Friday, October 22, 2010

Screenwriting on Steroids III

For the unfamiliar, a "reveal" in screenwriting parlance is the placement of key, revelatory information in a story. Most times, the last reveal is the most important revelation of all.


FADE IN:

INT. AUDITORIUM – STAGE – DAY

Apple CEO Steve Jobs addresses an audience of hardware & software professionals, and members of the I.T. press.

                  JOBS
             And so, if there’s one thing
             I could tell our competitors
             as they try desperately to
             meet our challenge with iPhone,
             it would be to say: "You're
             looking at it wrong. You're
             looking at it as a hardware
             person in a fragmented world.
             You're looking it as a hard-
             ware manufacturer that doesn't
             really know much about soft-
             ware, who doesn't think about
             an integrated product, but as-
             sumes the software will somehow
             take care of itself... And you
             assume that the software will
             somehow just come alive on this
             product that you're dreaming
             of, but it won't."

If there’s one thing I could say to people interested in becoming screenwriters, it would be something like that speech. Only I would change “software” to “stories,” and “hardware manufacturer” to “film studio.” It would go something like this:

                  Me
             You're looking at it wrong.
             You're looking at it as a film
             producer in a fragmented world.
             You're looking it as a film
             studio that doesn't really know
             much about stories, who doesn't
             think about an organically-satis-
             fying product, but assumes the
             story will somehow take care of
             itself... And you assume that the
             story will somehow just come alive
             in this production that you're
             dreaming of, but it won't.
   
But. It. Won’t.





All too often, Hollywood relies on the sort of thinking that results in choosing product that’s “just like” somebody else’s product; the sort of thinking that if one writer is good, more writers are better; that producing a re-make with “bigger bangs” will produce box-office with bigger bucks. This thinking ends up giving us films like that miserable attempt to re-make Robert Wise’s classic film, The Haunting (from Shirley Jackson’s novel, “The Haunting of Hill House”).

Carson over at ScriptShadow said it well when he recalled one of his experiences as a fledgling writer knocking on Hollywood’s door:

I remember first arriving in Los Angeles and lucking out with a meeting for a really terrible script I’d written. I’d bullshitted my way past some dumb people and gotten the script into the hands of a big agent, someone I had no business meeting with. It was the moment I realized you can trick some people, but you can’t trick the true professionals. Indeed, this gentleman told me straight up, “Your script is horrible.” He then proceeded to tell me that in order to separate myself from the glut of screenplays that land in agents and producers hands every day, you have to give the audience something they’ve never seen before. You had to give them a dinosaur theme park before there was Jurassic Park. You had to give them live-action anime before there was The Matrix.  

“you have to give the audience something they’ve never seen before”

Lateral thinking is a writer’s best avenue toward giving that audience “something they’ve never seen before.”

In this posting, I continue the discussion on Edward de Bono’s Lateral Thinking techniques and methods as they relate to story creation and screenwriting. If you haven’t read the earlier two posts, they are here and here. This material is excerpted from my forthcoming book, Lateral Screenwriting: Using the Power of Lateral Thinking to Write the Great American Movie.

Focus
“Focus” is, for de Bono, a powerful tool. He describes simple focus and specific focus, among others. Simple focus is a deliberate effort to choose a focus point. It requires a willingness to consider things that are not themselves demanding it. For writers this might enable them to generate sequences or settings in their stories that contribute to the story’s overall uniqueness. When Paul Schrader made American Gigolo, it came out of a class he taught in which Schrader was digging for a character’s job in a student’s script. He was reeling off occupations, “...is he this? Is he that?” and he mentioned as an example, a gigolo. Later, Schrader was thinking about a character’s inability to express love, and the gigolo notion came back to him. For Schrader, when a theme meets a metaphor capable of expressing that theme, he has his movie. As we will see, that corresponds to a concept to which we alluded earlier that we will borrow from the great Russian theorists. It’s a concept called, “The Collision of Ideas.”
For writers, using specific focus might enable them to generate elements or detail in their stories that make them unique and real. The writer has a series of scenes at a resort hotel. While unconcerned with the action of the story, the writer wants to make the hotel a real place. The writer chooses to make a list of things that happen or might happen at a resort hotel in a 24 hour period, or during a special event. The idea is to consider it deeply, to find things rarely associated with the location, but possible or likely on occasion. From these, the writer is able to assemble a background for the action of the story that is not composed of the same clich├ęs involving hotels we’ve all seen dozens of times.
Alfred Hitchcock and Ernest Lehman applied several examples of a kind of specific focus when Lehman sat down to write what became North by Northwest. Hitchcock said that he had lots of ideas for movies, but they were disconnected. He had always wanted to do a scene in an auction, for example. He had always wanted to do a chase across the faces on Mt. Rushmore. He had envisioned a scene in which a man was attacked by a crop duster. He always wanted to do a scene where someone is murdered at the U.N. in front of the “entire world.” He wanted to do a scene where we watch a car being built on an assembly line, from beginning to end, so that we see it from the assembly of the frame to the end of the line. Right at the end, someone opens the just-installed door and a dead body falls out. They managed to get all of these except the auto assembly scene into the film. Each of them was the result of a kind of specific focus Hitchcock brought to his art. They had become illegitimate orphans of prior writing sessions for earlier films. Because he and Lehman were trying to generate a story without, at this point, even a premise, the scenes finally found a home in this one. It became a matter of finding how to connect them all in a cohesive through-line. The rest is movie history.
 A lesser-known type of focus is something de Bono calls, General-Area-Type Focus. He makes the point that this type of focus is not well-known because “most people have been trained to think only in terms of a defined purpose or objective,” in other words, for problem-solving. He points out that this reduces the scope of creative thinking. So there’s a need for general-area-type focus.
 We might say:
“I want some new approaches to the spy film.”
“What are some new ideas for westerns?”
Because we are not focused on a specific task, this allows us to think widely, to consider ideas that have no special needs bringing them into our area of focus. There is no problem to solve, no hurdle to overcome. This type of focus also allows us to avoid programming the kind of answers we might generate. If we compare two similar creative needs this becomes clear:
“We need ideas on the ways spies go about their craft.”
“We need new ideas about spying.”
Because, in the first example, we are focused on the ways of spies, our thinking is limited to spying techniques and methods. But in the second example, with the more general focus, our thinking is opened up. Using that example allows us to consider all aspects of spying, including aspects of how reality intrudes on the life and work of a spy. This, in turn, perhaps leads us to consider a spy comedy or spoof in which we show all the aspects of a spy’s day that we are never shown in standard spy films. When spies go to the airport, they always get to park right in front of the terminal entrance. They always depart at mid-day and arrive at their destination at mid-day, too! They never have bags, unless it’s a briefcase with the “MacGuffin” (the thing everybody’s after) inside it. But our thinking allows us to look at the other side of spying, the side never shown. Here we can show the sheer frustrations they must go through as they go about their otherwise extraordinary day. They are forced to fly the “red-eye” flight at midnight. They get the parking spot out at the far edge of the airport parking structure. They lug bags to the terminal by hand. They have an urgent bathroom call before they can check the bags, so they pile them up outside the men’s room stall. They watch helplessly, sitting within, as an enemy agent goes through the bags, looking for the “secret” documents, etc., etc. So, we gain all of these sorts of possibilities simply by thinking more generally, rather than toward a specific goal.   
Another type of focus is Purpose Focus. This is focus directed at a target or goal. De Bono breaks up Purpose Focus into categories of Improvement, Problem Solving, Task, and Opportunity. In Improvement focus, we consider ways to improve pre-existing ideas or, in the case of story-telling, scenarios:
“We want some ideas to show how our character improved military tactics and won the campaign against overwhelming odds.”
“We want new ideas on how a young woman might find a good man without seeming too aggressive and turning him off.”
The category of Problem-Solving as applied to story development, might approach a scene or dilemma in a story, and look for alternatives to writing it the same old way, or toward writing it under circumstances that make it difficult. For example, one might ask, “What ways might a man be killed by someone?” Director, Alfred Hitchcock asked himself that during the preparation for Torn Curtain. He had two people in a house, unschooled in the arts of killing, who are forced to defend themselves with the means at hand against an attack by an East German agent. He settled on the man being dispatched in a kitchen by having his head forced into the gas oven.
During the conceptual phase for one of my screenplays, I asked myself the question, “In what ways might someone be chased across the country?” I ended up including a car, a motor-home, a motorcycle, a train, a hot air balloon, and a barrel over Niagara Falls!
With the category of Task, we are applying our thinking toward reaching a specific goal.
“We want an opening to our suspense thriller that introduces our hero, sets up the villain, and is exciting.”
“We want an alternative to the standard scare scene where our character meets the evil entity.”
I confronted the first example by starting a thriller I was writing with a chase scene in San Francisco, where a member of the Russian mob was eluding an entire army of federal agents led by the hero. The chase was full of close calls and narrow escapes. It runs for almost ten minutes, culminating at the Golden Gate Bridge. There the hero and the other federal agents corner the Russian at the middle of the bridge. He is trapped. Then he seems to have seen something. Rather than be taken, almost nonchalantly, he chooses to jump, and it looks like our hero will lose him and his link to the entire Russian organization. But as their eyes follow him down, dropping toward the water, they see that a cruise ship is directly underneath him, and he drops into the swimming pool on the ship’s highest deck. After a tremendous splash, he surfaces, looks up at his pursuers, and waves, having gotten away again.
In the second case, in my screenplay set in and around a small town and the old movie palace (The Jupe), I needed a scene in which the mother in my story’s family is almost killed by the entity inhabiting the theater. I recalled that an old ghost story called The Changeling (the 1980 film) had made some of the audience laugh when the hero, George C. Scott, was chased by an evil wheelchair. The operative question was, “What’s it gonna do when it catches him?” And I recalled the old mummy movies where the able-bodied woman and hero were chased by the mummy, dragging his foot behind him, sidling along, somehow nonetheless, able to gain on them. I didn’t want absurdities or too-clever ideas to cloud my thinking as I tried to devise a scene that was truly eerie, truly frightening. Ultimately, I think I succeeded: my mother character was alone and asleep in her bed, her husband gone. The entity inhabiting the theater has begun to manifest physically in various increasingly odd and fantastic ways. In this instance, as she sleeps in the utterly silent house, several blocks from the theater, her door is open slightly, and a long, dark shape seems to enter the room at floor level. It approaches. A snake? We can’t tell. As it gets to the foot of her bed, it raises up and starts to stream up and onto the comforter, finally allowing us to see it. What is it? Film, streaming from a reel at the door, brought, perhaps by one of the things inhabiting the theater. It moves toward her, just like a snake. Behind, it extends down, across the floor, and out the door to the reel. It reaches her head, and slips under her neck, as she continues to sleep. Coming up, it winds around and back under, encircling her neck in loops of itself. She continues to sleep unaware... So, we see how we are able to create new approaches to familiar set pieces.      
In the fourth category, Opportunity, we have some element or factor that we can take advantage of with the right idea. I was once asked by a producer for a story designed to fit a location to which he had access. It was a closed-up mental institution. I wrote a treatment for a story about a group of students from a neighboring college that has just acquired the closed institution. The students have gone in to decorate the place for a dedication ceremony and party, only to be locked in and haunted by the ghosts of the former residents. This is an example of purpose focus utilizing opportunity, the location to which the producer had gained access.
Provocation
Provocation is a tool used to “provoke” ideas. Edward de Bono uses it to influence various lateral thinking techniques. Provocations are statements that when considered and “moved from” lead to useful ideas. Except in special cases such as in stories of the fantastic, they are not the usable ideas themselves. In fact, they are almost always absurd or impossible, in and of themselves. This is because they are by nature, “extra-experiential,” or out of our experience. As a tool, provocation offers the opportunity for “hindsight justification” for an idea which might otherwise make no sense. In the parlance of mathematics, it is a deliberate effort to introduce instability into a self-organizing system. De Bono describes provocation as, “With a provocation there may not be a reason for saying something until after it has been said.” Since self-organizing systems such as stories work within the laws of logic and causality, the introduction of an extra-logical, extra-causal provocation can have profound effects upon the system.
It might be said, for example, that all of science fiction, fantasy, and horror literature functions through the deliberate use of provocation. The story proceeds “vertically” following a logical and causal path like any story. But a provocation is introduced, and this then leads to the introduction of an element such as time travel, magic, or lycanthropy. Voila´, the literature of the fantastic! 
De Bono illustrates his concept of provocation by depicting a road where, along its length, a side road joins at an angle, forming a sideways “Y.” He describes a standard causal path moving along the main road, past the side road (there’s a “No Left Turn” sign). Then he interrupts the forward movement with a “provocation,” an idea that “does not exist in our experience,” lying, in fact, outside it. Using the presence of the provocation—depicted as occupying a position between the main road and the diagonal side-road branching from it (in the crook of the “Y”), we then are able to leap to the side-road, and, in effect, open up the side road as a new idea, making it now part of the world of the main road.
How might this work? Let’s say we have a story in which a character is killed at some point in the narrative (our “main road”). However, if he is killed earlier, it would benefit our hero far more than if he were killed when the story dictates. Since benefiting our hero is NOT the stuff of escalating tension, nor good drama, it would serve the tale much more if he died as the story intends. But now, we introduce the provocation: “he dies twice” (i.e., outside the patterns of our experience, since one can’t die twice). The hero is benefitted. We, as the audience, are lulled. But if, from the use of this provocation we now add the idea (side road) that the earlier killing was of someone else, someone who only looked like the character, we can, in effect, kill the character twice. And from this, our drama is effectively supercharged when it is eventually revealed that the first killing was someone else, and our hero is threatened, now, by someone whom he believed was already dead.
De Bono shows that this new idea (the person we thought to be the character dying early, later to be shown it was someone else) is perfectly logical, perfectly supportable within the self-organizing story. Yet it was arrived at through non-logical means in the form of the provocation, “dying twice.” So this then becomes his hindsight justification, something he points out is every bit as valid as any other form of justification.
Why would we employ such means to affect our story, in effect, jumping backwards in story time? Aside from the dramatic value gained by the introduction of the idea of dying twice, it is the only way we can open the story up and gain the use of that side road. Provocation can help us to escape the artifice of a story world whose boundaries are limited to that main road. So provocation is a primary tool, and de Bono gives it its due by introducing a new word, Po, for “Provocative Operation,” indicating that something extraordinary (outside our experience) is being introduced to the system.
Ex. – “Po, the character dies twice.”
Provocations must be set up, to have a reason for being. De Bono describes one method for this that he calls the escape method, by explaining how we take for granted many things.
 We take for granted that New York cabs have drivers.
Po, New York cabs don’t have drivers.
This, in turn leads to the idea that cabs could be driven by the customer and left at the destination. This could work if a customer could use an access code purchased via subscription and the cab only operated within a certain range—thanks to a wireless connection—from its base. Another subscriber could then take it where it was left, repeating the process. So, in this variation, the lateral thinker escapes from the problem posed by the assumption taken for granted.
And how might this work in storytelling? In the comedy-thriller film Grosse Pointe Blank, a professional assassin, played by writer/director/actor, John Cusack, goes to his high school reunion. One method for arriving at a concept such as this might be through setting up an escape method provocation:
We take for granted that professional killers never went to high school.
Po, hit-men went to high school.
This, then, leads us to the off-the-wall idea of an assassin attending his class reunion.
Another method for setting up provocations is called the stepping-stone method. This is illustrated by the example of crossing a stream by first throwing a stone into the middle and then stepping on it. You then step from it onto the opposite side. So it is a pair of operations to arrive at a solution. My example from Screenwriting on Steroids I of using the test drive of a truck to return a large object to the store could be arrived at via a stepping stone type of provocation:
Po, you return the item in a truck you don’t have.
This leads to finding a truck (the stepping stone) by posing as a prospective buyer so that you can use it during the test drive (getting to the other side of the stream).
Ultimately, when it comes to story creation, provocation is a tool that can very often be used, effectively in its raw state, without the ideas they are meant to provoke. They become the ideas, themselves. Many stories, particularly fantastic stories, can contain impossibilities. Provocations can supply them.          
Movement
Edward de Bono considers movement “central to the whole of creativity.” “Without movement,” he says, “there is no sense in using provocation.” Movement is the process of using provocation to get to usable ideas. It requires a sufficiently open mind to allow for ideas to appear once the provocation is considered. Using movement with provocation is the most extreme form of movement. Movement can also be used to move forward from a weak idea to a strong one, from a suggestion to a concrete idea, or from a concept to an idea. But it must be used with a willingness to avoid judgment, as that is how creativity differs from standard thinking. It allows for the lack of judgment in order to get to a solution that could not be reached any other way.
De Bono identifies five techniques that can be used to get movement or go from an impossible provocation to a usable idea. The first involves extracting a principle from the provocation.
Po, a person can see the spirits of the dead.
Principles might include:


---The dead want to come back.


---The person doesn’t want this ability.


--The dead want to talk to the living through the person.


---The dead can finish business left undone in life through the person.
---From these we might extract the third principle and from that develop a television show. We might call it Ghost Whisperer.
Or we might extract the fourth principle and from that and write a movie called The Sixth Sense.
The next technique is called, Focus on the difference. The lateral thinker compares the provocation to the original idea or way of doing things. Each difference is then examined to see whether it leads to an interesting idea.
For example:
Po, samurai and gunfighters are identical.
A difference might be:
Samurai are warriors of one lord; gunfighters are free agents.
This leads to asking, what if a samurai and a gunfighter had to work together? From that comes the premise for the film, Red Sun, starring Toshiro Mifune and Charles Bronson.
Moment to moment is the third technique de Bono describes, suggesting that it may be the most powerful of the techniques of movement. Here we imagine the provocation being put into practice, even if impossible in the real world, and we examine it, then, operating “moment to moment.” Consider the following:
Po, a young boy must survive spending Christmas alone at home, after his family leaves him there by mistake.
We imagine the boy doing it, moment to moment, examining how it might go. From this comes the very successful franchise of Home Alone movies. Notice, also, how similar the provocation is to a potential “logline” for the movie. Loglines can sometimes serve for provocations.
The fourth technique de Bono calls positive aspects. The provocation, itself, is examined for any benefits or “positive aspects.” Working from the provocation, then, we extrapolate aspects implied to see if any ideas suggest themselves. For example:
Po, soldiers convicted of capital crimes prefer a suicide mission during wartime over staying in prison.
The positive aspects of this might include:


---Amnesty should they survive a successful mission.


---A welcome release from prison life.


---Escape from a fate they feel is worse.


---They might be able to escape while on the mission.


---They can kill again, something from which they get pleasure.
And out of these we get the premise for The Dirty Dozen.
Circumstances completes de Bono’s roster of techniques for using movement. He asks, “Under what circumstances would this provocation have a direct value?” We want to make a movie about kids and a student newspaper, but nothing suggests itself. Kid’s newspapers don’t really cover “hard” news. We consider a provocation:
Po, reporters for a high school newspaper break a major hard news story.
From this comes the idea of adapting His Girl Friday to the circumstances of a student newspaper.  
Concepts
Lateral thinking as explored and formalized by de Bono is related to the left brain world of business. Indeed, it is discussed throughout his works in terms applicable to all forms of business and even society. It is true, he uses lots of examples to illustrate specific cases, but these examples span the length and breadth of human civilization. Storytelling, and specifically the art, craft, and process of screenwriting is more focused. Some of de Bono’s tools and techniques can be less applicable to such specific uses.
When it comes to his tool, Concepts, this may be the case. Most times, the writer already has an idea of his essential story concept. The writer can start in many ways: from character, situation, milieu, issue, irony, or concept (among others). In my case, it is done almost always from concept. I have observed many other writers claiming that more often than not, they start from character.
De Bono considers concept to be vague, nonspecific, blurry. He also sees concepts as existing on multiple levels from the most general to highly specific, from making a profit, through selling luxury items, to selling gold-plated pencils, and every level between. So he leaves the lateral-thinker-to-be the task of figuring out which level within a range of concepts is the right one at which to work. De Bono’s notion of concept is one at which the practitioner tries to become more effective. And he does this by recommending they break concepts into categories such as Purpose, Mechanism, Value, and Descriptive in order to home in on the specific need.
For writers, other than at the earliest stages of development, they already have their concept in mind. One approach de Bono’s work advocates is taking a concept from its most general and reducing it to the specific level at which it just feels right, and then working from there to address the need at hand. But needs, as applied to story concepts, except at the most rudimentary writer levels, don’t usually enter into it. In such cases, the writer may want the story to be more this or more that, and de Bono’s approach would then tell that writer to pull back and find a more general level of the concept so that they can re-direct it onto a more appropriate story path. In other cases, the writer might do the same thing in order to jump to another genre. For example, The Seven Samurai went from feudal Japan to American western with The Magnificent Seven, then to interplanetary adventure with Battle Beyond The Stars, and then to animated bug movie with A Bug’s Life. So, while de Bono’s notion of concept can be applicable to storytellers in search of their concept, it offers little else for writers.
I’ll return to the subject in a future post taking de Bono’s ideas and describing methods I’ve devised specifically for story creation and screenwriting. And in the months ahead I will return to the subject of Lateral Screenwriting with further excerpts from my book, Lateral Screenwriting: Using the Power of Lateral Thinking to Write the Great American Movie. #
FADE OUT
Lee A. Matthias
Quotes of the Post:
The important thing in science is not so much to obtain new facts as to discover new ways of thinking about them.
---Sir William Bragg
Creativity is the power to connect the seemingly unconnected.
---William Plomer
Art and science have their meeting point in method.
---Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Screenwriting on Steroids II

For the unfamiliar, a "reveal" in screenwriting parlance is the placement of key, revelatory information in a story. Most times, the last reveal is the most important revelation of all.




FADE IN:

EXT. SEATTLE, WA – DAY

A TOTEM POLE.

SHIFT to REVEAL the SPACE NEEDLE.

SOUNDS (OS) of a CROWD and a MARCHING BAND.

PEOPLE surround a WOMAN TELEVISION REPORTER (LEE CARTER). Everyone but Carter watches the parade. Carter looks directly into CAM.

                  CARTER
             We have Senator Carroll
             with us today to celebrate
             Independence Day, and he is
             an independent politician.
             In fact, so independent that
             some say they don’t know
             which party he does belong
             to.

A MAN, AUSTIN TUCKER, comes into VIEW.

                  CARTER
             Austin Tucker. ...Austin’s
             with us today as a political
             advisor to Senator Carroll.
             Austin, we hear our people
             say that there are some pos-
             sibilities that you want to
             get the nomination for Sena-
             tor Carroll.

                  TUCKER
             Oh, well, I think we’re jump-
             ing the gun, there, Miss Car-
             ter--

                  CARTER
             --Austin--

                  TUCKER
             --He’s not running for any
             office. He’s concentrating on
             the one that he has now.

An ASIAN MARCHING GROUP passes, followed by a WAGON with SENATOR CARROLL and his WIFE.

                  CARTER (OS)
             Here comes Senator Carroll and
             Mrs. Carroll. He really looks
             terrific.

Senator Carroll, wearing a FIRE HAT, and Mrs. Carroll, roll
forward.

                  CARROLL
                (holding a MIC)
             Happy 4th of July, everybody,
             happy Independence Day for us
             all. Thank you.
               

                  CARTER
             He is the ideal father of his
             own kids, the ideal husband,
             if you’re old enough. And he’s
             the ideal leader of our country
             if you’re any age, so says Aus-
             tin Tucker.

                  CARROLL
             Uhhh, yes, Lee, how are you?

                  CARTER
             Senator Carroll, just fine,
             thank you. Welcome to our city.
             How do you do?
                (to Mrs. Carroll)
             How are you? You all look just
             as wonderful as in your photo-
             graphs. How do you manage that?
             Always smiling.

WE SEE JOE FRADY in B.G. In F.G. Austin listens.

                  CARROLL
             Well, I’ll tell you. We’re very
             Happy to greet smiling faces,
             and I’m happy to be with my con-
             stituents on such a wonderful
             day. Thank you very much, every-
             body.

The Band plays “Oh, When the Saints go marching in,” as Carroll and his wife go into the SPACE NEEDLE.

INT. SPACE NEEDLE – ENTRANCE

Joe Frady is stopped at the door by a GUARD as Carroll goes through. Lee Carter follows.,

                   FRADY
                (to Guard)
             I’m with her.

                   GUARD
             Ma’am, is he with you?

                   CARTER
             No.

EXT. SPACE NEEDLE.

The Elevator rises up the shaft of the huge structure.

INT. SPACE NEEDLE – RESTAURANT

It’s noisy (OS). Ushered through by a SECURITY GUARD, Senator Carroll and his wife mix. He sees someone (ED) he knows.

                  CARROLL
             Ed, how are you, sir?

                  ED
             Good to see you.

                  CARROLL
             You’re looking very good, Ed.
             Thanks for helping me today.
                (turns)
             Hello, how are you?

One of the WAITERS (WAITER 1) watches him.

EXT. OBSERVATION DECK.

Tucker talks to Carter.

                  TUCKER
             ...and I know a little bit
             about your background...

A WAITER (WAITER 2) hands a TRAY to Waiter 1.

                  TUCKER (CONT’D)
             ...your lovely family—
               (to Waiter 1)
             --I’ll have scotch and water.

Senator Carroll knocks on the WINDOW from inside. Tucker and Carter look. Carroll picks up a MIC.

                  CARROLL (OS)
             Ladies and gentlemen, my wife,
             Kit and I, we thank you very
             much for inviting us here today,
             this Independence Day. Indepen-
             dence Day is very meaningful to
             me because sometimes I’ve been
             called too independent for my
             own good.

TWO SHOTS are heard, and Carroll is hit. Blood spatters the glass as Tucker and Carter look on.

INT. RESTAURANT

A shooter, Waiter 2, holds a pistol. 


Waiter 1 puts what appears to be a GUN in his jacket.

EXT. SPACE NEEDLE – ROOF




Waiter 2 climbs on the roof. He is chased by a SECURITY GUARD, and then TWO OTHERS. They reach him and a struggle begins.






He falls and, with a SCREAM, rolls over the edge.

INT. RESTAURANT

Through the glass, Carter is stunned.

EXT. SEATTLE – DOWNTOWN – TWILIGHT

Waiter 1 looks at the Space Needle on the horizon, then turns and MOVES OUT OF FRAME.

(Transcription by The Last Reveal of the final film of The Parallax View.)


If you haven't read Screenwriting on Steroids I, click here.

In this post I will lay out the general approach that can be taken when using lateral thinking as described by Edward de Bono. In a following post, I’ll relate his ideas to story creation and screenwriting. First, here is an excerpt from my forthcoming book, Lateral Screenwriting: Using the Power of Lateral Thinking to Write the Great American Movie:

For a complete understanding and explanation of Edward de Bono’s tools and techniques, I strongly recommend de Bono’s books, and in particular, Lateral Thinking, The Six Thinking Hats, and Serious Creativity. While de Bono can come off heavy-handed and proprietary at times, dull and pedantic at others, there is no denying his contribution to understanding the thinking process and creativity. As applied to screenwriting and storytelling, the tools and techniques described in his books are more general than those I offer for story creation and screenwriting, as they are designed for all manner of business, corporate, and societal application, all manner of situation and need. Some of de Bono’s methods are best practiced in group settings. But, then, some writing is, too.
The larger question, however, is “why de Bono?” That is a very important question, because de Bono advocates a fundamental change to the western thought process. He lays it out quite well in this article entitled, Away with the Gang of Three published in The Guardian, January 25, 1997, and later on de Bono’s website. In essence, he believes that humanity would be much farther ahead had it gotten past certain formal thinking practices rooted in ideas put forth in ancient Greece, and later embraced during the Renaissance. He urges adoption of notions that he has formalized in his books, and believes such adoption is vital to human progress, especially at this time in its development.
Much of his thinking, if applied here and now to screenwriting and story-creation, would result in a far different book than the one you have in your hands. The problem, however, would be that it would not apply to the existing world marketplace for stories. For that to happen, the market would have had to change first, or in parallel with, story-creation. So, while we might, idealistically, advocate for doing away with certain notions of story construction, we would be writing stories that would have little or no practical market.
Some may disagree and desire to take story in the direction to which de Bono’s thinking points. I applaud them (you?) and urge that it begin now. Story, as is, has hit a threshold: it is struggling to maintain position. That is why we hear such complaints as, “There are no new stories, everything’s been done!”
Now, we have, in this space, heard from writer/director Paul Schrader when he echoed others, saying “All plots have been done.” Indeed, Georges Polti’s book, The Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations, signaled it nearly a century ago! Georges Polti reduced stories to 36 recurring variations. Others reduce the number to as few as (what else?) three:
“Other common narrative themes reveal our basic wants and needs. ‘Narrative involves agents pursuing some goal,’ says Patrick Colm Hogan, professor of English and Comparative Literature at the University of Connecticut. ‘The standard goals are partially a result of how our emotion systems are set up.’
“Hogan does not consider himself a literary Darwinist, but his research on everything from Hindu epic poems such as the Ramayana to modern film adaptations of Shakespeare supports the idea that stories reveal something about human emotions seated in the mind. As many as two thirds of the most respected stories in narrative traditions seem to be variations on three narrative patterns, or prototypes, according to Hogan. The two more common prototypes are romantic and heroic scenarios—the former focuses on the trials and travails of love, whereas the latter deals with power struggles. The third prototype, dubbed ‘sacrificial’ by Hogan, focuses on agrarian plenty versus famine as well as on societal redemption. These themes appear over and over again as humans create narrative records of their most basic needs: food, reproduction and social status.” - Scientific American magazine, September, 2008, published online: The Secrets of Storytelling: Why We Love a Good Yarn, Our love for telling tales reveals the workings of the mind, by Jeremy Hsu.
But we have also, in this space, heard from UCLA Graduate Screenwriting Program Chair, Richard Walter, that he doesn’t “…believe we've scratched the surface of available plots. There are infinite new plots.” This difference is probably an issue of terms, the rhetoric: Schrader, Polti, and Hogan talk about story or plot “types,” considering story plots in general terms, scenarios of human striving. Walter keeps to the particular, scenario minutia. He finds infinite variety in the details within the stories told, and the variety of ways writers tell them.
The Schrader/Polti/Hogan faction look at story commonalities. Walter looks at the differences. Walter’s is a writer’s perspective, the story creator’s position. His opposites consider it from the consumer side.
For purposes of lateral story conception, in the early stages, we must approach it from that consumer side. Later, we can consider it in detail and so, from the story creator side. So let’s consider it from the former viewpoint first, if for no other reason than to understand why Hollywood does what it does. Studios and producers are not story generators. They are stories’ first audience, they are its first consumers. They pre-judge stories’ suitability for audiences. So, there are…  
“…no new stories…” That is why Hollywood film studios desperately re-make even bad television shows! From Hollywood’s perspective, viable new ideas are in short supply. Having come into contact with de Bono’s ideas about western thinking, and seeing their worth to story-creation, I am faced with a choice: apply them to what is, or apply them to what could be. In the former, we have a chance to improve story creation going forward. With the latter, we risk speaking to that proverbial “empty room.” As has de Bono with his techniques for business, I have chosen the more pragmatic path, the state of story creation as it is now. I look ahead to their application to what story creation might become, but intend to focus our thinking here to the realities of today. As a result I build my ideas off of notions rooted in the classic Greek thinking of Aristotle. Make no mistake: In doing so, I am not advocating for its primacy over the potential pointed to by de Bono in his “Gang of Three” essay; rather, my intention is to subvert it by infiltrating de Bono’s concepts into, around, and beyond Aristotle. My intention, in effect, is to energize what is already underway with screenwriting theorists worldwide: the laying of a foundation for traditional western narrative’s enlargement.
We can summarize de Bono’s primary Lateral Thinking techniques, applied to screenwriting, as follows:


·         Random Entry – In which one randomly selects an object, or a noun from a dictionary, and associates it with the subject, concept, or story idea.


·         Provocation – A method of provoking alternatives to the obvious story solutions that suggest themselves by escaping the boundaries imposed by logic or causality.


·         Challenge – Where a standard scenario, pattern of dialogue, or behavioral, narrative, or cinematic trope is challenged for alternatives, regardless of whether there is a need.


·         Suspension of JudgmentAllowing for non-causal or non-logical elements or patterns to be introduced to the narrative construction.


·         Generation of Alternatives - The creation of a body of alternative ideas, concepts, or solutions, regardless of need, to enrich the spectrum of possibilities available.





One of the greatest assets of employing lateral thinking techniques such as these is that the introduction of such non-causal, random, or even non-logical elements have the effect of paralleling or mimicking real life. Just as life always has random and unrelated events occurring around us at all times, the introduction of such elements can render the world far more realistically than can a completely writer-designed, vertical plot. The use of lateral techniques in story creation makes for stories having that elusive quality, verisimilitude, the “ring” of “truth.” 
In Lateral Screenwriting, I will be adapting these and other tools and techniques for screenwriting.
I should note that various identical results can be arrived at through any (or many/some) of the techniques equally. In other words, one writer could arrive at an idea, concept, or solution via one technique, while another arrives at the same result using another technique. Lateral thinking isn’t mathematics. It isn’t restricted to classic empiricism. It is fuzzy in that way. The techniques are just various ways to get to what could be similar results for any particular goal. Therefore, the practitioner is urged to find the techniques with which he is most comfortable, and not consider them to be specific tools for specific and separate results. The tools, more than any other benefit, are intended to spark the brain’s own systems, to open up the pathways that might have been closed or dormant, and by being re-opened, to offer new results. The brain isn’t concerned with whether tool-A was used over technique-3. The brain takes over once the idea is glimpsed, anyway, so the tool at that point should be forgotten. The result is the important thing. So, the reader should not be troubled with some formal association of tools and techniques to various types of results.
Finally, it should be pointed out (as has de Bono in his books), that lateral thinking techniques do not work every time and in every situation. They do, however, offer a vastly wider range of possibilities for the generation of ideas. And, inevitably, by the end, they can be expected to offer any given work something of use virtually every time. They do, however, require that an effort be put forward. But, with use, they have been proven to pay that effort back again and again.
In the next post, I will relate some of the techniques and methods of de Bono’s lateral thinking to story creation in general, and screenwriting in particular. #
FADE OUT
Lee A. Matthias
Quotes of the post:
I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it.
---Terry Pratchett
One only needs two tools in life: WD-40 to make things go, and duct tape to make them stop.
---G. Weilacher
If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.
            ---Abraham H. Maslow