Dialogue, Part 2: The Sounds of Silence
We began this 5-part series on dialogue here yesterday, focusing on this point:
Obviously, a screenwriter approaches dialogue mostly through what a character says: Their words will convey a character’s relationship to the Plotline, to the Themeline, and to subtext ‘messages.’ However, you should also look for opportunities for your character to ‘say’ something by not saying it.
Huh? Saying something by not saying it?
Yes, I mean precisely that. Sometimes a character’s silence can speak volumes. The words they don’t say combined with their actions can be a powerful form of communication. Remember, film is primarily a visual medium, so in many cases, actions will speak louder than words.
Picking up from yesterday:
Screenwriter-director Cameron Crowe (SAY ANYTHING, SINGLES, ALMOST FAMOUS) is a brilliant wordsmith, especially his dialogue. Actors must salivate at the chance to work with Crowe because his dialogue is smart, funny, observant, and a joy to read.
We are going to focus on four scene segments from Crowe’s script for the movie JERRY MAGUIRE, paying particular attention to how Crowe ties his dialogue to character, connects it to the Plotline and Themeline, his use of subtext, and especially how he employs the technique of saying something by not saying it.
The screenplay’s Protagonist is Jerry Maguire (Tom Cruise), a hot-shot sports agent. Crowe spends the better part of Act I introducing this character, establishing the story universe of sports stars and agents, heavy on greed, the insanity of which causes players to play even when threatened by physical damage. Catching a glimpse of the inhumanity of his job, Jerry lets down his professional guard for just one night, but it is enough for him to punch out a 25-page “Mission Statement,” recalling the idealism of his youth, announcing how he and his cohorts should begin to care for “fewer clients… caring for ourselves, and the games too. Starting our lives, really.” The moment he distributes his memo to his associates at the huge sports agency SMI, he regrets his decision. And for good reason.
Jerry is taken to lunch by a young agent, SUGAR (Jay Mohr), who Crowe describes earlier as a “Maguire wannabe.” This is when the hammer drops (p. 26):
EXT. CRONIN’S GRILL — AFTERNOON
Crowded outdoor restaurant in the business district. Jerry sits down opposite Bob Sugar, still making a few notes.
JERRY
Gimme a second here… Tidwell… Arizona contract…
new glass cabinet…
SUGAR
You okay?
JERRY
(looking up)
I’m fine. What’s up?
SUGAR
I came here to let you go.
JERRY
Pardon me?
SUGAR
Came here to fire you, Jerry.
For a long moment there is only silence. They study each other. These are two smart boys, each one anticipating the other’s next three or four moves.
SUGAR
(continuing)
It’s real, Jerry. You… you should say something.
Suddenly he’s flushed, a little embarrassed.
JERRY
Aw shit… the crowded restaurant… so there’s no scene.
SUGAR
I know. It sucks. I suck.
In a back room, the waiters are singing the restaurant’s “Birthday Song” to someone else. Jerry is dying.
JERRY
You…
SUGAR
(razor sharp)
You did this to yourself. You said “fewer clients.” You
put it all on paper. Scully was very upset. Heart attacks
make some people sweeter, but not him. You did this to
yourself.
Jerry’s mouth opens to finish his sentence, but before he can speak, Sugar continues.
SUGAR
— although I do gotta hand it to you. For about five minutes
you had everyone applauding smaller revenues.
JERRY
You… ungrateful… unctuous…
SUGAR
(unctuous)
… dick?
JERRY
Dick.
Maguire reaches for water. The sound of the ice cubes jangling is suddenly very loud to him. He is drowning.
SUGAR
Give me a little credit for doing this face-to-face! What
I went through knowing I was going to do this to my mentor!
Can you get past yourself for a second?
JERRY
You’ll lose.
SUGAR
(musically)
You wanted smaller.
JERRY
I’m over it. Now I want all my clients and yours too.
SUGAR
Jerry —
JERRY
— and I’ll get ‘em.
SUGAR
(patronizing)
You’ll always be my hero, Jerry. Always always always.
We’re bringing other elements in, we’re focusing on
endorsements — it’s not about handholding anymore.
We’re no longer babysitters —
Jerry fights the desire to use his fists. Hangs onto the table. He’s starting to freak out now. Trying to calm down. Sugar’s mouth keeps moving, but we hear the music in Jerry’s mind. Rising percussive music.
And then on to that great sequence of Jerry versus Sugar, vying for athletes on the phone, leading to the great line, “Show me the money.” But let’s talk about this scene.
First, how is Jerry’s character tied to the Plotline? He is, of course, the Protagonist and this is approaching the end of Act I, where he, the reluctant hero, is being forced out into the New World (post-SMI agency). Since he doesn’t want this to happen to him, Crowe sets up the scene so that Jerry is in defensive mode — the action comes toward him and he is forced to react.
How is Jerry’s character tied to the Themeline? The story is a battle for his ‘soul,’ Jerry’s journey to find his own humanity. His “Mission Statement,” deriving from a little place inside Jerry’s ‘heart, represents one side of the battle: Treat people like human beings (fewer clients, more time caring for the athletes, caring for the game). The other side is physicalized by Sugar: Treat people like products (“We’re focusing on endorsements — it’s not about handholding anymore. We’re no longer babysitters.”). The way Jerry will end up relating to his work is one way we will track his transformation over the course of the story.
And what about subtext? Track Sugar’s lines where he covers his obvious discomfort about firing his idol (“I know. It sucks. I suck.”) with putting the blame squarely on Jerry (“You did this to yourself.”), then an even more desperate deflection of personal responsibility (“What I went through knowing I was going to do this to my mentor! Can you get past yourself for a second?”) — all of that Sugar’s way of not saying what he really knows about himself, but is afraid to admit: That he is a Class A, certifiable schmuck (for the Yiddish impaired, try jerk).
Or as Jerry calls him, “An ungrateful unctuous dick.” But wait, is Jerry really calling out Sugar for being all that, or perhaps someone else: Like himself? Ungrateful for not realizing what a ‘great’ life he had, and now had screwed it up by circulating his preposterous Mission Statement; unctuous because he knows he himself has spent a professional lifetime being “insincerely earnest.” And dick because Jerry has acted in ways deserving of that moniker as well.
All that is great subtext. But now track the silence.
The stunned silence when he hears Sugar telling him for the first time he’s there to fire Jerry.
At the scene’s end where Jerry hangs onto the table, starting “to freak out now.”
But the best moment of all where “Maguire reaches for water. The sound of the ice cubes jangling is suddenly very loud to him. He is drowning.”
Jerry could have said, I can’t believe you’re firing me. Instead, Crowe chooses to have Jerry sit in stunned silence. Jerry could have said, I’m freaking out now. Instead, Crowe lets the character’s actions convey his inner turmoil. And while Sugar prattles on with his desperate justifications, Crowe simply lets Jerry have a moment with his glass of water. If you watch the movie, it is quite a ‘silent’ moment: The voice of Sugar in the background, Jerry’s eyes locked onto the glass, water sweating down its side. He is drowning, indeed. All of that said without ‘saying’ a word — subtext through silence.
Tomorrow we’ll pick up this thread by analyzing another scene from Jerry Maguire.
You can download a PDF of the script for Jerry Maguire here at myPDFscripts.com.
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