The Revised and Expanded Script Principles of Tony Tost

Take 'em or leave 'em, here are my current core thoughts about the practical art of writing scripts

Alexander Mackendrick, aka my main source

1. Suspense is tension. Surprise is release. Both are necessary, but suspense is more fundamental — it can provide structure and create momentum for entire stretches, while surprise comes and goes in an instant. Surprise weakens the more you use it. Suspense can strengthen with use. (Hitchcock)

2. The drama is not in the dialogue being spoken. The drama is in the desires and goals underneath the words. If the characters don't have specific desires or goals, they can say many interesting things. But it won't be dramatic.

3. Drama in a nutshell is the audience asking: what’s going to happen next? (Mamet)

4. Strong dramatic structure results in strong dramatic feelings in the audience. Be careful not to string together mere incidents. “This scene happens, and then this next scene happens, and then this next scene happens" might work for a novelistic narrative. But “and then” doesn't work for drama. Instead, it needs to be either "this scene happens, therefore this next scene happens" or "this scene happens, but then this next scene happens to complicate it." (“Every Frame a Painting")

5. Every scene is about one thing. A scene about two equal things will come across as a scene about nothing. Other shit can happen in a scene, but it has to have one dramatic goal and drive.

6. Every scene of the script should belong to one character and be felt through that perspective. A dramatic scene with two or more equal points of view will usually come across as a dramatic scene with no point of view at all. The other characters need to have goals and perspectives of their own, but most scenes should have one primary point of view strong enough that the viewer can project him or herself into it (to experience it vicariously and not just intellectually). It’s usually much more effective to have the primary point of view shift within a scene than to try to have two or more equal points of view occurring at the same time.

7. A dramatic scene has three acts: a beginning (the cause), a middle (the action), and an end (the consequence). Except scenes usually work better when you take out acts one and three. (In a properly structured script, those causes and consequences will end up being in the prior and following dramatic scenes.)

8. The perfectly written dramatic scene can be told completely visually, without dialogue. Screenwriting is telling stories in pictures, not filming dialogue. Even a well-written dialogue scene should make dramatic sense even with the sound off. If the writer doesn't write drama visually into the scene, no amount of camera positioning or heavy emoting can compensate for it. (Gilligan, etc)

9. When possible, make the scene's protagonist's goal/desire/emotion be something physical the protagonist’s scene partner can play. The husband doesn't just feel a desperate sadness: he wants his wife to hold him. (They can play this.) The grandmother isn't just scared: she wants to get the scary teens to get off her porch. The goodhearted deputy isn't just concerned: he wants the scared girl to look elsewhere so she can't see her father's dead body. The protagonist's words and actions (and the actor's performance) can then be directed at getting the other actors in the scene to achieve that playable goal.

10. Don't mistake a character being victimized for that character somehow being interesting. Pain by itself doesn't make a character dramatically compelling. But, what a character does with that pain can be incredibly compelling.

11. An emotion gets more exciting when it gets more precise. General ecstatic joy or general sadness or continuous anger is vague, often annoying. Joy about a cup of coffee (Twin Peaks) or sadness about ducks leaving a swimming pool (The Sopranos) is very interesting.

12. The purpose of dialogue is not to be impressive, but to be revealing.

13. Lead characters need to appeal to both the understanding & the imagination. Their actions and motivations should make sense, but they shouldn't only make sense. There needs to be some core of mystery to them. Their inner life and drives shouldn’t be dictated only by their present circumstances. That is, their plot-derived circumstance shouldn’t be the most interesting thing about them.

14. Characters should experience clear throughlines of desire (the sustained pursuit of some exact, tangible goal). But for the audience, this throughline shouldn’t be a straight line or a chain of conflicts, but instead a roller coaster of anticipation, revelation, suspense, and (occasionally) surprise. (This can often be achieved by alternating between different character POVs.) Forget about the audience's experience of the story and the script gets boring and muddled and self-indulgent. Forget about the character's experience and inner integrity and the script gets incoherent and cheap.

15. Sometimes the truth of an emotion can be expressed in its apparent opposition. If you want to show that someone's alone, stick him in a crowd. If you want to show that someone has murderous intents, have her speak politely.

16. Focus on moments, not moves. A plot twist or reveal that doesn’t have an emotional charge to it isn’t a worthwhile twist or reveal.

17. For any TV episode, summarize the A and B and C stories accurately in a single sentence apiece. (“Brad tries to find a job” “Tracy’s horse is dying but she doesn’t want to bring it down because she hasn’t come to terms with her mother’s death,” etc) If you can't summarize the A and B and C stories in a sentence, then the storylines may be too vague to work dramatically. (They may move the plot forward and/or have cool moments, but by the end their full shape won't be felt.)

18. People don't change. They get revealed. (Success doesn't change people. It reveals them.) Create layers and masks for your main characters. What mask do they show their spouse? Their coworkers? What happens when their spouse shows up at work and begins chatting with those coworkers? What mask does your character wear then? What situations trigger forth layers they want hidden from sight?

19. When planning stories keep two questions in mind: a) What's going on in this character's mind right now? b) What is this character most afraid of happening? The more you can make b happen, the more exciting and tense the story becomes. (Gilligan)

20. Raising the stakes doesn't mean shoehorning life-or-death situations into your script like a deranged Michael Scott pulling out his gun over and over again in an improv class. The most interesting dramatic stakes are when a character's self-identity is at stake in a story. These are often life-or-death situations, but not always. Don't confuse one for the other.

21. Read your dialogue out loud. Repeatedly. What looks good on the page often sounds like crap when said aloud. Your characters are composing at the point of utterance (i.e., talking), not repeating something someone typed once upon a time. Simpler is usually better. If you can take out a word or a phrase, do so.

22. We tend to get invested in characters less if we like or sympathize with them than if we understand them more fully than the other people in his or her life. We could forgive Tony Soprano almost anything. Partially because Gandolfini was the greatest lead actor in TV history. But also because we saw him at home, at work, and at therapy, we understood him better than Carmela or Christopher or Dr. Melfi or even Tony himself. We saw every version of him and they were all interesting and inter-connected. If you want to get your protagonist over with the audience, don’t have them just pet a dog or something. Give your audience the sensation that only they understand this character.

23. The first draft is always bad. Especially when you think it’s really good. If possible, let it sit for 24 to 48 hours, then re-read it before sharing. (It's never as good as you think it is and you don't get bonus points for how quickly you can produce mediocrity.)

24. Don't assume the audience or reader is invested in your characters, your writing, your story, or you. Even if the story is meaningful to you, or tackles an important subject, you still have to make the characters and story so inescapably gripping the audience can't resist them. Don’t wait until page 30 to make your character interesting, or to reveal why they’re interesting: your reader will be on to the next script by then. It's not enough for your script to be "good enough" or "professional quality." It has to be so undeniably compelling that the people who read it want to attach themselves to it in order to see their own careers and fortunes rise. If it's not compelling enough to do that, revise. Or, more often, try again.

25. If Leigh doesn't love it, it's not good enough. But if Leigh does love it, stick to your guns. (That one just applies to me.) (But find your Leigh.)

26. Stories ride on desires. Someone actively wants something. By and large, this can take three forms: 1) someone is searching for something they don't have; 2) someone is trying to keep or protect something they already have; 3) someone is trying to get back something they've lost.

27. In TV, don't tell variants of the same story in an episode. If a lead character is on a quest, don't have the other lead characters be on quests. Give them a different kind of story, perhaps a more contained or stationary story. If one lead character is trying to protect something, have the other lead character try to acquire something. If one lead character is being external and violent, then have the other be more internal and nuanced. As John Sturges said, the key to storytelling is “meanwhile back at the ranch.” Once one storyline peaks in interest, cut to the other one. But don’t have them be essentially the same story with different characters.

28. TV isn't a narrative art. It's dramatic. That means you're not just figuring out plot points of a story. Instead, you're trying to create a second-by-second sensation in your reader/viewer: “oh God, what’s going to happen next?" This means creating a feeling of suspense and anticipation in the viewer as soon as possible and purposefully manipulating it until the episode or season or series is over.

29. The characters are arriving in every scene from somewhere else -- either physically or emotionally or psychologically. And they should be propelled by the scene to somewhere they wouldn’t be propelled by if this one scene didn’t exist. If a scene doesn't propel the characters forward in a specific new direction, it's probably not a necessary scene. If you can get your character from A to C without scene B, then scene B has to go.

30. A story can become monotonous if the tension is constant. (Mackendrick) So it's necessary to find your script's rhythm of tension, build-up, suspense, surprise, and relief. But those moments of relief need to deliver something new and essential. (Think of the four men in Rio Bravo sharing a song while waiting for the inevitable gunfight, a moment’s camaraderie that lets us experience the unspoken sense of community the men are fighting to protect.)

31. Every scene should be built around conflict. Most often, this is conflict between characters. But very occasionally, it can also be conflict between a character and their outer environment. Or their inner nature. Or even a conflict with the viewer's previous understanding of them.

32. End the scene when the impulse for the next consequential action is made clear. That is, when either the goal is achieved or when the protagonist discovers there must be another way of achieving it. Don’t linger. “The end of a scene should include a clear pointer as to what the next scene is going to be,” Alexander Mackendrick.

33. Network notes and the necessities of plot and backstory will all push you towards using language as a window, revealing the contents of your characters’ hearts and minds with all the subtlety of an instruction manual. But remember: in our daily lives, language is very rarely used this way. Language is usually used as a shield, or a weapon, or a distraction, or a mask. Use language as an index of the character’s heart and mind in a dramatic situation, not as simply a clear window explaining his or her mere thoughts and facts.

34. On a page by page basis, a script isn’t a story. It’s drama. At its end, a script is a story and has a shape. But as it unfolds scene-by-scene for the reader/viewer, it’s drama, and drama is a feeling. “Drama is anticipation mingled with uncertainty,” Alexander Mackendrick. Scene by scene, you need to create new things to anticipate, and new causes of uncertainty.

35. TV budgets usually can’t afford spectacle and TV schedules can rarely pull off a convincing action set-piece. But TV can provide characters, relationships, and great reveals. A great reveal can drive an entire episode, or even a season, of TV. But these reveals need to be built into the design, and earned, and properly paced. When planning a season of TV, think about how many of your reveals throughout the season will make a viewer think, “oh shit, this is a game changer.” Then structure and build the season arcs around those reveals so they have integrity as well as surprise. A fast paced plot-driven story should have more of these reveals than a more character-study paced story.

35. Triangles make for an interesting dramatic shape, even within a scene. If two characters are having a conversation or an argument, what’s a third element that can be introduced to the scene to provide tension and unpredictability? A sleeping baby? A mistress hiding in a closet that the other character doesn’t know about? A laptop with incriminating evidence on its screen just out of a character’s field of vision? (When James Mangold was making Cop Land, the great “you blew it!” scene b/w DeNiro and Stallone was flat while filming it. During a break, Mangold decided to introduce a sandwich for DeNiro’s character to be fixated on while Stallone is trying to talk to him. Suddenly, the scene had a new shape and came alive. If an essential scene is flat, try to find its sandwich.)

36. Two monsters are less scary than one monster. Two big bads are less interesting than one. “Two elements of suspense are half as suspenseful as one,” Alexander Mackendrick. Two reveals and two cliffhangers are less exciting than one. Aristotle: one dramatic tension should dominate the story. Other dramatic tensions should complement and inform the dominant one.

37. Every character is playing their own unique language game. That is, each person has their own personal relationship to the words they say. A heroine may always be speaking in order to reveal her superior education so people won’t underestimate her. An antagonist may speak in such a way as to test other characters’ moral compasses. A supporting character may mostly be speaking in order to convince himself he’s as brave and good as other people think he is. Each character should have their own relationship to their words that functions as a spine for you to return to. This will keep their dialogue scenes lively and unpredictable, and will help make scenes as much about character as plot advancement.

38. After a script feels finished, try to shot list it. That is, go scene by scene, shot by shot, throughout the entire script, annotating what the shot should be: closeup or wide? Static or moving camera? Handheld or dolly or steadicam, etc? Conceptualizing your scenes purely visually should push you to clarify the imagery and trim unnecessary dialogue (often, some visual element can serve the same purpose). It will also reveal which scenes are boring: if they’re boring to shot list, without enough drama or visual excitement to inspire interesting visuals, then they’ll probably also be boring to read, perform, and watch. If you don’t have enough time or energy to shot list extensively, the next best step is to determine what is the opening and closing image of each and every scene, and how you want to transition from scene to scene.

39. A well-structured script rarely has anything to do with act breaks, or hitting certain plot points by certain page numbers. In reality, a well-structured script is one where you understand what's currently happening and know why it's important and why all the characters are all doing whatever it is they are doing but -- despite your emotional investment in certain outcomes -- you still don't know what's going to happen next.

40. Information and exposition are the death of drama. And yet, information and exposition are necessary for storytelling. A great script strategically and stealthily conveys exposition and information to its reader in the guise of something else: a joke, or an interesting visual image, or a quirky character beat. Ideally, only later on will the reader realize that these interesting script details and gags were actually the vessels by which essential information was established. Information that arrives as information is boring.

41. In TV pilots, one of the most common producer/studio/network notes is that they want to “know more” about a supporting character. What this usually means is: they’re somewhat intrigued by this character, but they’re unsure how they’ll be essential to the story. Instead of contorting your scenes to bring in more information or exposition (aka the death of drama), sometimes the right move is to give this supporting character one strong beat of mystery in the pilot. This can be a secret look, or a hidden keepsake, or a mysterious phone call. Something that says: “this is leading to something.” (In the following episodes, you can then strategically layer in backstory as the story follows up on this character’s mysterious beat.)

42. Try to withhold every bit of verbal or visual information until it's the most dramatically ripe moment for it to arrive. This even goes as far as when to bring a character into a scene, or when to notice a flat tire, or when to have a plate of breakfast arrive, or when to have your hero find out that Darth Vader is his father. Have this information arrive at the best/worst possible time.

43. When working on scenes with supporting characters in them, try to imagine sending the script to your favorite actors who specialize in those roles. That is, go through your scenes seeking/making moments that might lure, say, Clarke Peters or Harriet Sansom Harris or Toby Huss to spend a few days on set. If you try to make these roles appeal to the best possible actors who might conceivably step into them, then these roles are bound to become more interesting, which’ll make your scenes more interesting, which’ll make your lead characters more interesting. Sometimes this means improving a supporting character's dialogue, or giving them a clearer motivation and POV, or some signature trait. More often, it usually means imbuing them with some grace note or small moment of unexpectedly truthful human behavior.

44. Feel free to challenge or disagree with notes, but try not to mock them, even in private. Making fun of network or producer notes simply turns that process into one where the writer is now some eye-rolling adolescent and those giving the notes are the out-of-touch parents who won’t let them drive the car or go to the junior high dance. Instead, try to take ownership of the notes you receive and guide the process to one where all the stakeholders can speak a common language and find common ground. (This happens only rarely, but at least you won’t be volunteering yourself to a self-infantilizing dynamic.)

45. No matter how clever and surprising your plot turns are, if all of your characters respond to them with absolutely predictable, routine emotions, your script will probably still be boring. Try to find moments of authentic emotional surprise. Unexpected feelings arriving at unexpected moments. An unexpected intensity to an emotion. A surprisingly truthful juxtaposition of seemingly incompatible feelings. Think about how the smooth, quiet Don Corleone suddenly explodes in anger when Johnny Fontane starts to cry in The Godfather. It’s not enough for your characters to say interesting things. Characters also need to have their own unique way of reacting to what other characters say and do.

46. When a script is boring, sometimes it means the writer is actually going through the scenes too fast. That is, the script is not really exploring the dramatic and emotional possibilities of a given situation — instead, the script is speeding past those possibilities to get to the next plot point. Sometimes a script gets more exciting when you slow down the scenes in order to milk every drop of potential drama from them (usually by introducing complications). Tarantino is a master of this.

47. Every dramatic moment in a script needs to be a pivot point in its own small story. With every detail, try to be telling a story with an intentional shape to it. Set-ups and payoffs and emotional consequences. Even if it’s a nameless henchman without any lines. First time we see him, he’s chewing on a toothpick, cleaning his weapon. Second time, he’s grinning and slipping his toothpick behind his ear taking aim during a shootout. Third time, we see him dead on the ground, his toothpick in the middle of a pool of his blood. That’s a tiny story. But braiding together these sorts of mini-stories — even without dialogue — will give your story texture and reality and emotional stakes.

48. Plots can be complicated but motivations need to be simple. No one should behave just to be a villain or a hero. Or just to prop up a cool, tricky plot. Every key decision a character makes needs to be grounded in real psychology and human emotions and simple motivations, even if the consequences of those actions end up creating endless complications.

49. The best villain to pit against a hero is usually someone who embodies some dark trait within that hero.

50. When you’re writing a scene emblematic of your chosen genre — a showdown in a western, or being locked in a house at night in a horror movie, etc — try to find ways to have mundane real life inconveniently intrude on the heightened cinematic situation. The serial killer in the horror movie has to go to the bathroom. One of the drivers of a high speed car chase has to fill up with gas, only to find out that his credit card has been declined. Think about the siege in Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs when one of the men trying to break into Dustin Hoffman’s house gets distracted by a tricycle and starts riding it. An overfamiliar cinematic situation can get more interesting the moment it starts going off-track.

51. A character is only as interesting as the quality of scenes they let you write. If your richly conceived character leads you to mostly write boring scenes, then they probably aren’t actually that great of a character.

52. In the opening scene of your script, your #1 job isn’t to lay the groundwork for a good story. Your #1 job in your opening scene is to write something interesting enough to capture a stranger's attention. In scene two, your #1 job is to intensify and reward that stranger’s attention. Same with scenes three, fourteen, sixty-nine, etc. (Bonus points, of course, if you happen to also be telling a good story at the same time in all of these scenes.)

53. The dramatic situation of each scene is the dance floor that's been built for the characters. This takes planning and forethought and structure. But the dialogue and interactions of the characters in the scene itself is the dance that takes place on that floor. Conceptualize and plan each dance floor. But leave room to feel and improvise the actual dance.

54. Details and information and cool shots and interesting dialoague are all only essential when they lead — directly or indirectly — to emotion.

55. Sometimes just one moment of unexpected truth can make a generic supporting character suddenly come alive.

56. Don’t write action scenes. Instead, write psychologically rich, effectively emotional character-and-relationship scenes that just happen to be violent.