occasionally stop and admit our lives have gotten quantifiably better.

And if you don’t believe me, I suggest you create a “Writer’s Resume.”

What’s that?

Occasionally even writers are called upon to account for themselves and the full arc of their careers. I had to do this recently and was astounded at all the stuff I had to cut out to make room for new successes.

The achievement that seemed so big on the last resume seems small by comparison; look how far I’ve come!

And by the time I finished, I also had the ah-ha! of seeing how the seemingly random flailings I thought were leading nowhere at the time, actually looked planned when seen from a higher perspective. What else could explain how one relationship, job, script, or interaction led me so seamlessly to the next level?

A Writer’s Resume also makes us realize our job is unique. We’re creatives. Not everything we do can be measured in dollars and cents. I love my sales, and love the achievement of them, but I’m proud of every script I’ve written and looking back can see why I had to write each one — even those that didn’t sell.

There are partnerships, ongoing class work, skillsets gained that we can tack on to our Writer’s Resume, including the simple realization of how some aspect of writing and storytelling works.

The arc of our development as writers is not just the puffery of a c.v. that shows the latest thing we can write home about, but the education and experience of a steely pro who, when called on, can deliver.

Would you hire you? What service do you offer that no one else can? What is the poster of you?

These are all questions that creating a Writer’s Resume can help you answer, and help you plan for your next level.

I hope mostly that it tickles you to see what a fun ride this is! My Gosh! The odd jobs I had to suffer through early on, writing on the side, at night in 24-hour restaurants, the moments of clarity when a sudden breakthrough let me know I was onto something! These victories cannot be measured or fully claimed until we see that there really is a plan, and we are fulfilling it every day! Whether we recognize it or not!

Is there a checklist we can reference to see what makes a successful story?

That is the assumption I am operating under, and in the development process I follow with the writers I work with, in and out of the studio system, it proves time and again to be not only real — but effective.

My complete checklist is a secret I cannot share as yet, a 50-point beauty that goes into greater detail, but I can show you glimpses of it, and tease you with what’s behind the curtain. I have hinted at the things I think should go on that list in general, which should help in any storytelling effort we undertake.

It starts with concept. Is it understandable? Does it “grab” me? Or are we going to have to rely on other factors such as casting, special effects, budget, or “an act of God” to pull it off? No gimmicks, please. No one-joke premises expanded to the breaking point. It can be simple, sure. But simple in a way that promises depth when explored. A richness, a primal-ness, that just speaking the words of your idea — excites me!

If satisfying enough to attempt, can the concept be exploited to its very maximum, can we draw from it the excitement, freshness, “trailer moments” —  as well as moments of clarity — that make a story sing?

If we can say: “Check!” If “Okay, what’s next?” we move on. We start to “beat this sucker out” and when we do, can we find HUGE change in the protags? Why is this “the most important adventure that ever happened to the hero of this movie”? One way to judge is to check out if the beginning and the end are opposites; is the “snapshot of the world before” this adventure begins and the “snapshot of the world after” so different, so breathtakingly bi-polar that we know for sure we’ve been somewhere? And know we’ll never be the same?

Okay.  Check.  Move on.

Do Acts 1, 2, and 3 each exploit the essence of what those three worlds demand? Is “Thesis” ripe with problems? Not just idiosyncratic problems for our hero, but systemic ones for the world he lives in? Is the “upside-down version of the world” in “Anti-thesis” so amazingly new and otherworldly that we cannot believe this hero will survive? And once he does “die” on page 75, is there a “Synthesis” in Act Three in which what he was, and what he has learned, combine to create a “Third Way” that is the lesson of the movie?

Check?

Finally: theme.  What is this “about”? What is the moral of the story? And more important, did we have a brush with the divine? This, to me, is what it really comes down to. Did we see a “supernatural power” at work in this story that lifts it — and us – beyond our ordinary selves, and gives us cavemen a new way to look at the world in an inspired way? It doesn’t have to be “Use the force, Luke!”; it can be the divine of a friendship unearned yet granted to us anyway, a last minute reprieve before the sentence we deserve is carried out, or a simple kiss from the girl we never expected to have faith in us, who bestows the courage we need to be what we did not think possible. It’s looking into the black maw of nothingness and finding…

That’s all I’m asking for at the movies — something extraordinary. And yes, that’s “lightning in a bottle” hard to capture, even harder to describe. But if we build it, they will come. If we check our checklist, and know at least that we are looking for it, and demand it’s in there, then every silly comedy, big action adventure, deep Oscar-nominated triumph, and seemingly simple love story will knock our socks off.  

Different stories.

Same checklist.

What’s yours?

Sometimes the best thing we can do with an idea is… let it go!

As a self-proclaimed “idea guy” l love my notebooks. I love to work ‘em, to play with words and images. And yet it’s often a painful truth with a bad idea that the line of least resistance is giving up on it!

This past weekend for our beats class (which if you don’t know by now is my favorite thing on earth to conduct) we heard great ideas, but in some cases it took a while to convince the creator! Many participants pitched at least two or three ideas at the start of class Saturday morning, and sure enough, often the ones they came in with which they were sure they wanted to work on, turned out to be the ones that did not stick.

We nurture these little ideas that don’t work for odd reasons. Something catches in our minds about it that we like and we are determined to make it live. It could be a mood it evokes or a statement we want to make, but when we tell others, we can see by the glaze in their eyes we might be the only ones who care. 

I have a bundle of these ideas in my quiver that I am still trying to beat into submission. Whenever the chance comes to pitch them again in a new circumstance, I am always surprised when it still doesn’t catch! Maybe it will someday, in another form, or with another piece attached to it, but for now it’s Instant Ambien.

The ones that work are easy. The ones that work don’t take salesmanship. The ones that work you don’t have to make sure everyone is awake or in a good mood to “get.” The good ideas you can catch in the middle of a hurricane, yelled across a crowded bus, or while jogging through traffic. The good ones are good because the combination of irony, mental image, target audience, and the punch of a great title is compelling.

No amount of banging on a bad idea will help. But the good ideas are like a good joke: you can’t wait to tell someone else — because you know it will light up their eyes and will do so every time!

If you are working on an idea that is too plain, too complicated, or too hard to explain… stop. Throw it away. If it doesn’t catch, there’s a reason.  If you find yourself in this situation and are bummed about this — we always are! —  try these exercises for idea generation this holiday weekend and see what happens:

1. The Fish out of Water T bar — Draw a big T on a piece of paper. Label one side “Fish” and make a list of types of characters; on the other side send that “fish” to a place that is the opposite of who he is. Example: Tomboy FBI agent - Beauty Pagent = Miss Congeniality. There is no difference between comedy or drama in these exercises. Example: Simpleton isolated from life for 40 years - World of Big Money Politics = Being There.  

2. The Institutionalized Dilemma — In the middle of a piece of paper write an institution. Now draw lines out from that center and add types of characters found in an Institutionalized story. (see Chapter 9 of STC!GTTM) Who is the rebel? The mind-numbed robot? The innocent who’s new to the company? Now ask: how does this institution have 30 days to live? Which of the characters will save it or help to bring it down? Example: Law Firm - On the verge of being sued by a client - veteran lawyer sick of the lies = Michael Clayton.

3. New Type of Magic — Again, take a piece of paper and draw two vertical lines making three equal columns.  Column 1 = Type of hero.  Column 2 = Type of magic spell, wish, power. Column 3 = +/- Is this magic power a Blessing (+) or a Curse (-)?  Example: Superficial ladies man - Power to see only the beauty of women - curse! = Shallow Hal It works for dramas, too. Example: Boy who wants to get over a girl - given the ability to erase the memory of the girl from his mind - curse! = Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

There is great power in surrender! When you’re trying too hard, it won’t work. Relax. Have fun. Let go.

And let the right idea drop in your lap from out of the sky — there’s a reason the good ones always do! 

You may call it Act 1, Act 2, and Act 3, but I call ‘em “Thesis,” “Anti-thesis,” and “Synthesis.”

The three worlds of a screenplay are just that, different places with different demands. When deconstructing a script in class, or in a studio consultation, this is where I always start: the big picture, the overview. Examining the “three worlds” not only shows “How does it begin and how does it end?” it reveals the process of the hero’s “transformation” in a way that is the starting point of any discussion about “fixing” a script. A good example of the “three worlds” in action is seen in the #2 movie of the weekend, Wanted.

Wanted is fun action picture, and while I shy away from movies that encourage their teen audience to shoot people as a way to get results (Grand Theft Auto IV dude, about as scary as it gets), there is a style to the violence that is new and terribly intoxicating. But as a structuralist, I am most concerned with how it works.

Wanted works like Matrix. A naif, an innocent, a cubicle dweller with a dead end life, is told on page 12 that in fact he is a natural born assassin. After the normal guy hesitancy to join up — even though doing so means hanging out with Angelina Jolie — our hero succumbs and his training begins. This section is just part of the “upside-down version of the world,” the Anti-thesis of everything our hero, and we, think of as “normal.” And “training” is always a big part of any “Fun and Games” rise to the “false victory” of Midpoint.

And yet, the funhouse-mirror reflection characters that appear here are just like those Dorothy finds in Wizard of Oz. What were farmhands and mean teachers and sideshow medicine men become in the “Anti-thesis” world scarecrows and wicked witches and wizards. So it is in Wanted, as our hero finds a whole new pecking order at “work.” If he thought being a cubicle dweller was tough, his coffee breaks now include dips in a pool of electrolytes to speed recovery from his knife cuts and broken bones.

But that’s World Two for ya. And “Anti-thesis” is just the beginning of change this hero will undergo. It’s like Training Day, in that regard, in which we begin the movie with an “ethical” but naive hero, throw him into the upside-down world where the rules no longer apply, and now force him to choose a “third way.”

And again, just like Training Day, when that world proves to be false, and falsely embracing, we must change yet again. In Wanted’s “All Is Lost” the hero (James McAvoy) is “worse off than when this movie started” and the “whiff of death” includes almost being killed while losing the “mentor” that didn’t seem to be so when we first met him. The compare-and-contrast between these two dead teachers in Training Day (Scott Glenn) and Wanted (Thomas Kretschmann) tells us how very similar these two stories are too.

The “third way” the hero seeks is a combination of what he was and what he’s learned. The hero can no longer go back to the life he had before, but he can’t stay where he is either. In the “netherworld” of “Dark Night of the Soul,” he must find a new answer — and he does! Wanted’s Act Three “Synthesis” includes the “Five Point Finale” and a “Storming the Castle” sequence that actually is a castle! Love it when that happens!

By the end, Wanted’s hero is “transformed” having crossed through three worlds: Thesis- Anti-thesis-Synthesis. Yes, the special effects are great, yes, the story is compelling, but it’s this transformation that makes it the most satisfying part of any movie, and what we all seek — audience and writer.

My lovely date and I saw the new Steve Carrell film Get Smart the other evening and in the middle of it, she turned to me and whispered:  ”Is it All Is Lost yet?”

Assuming she was asking about the movie, whew!, I replied: “One more minute,” and sure enough, moments later, there it was. Remember, knowing structure to impress girls is the reason I got into this years ago. Thank you, Syd Field! But beyond improving one’s social life, the beats help writers tell a story and not worry about structure. And Get Smart is one of the better examples of the Beat Sheet in action.

Spoiler alerts in position, let’s take a look:

I would be very proud if I were the writer of Get Smart. Tough assignment. The biggest success of the story is you did not have to know the series to get it, and if you did, so much the better. They humanized Maxwell Smart (made legend by Don Adams) by making him a wannabe, steeped in research, and trying hard, but not there yet. This is his genesis story, how he and 99 and Fang and the Chief came to be. 

Structurally when Steve and Anne Hathaway take on the mission, we enter Act Two. In this version, the really stunning stand-in for Barbara Feldon is a seasoned spy, who (following the Rom-Com commandment Thou Shalt Not Like Each Other At First) is less than pleased to be on the case with a research nerd. 

Fun and Games follow as the “set pieces” of dropping behind enemy lines, reconnaissance, gadgets, and spy stuff unfold, all while B Story banter sets this love story into motion. Fun and Games bits and B story beats shuffle as the story heads to Midpoint. The peak comes (in public) at a dance, when in a “false victory” Steve proves himself not only a good spy but a gentleman as he dances with a matronly Moscovite. 

And though there is not an A and B cross that results in a first kiss (no “Sex at Sixty” exactly) , it is the first time Anne smiles at Steve and we sense that despite herself she may be fallling for him.

What’s All is Lost? Why it’s when Steve is “worse off than when this movie started” — when he is fired, accused of treason, and loses the girl. I so often teach in class how this is the spot where the hero winds up behind bars, wondering where he went wrong, and there is Steve in a Guantanamo Lite cell doing just that.

But with help from the B Story (Anne who can’t believe Steve really is a traitor), Steve busts out of jumpsuit life and we head into Act Three with a perfect example of the “Five Point Finale” — including Point 4 when Steve “Digs, Deep Down” to come back from the dead after a train-dragging incident. New plan in motion, the reunited team, having made amends to each other and working in Synthesis, stop the Bad Guys.

Watching, you just think this is a funny movie, and it is. Really silly, really wonderful stuff, and not a swear word in it. Again,  if it were my script I would be very proud. But structure is never silly. It frees us up to fill in the blanks any which way we like, to be as creative as we can be — and even to impress our dates!

This year’s Great American Pitchfest was terrific. The gathering out at the Marriott Burbank sponsored by Signe Olynyk and her fabulous team was even better than last year, and despite the heat — or maybe because of it — it was a sizzling success.

And I loved, loved, loved the time I had meeting with all the writers in attendance.

I had a packed house for my speech on Saturday morning and I want to thank all of you who were so kind in your enthusiasm. We had a lot of fun! And we got down to business too! What a fantastic time!

I got to test out some new theories on how to “turn out” your movie idea, how to find the “grabber” of it — and by doing so not just have a better pitch but a better story! And the enthusiastic response from all the writers I met with afterward only reinforced my confidence that I am on the right track.

Storytelling gets simpler the more you exercise your skills, that’s the good news. When I hear a pitch — and hear a problem in it — the fix is usually easy. There are basic things that misfire, and those are usually just a matter of adjustment. But the hurdle is what it’s always been for creative people. Can you let go of your preconceived notion of what it is, and hear what listeners are telling you? And if you keep getting the same rejection over and over, can you huddle in your creative place and come back out with the solution?

This, to me, is what it’s all about. Story is a puzzle. And getting all the pieces to fit just right is not just a good sales tool, it’s the point of the job. The challenge also has to be fun!

Here are some things found in the pitches that don’t work:

- An idea that’s a gimmick, not a story

- A hero with no goal and no obstacle in the way

- Concepts that are too simple, or flat when you hear them and…

- Confusion of ideas. Like I said in my talk, a confusing idea is like a Chicken Omlette; you can’t quite put your finger on exactly what’s wrong — but there’s something about the concept that just isn’t right!

Mostly, I thank one and all for your love and support. I genuinely felt welcomed by every person in the room Saturday, and whatever your reason for being there, God bless you! I wish you all real success in the world and think about you every day hoping today will be the breakthrough that changes your lives!

Yes, even you.

Have a great writing week everyone, and thanks again to all my new friends I met this year at Pitchfest. Hope to see you all again soon!

Every “no” is one step closer to a “yes.”

That’s a little motto my producer father taught me. And he knew. He proved that “get up off the mat  and hit ‘em again” works. 

My dad’s motto is more than a lesson in persistence; it is a mathematical certainty, and a spiritual one. It means there are x number of “no’s” between you and victory, so why not get through them?

And do so with a smile? 

Why not look at that “pass,” that “no thanks,” that “sorry, we already have something like it” as getting closer not farther away from your goal. We are closer every time we even assay the field.

I love this philosophy. It helps me stay in the game when a string of “no’s” urges me to quit. We are indeed getting closer each time out.

But we must also ask an important question: closer to what?

You say you are closer, but what does that mean? 

What is your goal for today? What is your goal for this month? What is your goal for this year?

Are you getting closer to these goals, or do you have to re-tool, change goals, and figure out a new way?

We are half way through your best year ever! This is the year you succeed wildly. This is the year you become what you always wanted to be. This is the year, 2008, when all your dreams come true.

What does that look like?

Do you have a clear picture of what you’re wearing when the phone call comes? Have you picked out the pool that will be in the backyard of the house you buy with the proceeds from your amazing spec screenplay sale that everyone in town is talking about? Do you know what charity you’re going to give to with the money that comes flooding in your door — and maybe it’s not a bad idea to start tithing now?

The routine of pursuing our goals sometimes becomes exactly that — routine. We write x number of pages per day, send out x number of email queries per month, attend x number of meetings with our writers groups. All good. It’s the process.

Yet occasionally we must take a beat and look around. As we push toward our goal, let’s pause and assess exactly where we’re going.

Failure is not an option for us. We are here to succeed. We are here to get closer to our goals by becoming better in the face of a “no.”  And that alone is a “yes” I can proudly claim every hour of every day!

How is your year progressing? What is your assessment of how you’re doing — and what changes do you have to make either in your goals, or your approach to them, to make this year the best ever?

Mostly, what can we do to help? That’s also why we’re here. If you need help, ask for it. If you want feedback, get it. Ask for help. And ask for success. Say it out loud, and every “no” will become a “yes.”

I’m available.

That’s all I’m saying.

If anyone wants my input on a movie before going into production, don’t be shy… just ask.

I mention this in relation to the latest installment of Indiana Jones. The dust has settled. The filmmakers are safely in profit — they have a hit! And Indy 4 is an entertainment to be proud of.  But for screenwriters, looking at all four films in the Bullwhip Quartet, it’s also a primer in the difference between good and great.

I propose that the first and the third in the series are the best.  What do 1 and 3 have that 2 and 4 have less of? Let’s take a quick look at Raiders of the Lost Ark (1) and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (3):

1.  Both have clearly stated themes and “stories,” not just set pieces. And that is key!

2. Both 1 and 3 hit the points of the BS2 like clockwork; they are structurally solid.

3. Both show how relationships change with the action, and are not just tacked onto the story, and…

4. Both have really bad bad guys (and though it’s hard to beat Nazis, there is a point to this!)

In short, these things trump any action or set piece and without these elements, story suffers.

Let me just use the word “flabbergasted.” I was flabbergasted when I revisited the first Indiana Jones, which I did in preparation to see this summer’s installment.  And right there before the adventure begins, Harrison Ford turns to Denholm Elliot and says “I don’t believe in black magic or superstition.”

Well, guess what? That’s the theme of the movie. That is the “arc” of what happens to Indiana Jones in the course of his first adventure.  He goes from a non-believer, a scientist, a guy with a lot of whipsnap smarts but no heart, and slowly piece by piece finds “faith.” 

The ending in which he alone, like Ulysses tied to the mast to hear the Sirens, is witness to the divine intervention of the Ark of the Covenant is proof that he has changed. And yet all along the way his “helper” characters in the B Story have been trying to convince him.  ”Don’t you see, it’s a radio transmitter to talk to God,” says fellow archeologist Belloq midway through the adventure. But Indiana, at this point, is unfazed.  

I was also delighted when I realized how precisely the first Indiana Jones hits the marks of the BS2. It had been a while since I saw it and the joy I felt in seeing its midpoint “false victory” surprised even me. When Indiana discovers the whereabouts of the Ark, only to find Karen Allen is alive, it’s the one-two punch of a classic midpoint. I’d forgot.  ”Sex at sixty!” I yelled when they kissed. That’s the oldtime screenwriter’s phrase for when the boy and girl kiss at the first hour. It’s the A and B story cross, followed quickly by one of the great reverses in movies when Indiana has to tie her back up again, or risk his real rescue effort.

But it’s all to the point of the “spine” of the story, the “greatest event that ever happened to Indiana Jones” — the story about how he started without faith and, over the course of a wild adventure, found it, by amending his past misdeeds, learning to love, and discovering a power greater than himself!

A movie that’s “about something” is also part of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, the third installment co-starring Sean Connery.  Here again, 3 has a story beneath the hijinks, that of a relationship between a father and son, and the son’s quest to make his dad proud. Amid all the chase scenes and derring-do and wonderful set pieces, that is how each bit “moves the story forward.”

Once again, Indy is learning faith here, too. And structually, it is also one of the great examples of what I call the “Five Point Finale” in Act Three when Indy has a choice: the prize of a great archeological treasure or saving his father’s life. It is one of the great “dig, deep down” moments that ranks right up there with “Use the force, Luke” to show what real faith is.

Finally, let’s talk Nazis.  It’s not a coincidence that they are part of 1 and 3 and absent from 2 and 4. “Make the bad guy badder” is sure-fire screenplay physics that guarantees your hero will be a bigger, too. In 2, the evil is vague. In 4, it’s vague-er. And there is a blur even in the script that can’t quite decide if Communism is bad at all. What are the consequences of the Soviets getting 4’s treasure? Hard to judge. 

Good as they are, 2 and 4 are missing these elements. Same great character, same great team running the show, same top flight A-list writers, and yet 1 and 3 are stories that are truly memorable.  2 and 4, less so.

So take note. Your script too must be “about something” and have meaning that touches us at a primal, and even spiritual level.   

Do so, and your story will be memorable, too.

And if you want to ever talk, I’m here all week! I would have started by asking: “What exactly is Indiana Jones’ ‘problem’ at the beginning of 4?” How will this be “the greatest event that ever happened to the hero of this story?”  If those questions are answered in any screenplay, I believe a more satisfying story results.