My sister, Jessica Walter, is an actor. For decades she was best known for her femme fatal role in the first movie ever directed by Clint Eastwood: "Play Misty for Me." That led to 30 years of bad girls: "Women in Cages," "Women in Chains," and you-name-it. In recent years however, thanks to her role as Lucille Bluth in the incomparably biting and hilarious "Arrested Development," she has been able to show off what we in the family have already known she had: powerful comedy chops.
She got her start in a ‘60s CBS soap opera, "Love of Life." She told me that during her two years on that show she must have poured 10,000 gallons of martinis, as lazy writers so frequently give actors fake action that is not action at all, such as mixing drinks, eating food, driving around in cars, chatting in offices. These are merely excuses for the actors not to act out the story but instead to narrate it via dialogue.
They’re not called "talkers," they’re called "actors." The word "drama" comes from the ancient Greek word meaning "to do." When the director is ready to shoot she says “Lights, camera, talk?”
I don’t think so.
The last word is “Action!”
I’ve just read the script for the movie released Labor Day weekend starring George Clooney called "The American." Beyond the scattered smooching and shooting, it’s mainly actors sitting around in bars, restaurants, cafes, and driving around in cars, talking, talking, and talking.
Merely by avoiding lame, limp venues, writers can imbue their scenes with vitality and allure. If you have a scene set in a coffee shop or some similarly lackluster setting, contemplate simply changing the location. It may very well lead not merely to background that is more engaging but also to significant expansion of character.
I collaborated on a police/action/melodrama/thriller years ago that dealt with a cop who happened to become also a best selling author. He is in conflict with his superior officer. As I explain in my new book "Essentials of Screenwriting," the script suffered from too, too many scenes in the latter’s office. There was too much time spent with two guys sitting on opposite sides of a desk arguing with each other.
My writing partner and I made up a list of alternative locations where one or another or several of the scenes could play out other than that office. One of these was a swimming pool. Is that genius out of Shakespeare? Of course not. All by itself it’s no big deal, but in a screenplay nothing is all by itself; everything is part of the whole picture.
The notion of a swimming pool suggested to us that the older officer was overweight and had a heart condition; he’d been ordered by his doctors to exercise. He had taken, therefore, to swimming daily, and it is at the pool that the cop/author catches up with him.
