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Be interested to see if this takes off. This is Script Club for extracts, if you like.
We all know that if you wanna be a good writer, you have to be a good reader. You have to read widely, and you have to read analytically, dissecting what you read rather than just taking it in. It's so important to read pro scripts regularly and with your writing brain switched on, looking at what does and doesn't work.
With that in mind, I thought people could flag up examples of great pro writing. Writing that makes them go, "Wow! I should be doing THAT!" Note that I'm not talking about dialogue; that's a separate skill. I'm talking about action, description, the establishment of tone -- just little nuggets of writing that jump out at you or suck you in. Whether it's a character introduction, set piece or a detail that really makes the scene "pop" (as Babz would say), stick it here so that we can all benefit from it. Explain what you think is so great, and see if others agree.
I'll go first. I've got two examples -- one is an opening scene, the other the greatest wrylie I've ever read in any script.
1. The Opening to BATMAN, by Sam Hamm
This is probably the best opening description in anything I've read ever. A whole world and tone established in a few lines...and then a little sneak peek of the title character.
EXT. CITYSCAPE - NIGHT
The place is Gotham City. The time, 1987 -- once removed.
The city of Tomorrow: stark angles, creeping shadows, dense, crowded, airless, a random tangle of steel and concrete, self-generating, almost subterranean in its aspect...as if hell had erupted through the sidewalks and kept on growing. A dangling fat moon shines overhead, ready to burst.
EXT. CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Amid the chrome and glass sits a dark and ornate Gothic anomaly: old City Cathedral, once grand, now abandoned -- long since boarded up and scheduled for demolition.
On the rooftop far above us, STONE GARGOYLES gaze down from their shadowy, windswept perches, keeping monstrous watch over the distant streets below, sightless guardians of the Gotham night.
One of them is moving.
2. A wrylie from PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL by Ted Elliott & Terry Russio
You want brevity? This is it. It's a long wrylie (it even has punctuation in it, for goodness' sake), but it transforms the dialogue into something else entirely, and creates a laugh on the page where there might not have been one. It also says a lot about the character -- all that from five words. I'll give it a slight run-up; this extract comes from the end of the sword-fight in the blacksmith's between Will and Jack.
Jack uses his full weight, yanks the sword from the ceiling. Hurls a wooden mallet at Will, then a second, hitting Will on the wrist. Will drops his sword, falls down, gets up --
Jack's pistol is aimed directly between Will's eyes.
Will steps back, directly in front of the back exit. Glares, rubs his wrist gently.
WILL You cheated.
JACK (smiles; what did you expect?) Pirate.
------
Well, that's my first two. Anyone else got any? If not, I'll come back with more.
One of my favorites -- William Goldman -- with all of his annoying CUT TO:'s and unfilmables and asides and parentheticals -- but the man can tell a story.
Don't take his format, but absorb his style as we watch this pivotal sword fight from one of my favorite scripts, Princess Bride
(note: copy and paste from html might be messy; so weird spacing might be my fault; think I corrected most of it, though)
Quoted from William Goldman, Princess Bride
THE TWO OF THEM
And what we are starting now is one of the two greatest sword fights in modern movies (the other one happens later on), and right from the beginning it looks different.
Because they aren't close to each other -- none of the swords-crossing "en garde" garbage.
No, what we have here is two men, two athletes, and they look to be too faraway to damage each other, but each time one makes even the tiniest feint, the other counters, and there is silence, and as they start to circle --
THE SIX-FINGERED SWORD,
feinting here, feinting there and --
THE TWO MEN,
finished teasing, begin to duel in earnest.
Their swords cross, then again, again, and the sound comes so fast it's almost continual. Inigo presses on, the Man In Black retreating up a rocky incline.
INIGO (thrilled) You're using Bonetti's defense against me, ah?
MAN IN BLACK I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain --
INIGO Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capo Ferro --
And he shifts his style now.
MAN IN BLACK (coping as best he can) -- naturally -- (suddenly shifting again) --but I find Thibault cancels out Capo Ferro, don't you?
The Man In Black is now perched at the edge of the elevated castle ruin. No where to go, he jumps to the sand. Inigo stares down at him.
INIGO Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa-
And now, with the grace of an Olympian, Inigo flies off the perch, somersaults clean over the Man In Black's head, and lands facing his opponent.
INIGO -- which I have.
The two men are almost flying across the rocky terrain, never losing balance, never coming close to stumbling; the battle rages with incredible finesse, first one and then the other gaining the advantage, and by now, it's clear that this isn't just two athletes going at it, it's a lot more that that. This is two legendary swashbucklers and they're in their prime, it's Burt Lancaster in "The Crimson Pirate" battling Errol Flynn in "Robin Hood" and then, incredibly, the action begins going even faster than before as we
CUT TO: INIGO.
And behind him now, drawing closer all the time, is the deadly edge of the Cliffs of Insanity. Inigo fights and ducks and feints and slashes and it all works, but not for long, as gradually the Man In Black keeps the advantage, keeps forcing Inigo back, closer and closer to death.
INIGO (happy as a clam) You are wonderful!
MAN IN BLACK Thank you -- I've worked hard to become so.
The Cliff edge is very close now. Inigo is continually being forced toward it.
INIGO I admit it -- you are better than I am.
MAN IN BLACK Then why are you smiling?
Inches from defeat, Inigo is, in fact, all smiles.
INIGO Because I know something you don't know.
MAN IN BLACK And what is that?
INIGO I am not left-handed.
And he throws the six-fingered sword into his right hand and immediately, the tide of battle turns.
CUT TO: THE MAN IN BLACK,
stunned, doing everything be can to keep Inigo by the Cliff edge. But no use. Slowly at first, he begins to retreat. Now faster, Inigo is in control and the Man In Black is desperate.
CUT TO: INIGO.
And the six-fingered sword is all but invisible now, as he increases his attack, then suddenly switches styles again.
CUT TO:
A ROCKY STAIRCASE leading to a turret-shaped plateau, and the Man In Black is retreating like mad up the steps and he can't stop Inigo -- nothing can stop Inigoo -- and in a frenzy, the Man In Black makes every feint, tries every thrust, lets go with all he has left. But he fails. Everything fails. He tries one or two final desperate moves but they are nothing.
MAN IN BLACK You're amazing!
INIGO I ought to be after twenty years.
And now the Man In Black is smashed into a stone pillar, pinned there under the six fingered sword.
MAN IN BLACK (hollering it out) There's something I ought to tell you.
INIGO Tell me.
MAN IN BLACK I am not left-handed either.
And now he changes hands, and at last, the battle is fully joined.
CUT TO: INIGO.
And to his amazement, he is being forced back down the steps. He tries one style, another, but it all comes down to the same thing -- the Man In Black seems to be in control. And before Inigo knows it, the six-fingered sword is knocked clear out of his hand.
Inigo retreats, dives from the stairs to a moss-covered bar suspended over the archway. He swings out, lands, and scrambles to his sword and we
CUT TO: THE MAN IN BLACK
who watches Inigo, then casually tosses his sword to the landing where it sticks in perfectly. Then the Man In Black copies INIGO. Not copies exactly, improves. He dives to the bar, swings completely over it like a circus performer and dismounts with a 9.7 backflip.
CUT TO: INIGO,
staring in awe.
INIGO Who are you?!
MAN IN BLACK No one of consequence.
INIGO I must know.
MAN IN BLACK Get used to disappointment.
INIGO Okay.
CUT TO: INIGO,
moving like lightning, and he thrusts forward, slashes, darts back, all in almost a single movement and --
CUT TO: THE MAN IN BLACK.
Dodging, blocking, and again he thrusts forward, faster even than before, and again he slashes but --
CUT TO: INIGO.
And there is never a move anyone makes he doesn't remember, and this time he blocks the slash, slashes out himself with the six-fingered sword.
On it goes, back and forth across the rocky terrain, Inigo's feet moving with the grace and speed of a great improvisational dancer.
CUT TO: THE SIX-FINGERED SWORD
as it is knocked free, arching up into the air, and -- CUT TO:
INIGO
catching it again. And something terrible is written behind his eyes: he has given his all, done everything man can do, tried every style, made every maneuver, but it wasn't enough, and on his face for all to see is the realization that he, Inigo Montoya of Spain, is going to lose.
CUT TO: THE MAN IN BLACK, moving in for the end now, blocking everything, muzzling everything and
CUT TO: THE SIX-FINGERED SWORD,
sent flying from Inigo's grip. He stands helpless only a moment. Then be drops to his knees, bows his head, shuts his eyes.
INIGO Kill me quickly.
MAN IN BLACK I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either --
And he dunks Inigo's head with his heavy sword handle. Inigo pitches forward unconscious.
MAN IN BLACK Please understand, I hold you in the highest respect.
I started reading "Goliath" yesterday, it's a spec script that sold this year. An action take on David & Goliath's tale. Some of the best writing I've seen in a long time. Here's the opening:
Code
No fade in. No credits. Just a sickening CRUNCH of bones as--
A BODY
Hits the ground. A crowd ROARS! CHAINED SLAVES haul the
hulking corpse out of the pit, feet dragging through a bloody
sludge adorned with severed digits, out into the--
EXT. DESERT - DAY - 1000 B.C.
--and heave it into a MASS GRAVE. A pile of corpses wearing
crude gladiatorial armor. Some still twitch, bleary-eyed,
staring up at the circling buzzards. This is a place of death.
Another highlight to chuck in, partly because I know it's potentially contentious. As in, you'll say it's rubbish.
I love a character introduction that instantly forms the character in your mind, beyond just between they look like. Not a rambling description of everything they're wearing, or a whole life story -- just a complete character sketch in a handful of words. Telling interaction with their surroundings is good, too; done right, we can know exactly who this person is in a matter of seconds.
In that vein, this is the example I offer up; it's from THE CHILDREN OF MEN, by Alfonso Cuaron & Timothy J. Sexton (filmed as Children of Men). Context: no child has been born for 18 years, the world's gone to shit, and the youngest human left has just been killed. The setting is a cafe in London, where the news of the youngest human's death is playing on repeat.
A man enters the coffee shop, making his way through the people: THEO FARON (55). Detached, unkempt, scruffy beard, glasses, Theo is a veteran of hopelessness. He gave up before the world did.
TV VOICE [Ricardo] was born in 2005, the son of Marcello and Sandra Ricardo, a working class couple from Buenos Aires...
Theo wedges his way to the counter. He orders:
THEO Coffee. Black.
Next to him, a 50-year-old woman stares up at the TV, cradling a small dog, tears rolling down her face. Theo waits, glancing at the old plasma TV without much interest.
Funny this should come up as this past couple of days I have been catching up on some scripts that have been on my "to read" list for a while and one of them was "The Voices" from last years Black List. Anyway once I have read a script I often like to search out someone elses opinion of it too, so yesterday I found a little article discussing one of the scenes from The Voices and thought it was an interesting take and one that had not occurred to me.
Quoted Text
EXT. WOODS – TWILIGHT
Long shadows and a light rain makes the woods look radically different from the last time Jerry was here. He carefully makes his way down the edge of the ravine, and then stumbles on something. He looks down.
Katie’s hand sticks out from under a pile of leaves. It’s discolored and swollen except her manicure, which is perfect.
He brushes leaves off of her; she’s been outside nearly three days and is swollen, gooey and stinky. Further, some woods animal has started eating her stomach, none too neatly. Jerry tries to lift up her body but gets slimed with bowel oozing, is repulsed, and drops her.
The guys name is Trevor Mayes from a site called Scriptwrecked, and he talked about this passage being a great example of sensory imagery...
Quoted Text
What is Sensory Imagery? Here’s a pretty good definition:
Sensory Imagery is a writing technique based on the five senses. Using words to describe what is seen, heard, felt, smelled, and tasted draws the reader into the story… This technique helps the reader to feel transported into the place where the story takes place by helping the reader to feel, hear, see, smell what the main character experiences.
Basically, the more you can evoke a reader’s five senses, the more immersive and vivid your script will feel.
Sights and sounds are obviously script mainstays (“Only what you can see and hear”). But what about the other three senses? If you’re a skilled writer like Michael R. Perry, you can also strategically evoke (or suggest) touch, taste and smell.
Anyway, it has stuck with me and makes a lot of sense I guess, something I have not thought about to much.
-- and, suddenly, the obsessed face of HOWARD BEALE, gaunt, haggard, red-eyed with unworldly fervor, hair streaked and plastered on his brow, manifestly mad, fills the MONITOR SCREEN.
HOWARD (ON MONITOR) I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job, the dollar buys a nickel's worth, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter, punks are running wild in the streets, and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air's unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit and watch our tee-vees while some local newscaster tells us today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We all know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything's going crazy. So we don't go out any more. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we live in gets smaller, and all we ask is please, at least leave us alone in our own living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my tee-vee and my hair-dryer and my steel- belted radials, and I won't say anything, just leave us alone. Well, I'm not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad --
ANOTHER ANGLE showing the rapt attention of the PEOPLE in the control room, especially of DIANA --
HOWARD I don't want you to riot. I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to write your congressmen. Because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the defense budget and the Russians and crime in the street. All I know is first you got to get mad. You've got to say: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more. I'm a human being, goddammit. My life has value." So I want you to get up now. I want you to get out of your chairs and go to the window. Right now. I want you to go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell. I want you to yell: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!"
Ah. thank you. Very high schoolish indeed. I'm sure the mere word "sackbut" had high entertainment value alone. I'll see if the word passes the sniff test of my elementary school kids.
Do you guys ever listen to the director/producer/writer commentary on DVD extras? I think those on Fight Club fantastic.
And just to add a modicum of contribution to the threads original intent I offer:
INT. MACGUFF HOUSE - JUNO’S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON
Juno examines a large ad in the newspaper that depicts a distraught TEEN GIRL clutching her head in a moment of staged conflict. The ad reads: “Pregnant? Find the clinic that gives women choice. Women’s Choice Health Center.” Juno picks up her hamburger phone and dials. For a moment, she attempts to copy the melodramatic pose from the ad, checking herself out in the mirror.
JUNO (talking along with voice prompt) “Para instruciones en Espanol, oprima numero dos.”
She presses a few buttons in succession.
JUNO Yes, hello, I need to procure a hasty abortion?...What was that? I’m sorry, I’m on my hamburger phone and it’s kind of awkward to talk on. It’s really more of a novelty than a functional appliance.
Another rule-breaker from (one of many) Alien 3 scripts.
The final description stuck with me after reading this script. Hard to say why -- but I still remember it -- so it must be effective in its way.
Code
INT. WATER DUCT
Grimes slows to a stop. Is the duct sloping? Or is it just his
imagination?
GRIMES
Hey. Styles.
VAN BRUNT
Shut up, man.
GRIMES
Styles. We're goin' down. Shoulda
gone the other way, man, shoulda
gone left back there at --
Domingo kicks him in the face.
DOMINGO
Sorry.
They crawl on, Grimes nursing a bloody lip. But trailing, Van Brunt
stops to cock an ear. What was that SOUND? He looks back through his
legs to see...
A long empty tunnel.
Van Brunt hurries to catch up. HOLD on the emptiness. And now we
hear it: It's that SLIDING-CLAWING sound -- the noise that makes our
balls want to crawl up in our stomachs and hide there.
Wonderful example of a series of shots, with voice-over, at the beginning of the under-appreciated film, "Salton Sea"
Code
INT. LABORATORY - DAY
EXTREME CLOSE-UP of a glass pipette dripping a clear liquid into a
glass beaker.
DANNY (V.O.)
Methedrene was first distilled by a
Japanese scientist before WWII.
Hand it to the Japanese, they knew a
good thing when they saw it.
INT. JAPANESE ZERO - DAY
A wide-eyed, jaw-grinding KAMIKAZE PILOT with a death-grip on the
controls.
DANNY (V.O.)
This guy's so tweaked, he probably thinks
he can survive this without a scratch.
STOCK BATTLE FOOTAGE - a Japanese Zero crashes into a battleship,
bursting into a ball of flames.
DANNY (V.O.)
Maybe not.
(beat)
By some estimates, 2% of the Japanese
population had a meth problem after
the war: factory workers, soldiers,
pilots. Maybe that's why it took two
bombs to get 'em to surrender. A
nuclear blast is just a minor
nuisance to a determined tweaker.
INT. HOUSE - DAY
A wide-eyed, June Cleaveresque housewife in a picture-perfect white
dress vacuums the floor of a picture-perfect house.
DANNY (V.O)
In the fifties, the housewives got
ahold of it. Dexedrine. Benzedrine.
Methedrene ...
She attacks the same spot over and over again, one hand clutching the
vacuum, the other stiffly holding a cigarette.
DANNY (cont'd)
Now that's a classic speed freak for
you, skinny and cleaning the house. I'll
bet her poor husband never knew what
hit him in the sack either.
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
THE LEG OF THE BED rattling and bouncing loudly off the floor.
STOCK FOOTAGE - J.F.K. pumping the hand of NIKITA KRUSCHEV.
DANNY (V.O.)
There were even rumors that one of
our presidents dabbled with
mysterious "energy shots". Imagine
that: a slammer in the White House.
Kennedy talking animatedly.
DANNY (cont'd)
If it's true, I'll bet ol' Krushchev
never got a word in edgewise.
EXT. TRUCK STOP PARKING LOT - NIGHT
A sleepy-eyed TRUCKER emerges from his tractor-trailer and approaches a
loitering HELL'S ANGELS-type.
DANNY (V.O.)
By the late 60's the government
finally cracked down and sent the
whole thing underground. Bikers
controlled the market for a while.
INT. TRACTOR-TRAILER - NIGHT
The trucker gripping the wheel with the same death-grip as the
Kamikaze.
DANNY (V.O.)
But now anyone with a basic chemistry
kit and the right ingredients can
cook it up at home.
INT. PHARMACY - NIGHT
A CASHIER scanning container after container of COLD MEDICATION.
DANNY (V.O.)
Ever see a long-haired tattooed freak
buying up all the cold medicine he
can lay his hands on at three in the morning.
The cashier looks up at the aforementioned FREAK, a frozen grin
plastered on his face.
DANNY (cont'd)
Take it from me, he ain't got no
cold. He's a cook. Look in his
kitchen and you'll find a whole
grocery list of unsavory ingredients.
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
TRACK DOWN the kitchen counter on various containers.
DANNY (V.O.)
Drain cleaner, hydrochloric acid,
match heads for red phosphorus,
ether and of course the cold
medicine .. that's for Ephedrene,
soon to become Methedrene
CONTINUE TRACKING to a series of BURNERS, BEAKERS and TUBING
DANNY (cont'd)
This guy's a regular Julia Child.
Problem is, I'll be even Miss Julia
fucks up the bouillabaisse from time to time.
The freaky cook sees something he doesn't like. His eyes widen.
DANNY (cont'd)
Oh-oh.
EXT. TRAILER - NIGHT
As the structure explodes.
Last one for now. Character introductions that I just love from the script for "Feast"
Code
EXT. BAR -- NIGHT
Neon light flashes UNITED NATIONS TAVERN. Laughing and music
emanates. Besides the bar, there's nothing around for miles.
A 1985, pristine black Pontiac Trans-Am with a Golden Eagle
on the hood pulls up. The rear bumper sticker reads "MY OTHER
TOY HAS TITS."
A weasel-like man with a fat belly and tank-top emerges from
the hot rod carrying a VELVET POOL CUE CASE. Freeze on him.
NAME: BOZO
AGE: 32
JOB: UNEMPLOYED
OCCUPATION: TOWN JACKASS
LIFE EXPECTANCY: DEAD BY DAWN
The rest of the parking lot is scattered with cars and pickup
trucks. Bozo lazily makes his way to the bar and pushes
through the front entrance --
INT. BAR -- CONTINUOUS
Bozo passes a man dressed in a cheap suit and standing well
over six foot five with frazzled black hair and olive skin.
Talking with a thick Greek accent, he pleads into a pay phone.
COACH
(into pay phone)
They took my laptop with my PowerPoint
presentation, my Blackberry, my
cell... And to top it off, my car
crapped out on the side of the road!
I'm not making the conference and I
have fourteen leads waiting for me.
You gotta help me out here. I'm not
kidding, I've have fourteen PRIMO
leads waiting in the lobby of the
Mariott... MARIOTT...
Freeze on him.
NAME: COACH
AGE: 42
OCCUPATION: LIFE COACH & MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER
FUN FACT: OFTEN CALLED THE GREEK TONY ROBBINS
LIFE EXPECTANCY: STAY FAR, FAR AWAY
CLICK. The pay phone goes dead.
COACH
Son of a --
(deep breath, soothing)
In with anger, out with love.
Further into the bar, a man in a wheelchair loads a quarter
into an old jukebox, but he is instantly pushed away by Bozo.
Freeze on him.
NAME: PARA
AGE: 29
OCCUPATION: FIREWORKS DEALER
COMIC BOOK COLLECTION: RIDICULOUSLY HUGE
LIFE EXPECTANCY: THEY WOULDN'T KILL A CRIPPLE... WOULD THEY?
Here's another Chayefsky example, from Marty. To put it in context, earlier in the script, Marty and his friend Angie were discussing what to do that night, and Angie suggested calling a girl and her friend that they had met a few weeks prior. Marty didn't seem too interested, but decided to call anyway, which is where this scene starts.
Code
MARTY'S BEDROOM.
It's a small room with bed, chest of drawers, religious
pictures, etc. Marty sits squatly on the edge of the bed,
absorbed in thought. He stands, moves out into...
THE GROUND FLOOR CORRIDOR.
...and down that into...
THE DINING ROOM.
...now lit by the overhead neo-Tiffany lampshade and the
beaded old-fashioned lamps. He crosses to the kitchen door,
looks in on his mother, cooking away, turns, crosses back
to...
THE LIVING ROOM.
He closes the sliding doors that separate the living and
dining rooms. He extracts a small black address book from
his hip pocket, flips through it, finds the page he wants,
studies it intently.
He sits on the chair by the phone, dials.
MARTY
(with a vague pretense
at good diction)
Hello, is this Mary Feeney?... Could
I speak to Miss Mary Feeney?... Just
tell her an old friend...
He waits again. With his free hand he wipes the gathering
sweat on his brow.
MARTY
...Oh, hello there, is this Mary
Feeney? Hello there, this is Marty
Pilletti. I wonder if you recall
me... Well, I'm kind of a stocky
guy. The last time we met was in a
movie, the RKO Chester. You was with
another girl, and I was with a friend
of mine named Angie. This was about
a month ago...
The girl apparently doesn't remember him. A sort of panic
begins to seize Marty. His voice rises a little.
MARTY
The RKO Chester in Westchester Square.
You was sitting in front of us, and
we was annoying you, and you got
mad, and... I'm the fellow who works
in a butcher shop... Come on, you
know who I am!... That's right, we
went to Howard Johnson's and we had
hamburgers. You hadda milkshake...
Yeah, that's right. I'm the stocky
one, the heavy-set feller... Well,
I'm glad you recall me, because I
hadda swell time that night, and I
was just wondering how everything
was with you. How's everything?...
That's swell... Yeah, well, I'll
tell you why I called...I was figuring
on taking in a movie tonight, and I
was wondering if you and your friend
would care to see a movie tonight
with me and my friend...
(his eyes are closed
now)
Yeah, tonight. I know it's pretty
late to call for a date, but I didn't
know myself, till... Yeah, I know,
well how about... Yeah, I know, well
maybe next Saturday night. You free
next Saturday night?... Well, how
about the Saturday after that?...
Yeah, I know... Yeah... Yeah... Oh,
I understand, I mean...
He hangs up, sits for a moment, then rises, opens the sliding
doors, enters...
THE DINING ROOM.
He sits at the heavy, wooden table with its white-on-white
table cloth.
THE KITCHEN.
Mrs. Pilletti ladles portions of food from the steaming
kettles onto a plate that she brings into...
THE DINING ROOM.
...and sets it down before her son. Without a word, he picks
up his fork and spoon and plunges into the mountain of
spaghetti, adds cheese, eats away. Mrs. Pilletti takes her
seat, folds her hands on the table, and sits watching Marty
eat.
MRS. PILLETTI
So what are you gonna do tonight,
Marty?
MARTY
I don't know, Ma. I'm all knocked
out. I may just hang arounna house.
Mrs. Pilletti nods a couple of times. A moment of silence.
MRS. PILLETTI
Why don't you go to the Stardust
Ballroom?
This gives Marty pause. He looks up.
MARTY
What?
MRS. PILLETTI
I say, why don't you go to the
Stardust Ballroom? It's loaded with
tomatoes.
Marty regards his mother for a moment.
MARTY
It's loaded with what?
MRS. PILLETTI
Tomatoes.
MARTY
Ha! Who told you about the Stardust
Ballroom?
MRS. PILLETTI
Thomas. He told me it was a very
nice place.
MARTY
Oh, Thomas. Ma, it's just a big dance
hall, and that's all it is. I been
there a hundred times. Loaded with
tomatoes. Boy, you're funny, Ma.
MRS. PILLETTI
Marty, I don't want you hang arounna
house tonight. I want you to go take
a shave and go out and dance.
MARTY
Ma, when are you gonna give up? You
gotta bachelor on your hands. I ain't
never gonna get married.
MRS. PILLETTI
You gonna get married.
MARTY
Sooner or later, there comes a point
in a man's life when he gotta face
some facts, and one fact I gotta
face is that whatever it is that
women like, I ain't got it. I chased
enough girls in my life. I went to
enough dances. I got hurt enough. I
don't wanna get hurt no more. I just
called a girl just now, and I got a
real brush-off, boy. I figured I was
past the point of being hurt, but
that hurt. Some stupid woman who I
didn't even wanna call up. She gave
me the brush. I don't wanna go to
the Stardust Ballroom because all
that ever happened to me there was
girls made me feel like I was a bug.
I got feelings, you know. I had enough
pain. No, thank you.
MRS. PILLETTI
Marty...
MARTY
Ma, I'm gonna stay home and watch
Jackie Gleason.
MRS. PILLETTI
You gonna die without a son.
MARTY
So I'll die without a son.
MRS. PILLETTI
Put on your blue suit...
MARTY
Blue suit, gray suit, I'm still a
fat man. A fat ugly man.
MRS. PILLETTI
You not ugly.
MARTY
(his voice rising)
I'm ugly... I'm ugly! I'm UGLY!
MRS. PILLETTI
Marty...
MARTY
Ma! Leave me alone!
He stands abruptly, his face pained and drawn. He makes half-
formed gestures to his mother, but he can't find words at
the moment. He turns and marches a few paces away, turns to
his mother again.
MARTY
Ma, waddaya want from me?! Waddaya
want from me?! I'm miserable enough
as it is! Leave me alone! I'll go to
the Stardust Ballroom! I'll put onna
blue suit and I'll go! And you know
what I'm gonna get for my trouble?
Heartache! A big night of heartache!
Sullenly, he marches back to his seat, sits down, picks up
his fork, plunges it into the spaghetti, stuffs a mouthful
into his mouth, and chews vigorously for a moment. It is
impossible for him to remain angry long. After a while, he
is shaking his head.
MARTY
Loaded with tomatoes...boy, that's
rich.
He plunges his fork in again, starts to eat. Mrs. Pilletti
watches Marty anxiously as we...
FADE OUT.
An excerpt from Medieval. One of the best action specs I read to date.
(And it sold for a million bucks, by the way).
Code
INT. TENEMENT - DAY (FLASHBACK)
WHAM, a door EXPLODES off its hinges, revealing our Gypsy,
running as if his life depends on speed. At the moment, it does.
Because behind him, hauling ass in pursuit, are four THUGS
with truncheons in their hands and murder in their eyes.
Reality is a blur, smeared into staccato impressions.
Gypsy parkours around the corner, more bad guys incoming,
shit, he jumps up, grabs an overhead pipe, slides over their
heads. Bodychecks the last thug into the wall. A closed
window looms; he dives through it straight into-
EXT. ROOFTOPS - CONTINUOUS - DAY
A medieval metropolis lies before us like a human anthill.
It’s nameless and vast, instantly assaulting our senses with
a battery of sounds, sights and smells. Think New York for
the Middle Ages.
Okay, I have an example, and getting back on topic to make JB feel a little better.
This is by Peter Morgan, who is turning into one the best screenwriters out there IMO and I am posting not because he breaks rules, or does anything clever, I am posting because it is a scene that I thought was written brilliantly, very cinematically and had me picturing the scene unfold in perfect clarity as though I was watching the movie.
It is an excerpt from Hereafter, the new Clint Eastwood film out soon.
Problem is, I cannot cut and past from the pdf, it is scanned and seems nothing I can do. So I have just put the relevant 3 pages on my file share for you to download (if anyone can think of a way to post in thread then thanks).
Pages: 1, 
Author
How to do it: Examples of great Pro writing
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