In film, ‘It all starts with a solid story’
Edmonton screen boss pens guide for fixing features
As CEO of the Edmonton Screen Industries Office, part of Josh Miller’s job is to encourage local film productions any way he can — including coordinating with any combination of filmmakers, governments at all levels … even foreign investors.
But writing a thorough guide to fixing broken screenplays seems almost microscopically dedicated to the position — what’s next, build an affordable local movie studio with his own cement mixer?
The truth is, the award-winning screenwriter and producer was working on his book long before he landed the ESIO job, its publication standing in a long line of Miller’s accomplishments going back to the mid-’80s, including a producer credit on Forsaken, starring Kiefer and Donald Sutherland.
Miller’s Stuck! Learn to Love Your Screenplay Again is a funny, readable, and above all encyclopedic examination of what makes a good feature film script tick — from character to pacing to genre — dissecting over 200 classic and contemporary examples of films illustrating the NYU-educated filmmaker’s talking points.
His list of 100 film cliches is certainly not to be missed, including: “At least one in a pair of identical twins is always born evil”; “You can tell if a man is British because he’ll be wearing a bowtie”; and “A man will show no pain while taking the most hellacious beating, but will wince like a baby when a woman tries to clean his wounds.”
From Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat series to Robert McKee’s Story, it’s true there are a number of screenwriting books out there. But as Miller points out in an interview at the new ESIO offices at Orange Hub just off Stony Plain Road, “I’m a screenwriting book junkie and so I’ve read most of what’s been published in this area. But you’re always looking for more knowledge.
“The last one to make a splash was Save the Cat, and it was about 15 years ago that came out, so I thought it was time.
“I taught a course in screenwriting and had all my notes, and started building them into chapters. I quickly realized all my film references were really old,” he laughs, “so I had to watch a bunch of recent films.”
Indeed, one of the best things about the book is whatever subject Miller’s on — let’s say the personalities of “crowd scenes” — he dives deep into various examples, old and new. For example in I, Tonya, he talks about how the crowd’s moods shift from approbation to scorn to hatred, how the crowd is a character in itself. He gives Invasion of the Body Snatchers the same treatment.
Over 35 chapters, Miller explains the differences between montages and series of shots (think Team America’s montage song vs. Pretty Woman’s series of shopping scenes set to Roy Orbison’s music), points out how dramatic objectives can differ from personal goals (winning a race for personal satisfaction versus pleasing dad), and brings tragedy and comedy back to their original definitions, where the film Alien, with its happy ending, is actually technically a comedy.
He laughs, “I knew that’d be a little hard for people to wrap their mind around. Basically a story is a tragedy or not a tragedy, therefore a comedy. That doesn’t mean it’s funny. For funny movies I use the word comic.
“But I had to do that to explain how the whole premise thing works — you have to understand what kind of movie you’re writing.”
Interestingly, he noticed a great number of the truly classic films are tragedies.
“Like, huge movies, life changers. Which is funny, because tragedies are tougher commercially, because people like to go home feeling good.”
Just a few on his list include classics like Chinatown, The Godfather, Lawrence of Arabia and Dr. Strangelove — newer films including Get Out, Ex Machina and Whiplash.
“A great tragedy that moves you and gets you thinking and is inevitable that it wasn’t going to work out for that character is, I think, just as satisfying.”
Miller notes the way stories are written now versus the classic era is mostly the same, “Hollywood movies are basically now the tent pole Marvel movies — some are OK, some are just effects.
“The really interesting work now is being done by independents, which is kind of the way it’s always been.
“What’s changed is a couple of things. The technology now is available to just about anybody to have a top technical look if they have skill. I’ve also noticed a lot of films that would’ve been considered maybe avant-garde, nice art films, are moving a little more to the mainstream — for example when Moonlight won (Best Picture Oscar).
“The audience is open to different stuff, they’re more open to it than ever, really. But it all starts with a solid story.”
Yet given the number of eyes on a film production trying to do their best, bad pictures constantly get made. Miller is unsurprised, listing a few reasons it happens.
“The people who are empowered might not know or care about dramatic structure or craft. That person may even be the star.
“Another is laziness. It’s really hard to let go of your first idea, even though it might be a great idea but there’s major logic problems with it. It gets harder to keep thinking about that as you move along, but that’s what you have to do to solve those problems: kill your babies.
“A third is tough to define, a bit general. But I’ve noticed that over years and years of these things not being taught and applied, that younger movie goers haven’t been exposed to enough ‘good.’ I wouldn’t say it’s an erosion of taste — but there’s an acceptance for things that are not as good as they should be.
“That’s a mission of mine with the book. If you learn this stuff, whether you’re a fan or a writer or a producer that has input, maybe knowing this stuff will help bring back some higher level of discernment.”