Write It, Pitch It, Sell Your Screenplay

The “elements of story” are equally critical to the creative dish you are trying to serve entertainment industry buyers. These elements define your Main Character’s unique relationship to the universe you have placed him or her in. As a result, they determine your audience’s understanding of and ongoing emotional engagement with your Main Character. These elements of story are the ingredients that you, the chef, get to select to create the multi-course feast that is your script. And by choosing ingredients that range from familiar to enticing to enraging, you establish your audience’s personal connection to that character. Just as you would select a cut of meat, type of vegetable, or array of spices in your kitchen, you will select, for your Main Character: The World, The Flaw, The Mission, The Conflict, The Stakes and The Jeopardy.

#1: The World

Two building blocks make up your Main Character’s World. The first is the setting where his or her journey takes place. The setting includes the time period and physical location, possibly narrowed down to one community or segment of society you are focusing on in your script. “New York City, 1981, in the rebellious community of West Village punk rockers” is one example of a setting; “Rural West Virginia, 1950, in the simmering community of Bluefield coal miners” is a wholly different one and “Aouratania, 2513, in the heavily secured palace of HRH Queen Zuxxi” is quite another.

If you are familiar with U.S. geography and history, you immediately sense the difference between the first two locations, thanks in part to the second building block of your Main Character’s World: the rules of the society. What are the general expectations, privileges, restrictions, tensions and laws of the place, time period and community in which your Main Character exists – and where does your Main Character fit into that general social order?

In “New York City, 1981, in the rebellious community of West Village punk rockers,” you have two completely different scripts if your Main Character is a newly arrived punk rock guitarist versus being a Wall Street businessman who inherits a rent-controlled apartment in that neighborhood. Similarly, in “Rural West Virginia, 1950, in the simmering community of Bluefield coal miners,” a Main Character who is the White wife of a newly promoted mining supervisor sets up a very different story than one who is the youngest child of three in a Black coal mining family. You know this if you are basically familiar with the real world rules of those societies at those times.

For the futuristic setting of “Aouratania, 2513, in the heavily secured palace of HRH Queen Zuxxi,” you have the responsibility not just of defining the physical location and society, but also of carefully crafting rules and norms for them, so you present an understandable World. This also holds true for screenplays set in ancient times, magical worlds or any other setting in which your audience can’t immediately and easily identify the general expectations, privileges and restrictions of your Main Character based on real knowledge of the past or present day settings.

Don’t worry that creating the World is a giant, limitless exercise; in fact, story structure makes this simple. Once you’ve defined the Theme for your Main Character, you must place him or her in a World that restricts his or her control or influence over the Theme. If you, for instance, have a Main Character who arcs around the internal issue of “Fatherhood,” then you must set him in an external World in which he has limited personal control over the norms and practices surrounding Fatherhood, such as “United States, 1970s, in the upscale enclaves of Manhattan’s Upper West Side.” (Ted Kramer’s Kramer vs. Kramer would not resonate with audiences in 2015 because Kramer vs Kramer itself helped change the dialogue and laws governing paternal custody rights. These many decades later, as a solvent, engaged, primary caregiver for his son, Ted would enjoy, at minimum, shared custody of Billy, and Joanna probably couldn’t find an attorney to represent her after having abandoned her son.)

Depending on your Motivating Moment, you may already have a vision of a World you wish to explore, or you may have a Main Character you want to develop. You can begin crafting your World with either! If you are starting with a compelling World, establish a main value that some community members lack control over, and you have your Main Character’s Theme. IMPORTANT: this lack of control doesn’t mean s/he is wholly powerless! Ted Kramer had enormous privilege and power in 1970s America – just not over Fatherhood. Similarly, if you are developing a Main Character who will arc around Intimacy, you must craft a World in which s/he would have no control over that, such as a small fringe community of five survivors in the waterless deserts of Earth in 2215.

Your Main Character’s World and his or her place in it creates the first moment of relatability for your audience. They may relate to your Main Character’s position in society (e.g., “uninspired drone,” “bullied newcomer,” “distrusting loner”) or to the society in which you’ve placed him or her (e.g., “unjustly imprisoned rebels,” “self-indulgent nobility,” “peaceful, law-abiding citizens”), it doesn’t matter which. It only matters if your audience relates to neither.

Creating your World can be confusing because there are at least two different ones in any sound script. The first is the World of your Set-Up, which is how your Main Character has lived and expected to live until the Unexpected Change. The second is the World introduced by the Unexpected Change! These two Worlds can share the same physical setting and time period, with the Main Character just being challenged to a new role or set of societal norms after the Unexpected Change. Or the Unexpected Change can transport the Main Character to a different time via a wormhole, a hot tub, a DeLorean, a remote control, etc. Or the setting, time period and norms may be the same, but the Unexpected Change makes the Main Character a physically different person, accountable to a different set of norms, thanks to a magic spell, a carnival game, a fortune cookie, dust from a dollhouse, etc. Kudos to you if you are naming all of these movies as I go along – join in at PlanetDMA.com!

See if you can define your screenplay’s World right now. What is the time period, location, central community and dominant social standard in which your Main Character initially lives? Great. Next, how does the Unexpected Change alter any of those things (or your Main Character’s physical experience of them)? Great. Finally, how does that change restrict your Main Character’s control over the value that is your Theme? As an example: It is the mid-70s in the U.S., and men are the kings of the workforce and their castles. After Ted’s wife abandons him with his young son, he is challenged to shift from breadwinner to caregiver in a world that makes no accommodations for single dads – and where divorced fathers habitually lose primary custody of their minor children to the mother.

#2: The Flaw

Why can’t Main Characters just accept they have no control over this new World? First, if they did…you’d have no movie. Remember, based on The “3” in The “1-3-5,” your Main Character has to shift, or “arc,” in the course of the script, so you can’t begin with a lovable, fun, readily adaptable person. The Main Character’s adaptation to change is your movie! So you must build a character with real weaknesses who will grow over the course of his or her journey. Critically, your Main Character must have one dominating belief, or “flaw,” that gets in the way of him or her succeeding in the challenges the Theme presents within the realities of the World you’ve established.

Flaws are limiting personal beliefs in the new World in which your Main Character must exist, such as a “rampant xenophobe” who thinks his culture is inherently superior to another, an “intimacy-phobe” who insists marriage ruins a relationship, or an “insecure cynic” who is certain pretty people have it easier. “Chauvinist” Ted Kramer thinks careers are harder and more important work than parenting, and “sheltered pre-teen” Josh Baskin thinks grown people get to have all the fun. The filter of their Flaws clouds each of their choices in the beginning of their journeys. Note that this Flaw must be overcome by the end of your script and their Arc!

Your Main Character’s core “Flaw” helps makes him or her relatable to the audience. They may know someone with the same limiting belief and are eager to see how your story fixes it. It gives them hope for their relationship with that person. Even better, they also may recognize it as their own “Flaw” and are eager to see a similar person change and be rewarded for such growth. It gives them hope for themselves.

Establishing the Flaw can be confusing because some believe you are supposed to create “likable” characters. That is a dead-end opening for a sellable screenplay! Instead, you must create “relatable” characters, with a Flaw that your audience identifies with personally or socially. Wondering how this particular Main Character ultimately grows beyond the Flaw keeps your audience and your reader emotionally invested throughout the script.

#3: The Mission

The Unexpected Change propels or forces your Main Character’s on a journey of growth in relationship to the Theme. That journey is called the Mission, and it simply is a summary of the Character Arc. Ted Kramer is on a mission to experience, better understand and grow as a Father, and by giving Fatherhood up to protect his son, he makes his most powerful choice as a Father. Josh is on a mission to experience, better understand and grow as an Adult, and by giving the perks of Adulthood up for the sake of his mother, best friend and own missed journey of youth, he takes his first major step towards true Adulthood. If you are having a hard time stating a similarly simple Mission, confirm that you have a single theme guiding each moment of your Main Character’s arc.

Internally, of course, your Main Character’s Flaw impedes his or her effective pursuit of this Mission. That is the internal conflict in your script.

Stating your Main Character’s Mission sometimes is confusing because some believe it answers the question “What does my Main Character want?” This implies there is a single thing s/he wants throughout the entire script, which is the opposite of sellable screenwriting! Instead, your Mission is a summary of “What value does my Main Character arc around?” As you see in the examples above, that allows you to clearly establish his or her growth in your script.

#4: The Core Conflict

You now have set a relatably Flawed Main Character on a relatable Mission of personal growth in a relatable but suddenly changing World. The initial clash between these elements is the “Core Conflict” of your script. The Core Conflict is the clash between your Main Character’s internal values and the external mission s/he now must begin in the new World. What happens when a chauvinist male becomes a single father? What happens when a coddled suburban kid is forced to become a working man in the big city? What happens when a multifaceted young woman must choose a single way to think and live for the rest of her life? The immediately obvious conflict between these Fish (the Main Character) and their Water (the World) is why traditional fish-out-of-water tales are so simple to grasp and sell.

Now let me make it quite simple: every screenplay is a fish-out-of-water tale if you’ve created the right contextual World for your Flawed Main Character. A “rebellious youth” who loves to dance is not going to immediately succeed in a highly restrictive religious community. A “pampered airhead” who revels in the promise of an upwardly mobile marriage and pink designer outfits is not going to instantly succeed at Harvard Law. However, if you relocate Legally Blonde’s “Elle” to a temp job at Vogue magazine, you’ve lost your core conflict – your Main Character shares the same values as Your World! Instead, drop “frumpy independent” Anne Hathaway outside of the Vogue editor’s door, and you win again with The Devil Wears Prada.

Because your Main Character’s Mission is a steadily evolving thing, the rules, population and cultural norms of the World must directly and increasingly thwart your Main Character on every step of the journey. Chauvinistic Ted Kramer first clashes with his depressed, self-loathing, 1970s housewife who leaves him with his kid. Ted next clashes in his career, parenting duties and romantic life with people who have no sympathy or respect for a man who is his child’s primary caregiver – in fact, the earlier version of Ted himself would have scoffed at that guy. Ultimately, Ted Kramer clashes with an entire legal system that strips all value of – and control over – his role as a parent because he is a man. In this powerful twist, Ted himself is crushed by the institutionalized hammer of gender bias.

As you can see, the Flaw also consistently informs the nature of the Main Character’s conflicts with the World. So as you craft opponents, they must be thematically tied to the Flaw. If we try this again, this time with Big, we would say the Core Conflict is “a sheltered suburban pre-teen is forced to live as a working man in the big city.” Josh’s flaw is believing grown people get to have all of the fun. He first clashes with a new, grown up body, which forces him out of the protective nest of his mother’s house. He next clashes with his best friend, girlfriend and company, who expect his independence and increasingly depend on him, too. Finally, he clashes with the accepted norms of adult “success” that threaten to catapult him into a promotion, a full-time romantic relationship and all of the responsibilities those require him to handle on his own. In a powerful twist at the end of the screenplay, a lonely and homesick Josh is crushed by all the perceived rewards adulthood afforded him.

Expressing your “Core Conflict” sometimes can be confusing because you have written many moments of conflict throughout the script. There may be a battle scene here, a fight there, the ending of a relationship over there, so you say, “There’s a lot of conflict throughout the story.” Indeed, there should be conflict within your Main Character, conflict between your Main Character and other characters (especially the Main Opponent) and conflict between your Main Character and the natural world (physical location, community, societal norms, time, etc.). All of these forms of conflict must exist, absolutely, but it is not enough for a sellable screenplay! Your script must initially place your Flawed Main Character’s at odds with his or her new World, and that clash is what you will sell as the Core Conflict.

To make it simple, just as the Theme is the single value around which your Main Character arcs, the Flaw is the central focus of each of his or her Opponents’ power.

No matter how fantastical your Main Character is, or how wildly inventive the World is in which you’ve placed him or her, the Core Conflict must be relatable to your audience. That’s why connecting it to your Main Character’s main value (Theme) and Flaw is so helpful. Josh’s evolving clash between Dependence and Adulthood is relatable whether he is a coddled suburban New York kid thrust into the working world or a coddled Home Planet youth thrust into an intergalactic war. The struggle must be familiar even when the trappings are not, in order for your audience to care about your Main Character and his or her journey.

#5: The Stakes

Stakes are what your Main Character stands to gain by pursuing the Mission. S/he may be fighting for a dorm room, the love of a woman or the freedom of the universe as we know it. Whatever it is, stakes are the incentives, the carrots, that keep your Main Character moving on his or her journey.

There is not a single set of stakes in a screenplay; instead, every scene offers stakes that drive your characters’ choices. However, it is critical that the stakes increase over the course of the Main Character’s journey. This makes sense because your opponents, especially your Main Opponent, will keep building power to thwart your Main Character’s Mission throughout the script.

That being said, the answer to the common question, “What’s at stake?” is best answered by what is at stake for your Main Character at the very end of the story. For Kramer vs Kramer, what’s ultimately at stake is the irreplaceable loving bond and home that Ted and Billy have formed as their family of two. In Big, what’s at stake is all of the amazing perks of being a successful, wealthy, independent young man in the city.

To keep your audience connected, your Main Character must be motivated by things that would motivate and are valued by your target audience. These “relatable” stakes help your audience to understand and agree with what drives your Main Character in that particular World.

Defining your stakes can be confusing if you’re not sure if you are supposed to explain what your Main Character is trying to gain versus what s/he could possibly lose when making a choice. That’s why, to keep it simple, I separate Stakes from Jeopardy. Stakes represent potential rewards. Jeopardy represents potential losses.

#6: Jeopardy

Jeopardy is what your Main Character puts at risk in the course of pursuing the Mission. S/he may be risking the loss of a friend’s approval, physical freedom, community status, a parent’s love or life itself. Whatever it is, jeopardy represents the fears, traps and negative consequences that make your Main Character hesitant along his or her journey.

There is not a single moment of jeopardy in a screenplay; instead, every scene offers risks that influence your characters’ choices. However, it is critical that the level of Jeopardy increases over the course of the Main Character’s journey. This makes sense because your opponents, especially your Main Opponent, continues building power to thwart your Main Character’s Mission.

That being said, the answer to the common question, “What’s at risk?” is best answered by what is at risk at the very beginning. For Kramer vs Kramer, what’s initially at risk if Joanna doesn’t come right back is Ted’s skyrocketing career and his related identity and role as a man. In Big, what’s at risk if Josh doesn’t find the carnival machine is the comfort, safety and protection of his mother’s home.

Jeopardy can be confusing with Stakes because people sometimes associate both with a set of options. Instead, Jeopardy and Stakes apply to the single choice your Main Character makes from that set of options. When offered the chance to ghost-write her white boss’s housekeeping advice column, what happens if a “colored maid” in 1960s America says, “Yes”? Stakes establish what she could win by making this choice, and Jeopardy establishes what s/he could lose. Similarly, if Luke flies his ship into the Death Star, the future of the free world is at stake, but he is putting his life into jeopardy.

Your overall story should now look like this:

THE STORY

The “Set-Up”

· The Initial World

· The Flaw

The “Unexpected Change”

· The New World

· The Core Conflict

· The (Initial) Jeopardy

· The Rejection

· The Commitment

The “Reversal”

· The Embrace

· The Return of the Main Opponent

· The Escalation

The “Final Battle”

· The Twist (optional)

· Rock Bottom

· The (Highest) Stakes

· The Final Choice

· The Sacrifice

The “Reward”

If you can complete the moments above and sense a connected story, I have great news for you. You’re almost ready to write (or rewrite) your script.

THE ROAD TO “RECOMMEND”

Pledge #5: My story will clearly establish a World setting and rules and my Main Character’s Flaw. My Unexpected Change will change the setting, the rules or my Main Character’s role or physical being and place his or her Flaw in direct conflict with the new World and the Theme. For each choice my Main Character makes in the new World, I will clearly establish – and increase – what is at stake and what is in jeopardy for my Main Character.

Chapter

7

The Elements of Story