Reader Question: Is it okay to switch writing styles within a script?
The other day I featured Wall-E for this Scene Description Spotlight post to explore the “haiku” writing style. Here’s an example from Wall-E:
Wally runs for it.
An enormous COLUMN OF FIRE blocks his path.
A second column of fire.
A third.
Trapped.
Wally cubes the ground beneath him.
Working fast.
Noise deafening.
Heat rising.
Digs in just as a tide of flame carpets the ground…
…Then suddenly quiet.
Smoke clears.
CLOSE ON THE SCORCHED EARTH
Wally’s head rises out of the dirt.
Glows red hot from the heart.
Trembles with fright.
Everything in shadow.
Something very big looms over him.
Wally climbs out of his hole.
Bangs his head on metal.
WIDE on a massive SPACESHIP.
Rests ominously in the empty bay.
A PORTAL on its underside opens.
Frightened, Wally tries to hide.
Nowhere to go.
He places a SMALL ROCK on his head. Boxes up.
A DEVICE lowers to the ground on a long stem.
Scans the surface.
Wally creeps closer for a better look.
The device unfolds.
Wally boxes up again.
A CAPSULE descends from a chute in the stem.
ROBOT ARMS emerge from the device.
Place the capsule on the ground. Press buttons.
The capsule falls away in sections, to reveal…
…a PROBE ROBOT.
In comments, Carlos M. Hernandez asks a good question:
Is it considered poor practice to switch the narrative style depending on the mood you’re trying to draw in a specific scene?
I could see this style working in a horror film as someone runs from the threat and then hides.
However, after that, perhaps the writer wants to switch to a style that fits that person explaining their fear to their friends or the law enforcement in the next scene.
Carlos, the only way I can answer this is to frame the discussion with what I call Narrative Voice. Almost every movie is grounded in a single genre (e.g., action, comedy, thriller) or cross-genre (e.g., romantic-comedy, action-adventure). That genre should be reflected in the attitude the writer takes toward their stylistic choices, most importantly in scene description, but also transitions, how to begin and end scenes, scene juxtaposition, and so on. That attitude is Narrative Voice and in effect, it is your story’s invisible character, the character ‘telling’ the story. And so my little formula:
Genre + Style = Narrative Voice
So any discussion about whether it’s proper to shift styles within a script has to be — in my view — considered in terms of what that story’s Narrative Voice is, who that character is.
There’s also this: There are different types of scenes and scene strings. The point of some of them is exposition, others revelation, still others action, and some the focus is on character interaction. Clearly the ‘tone’ of each scene or scene string will differ. The question is — is that reflected in the style?
Let’s look at a script by Shane Black, who is expert at conveying a specific type of Narrative Voice. He also makes a slight stylistic shift between how he approaches action scenes and non-action scenes. Here are two scene excerpts from The Last Boy Scout (which by the way was a spec script that sold for $1.75M in 1990).
The first is how the story’s Protagonist Hallenbeck is introduced, having passed out drunk the night before in his car, surrounded the next morning by a group of boys who toss a dead squirrel on him:
HALLENBECK
sits bold upright and grabs the Kid and stuffs a .38
revolver in the Kid’s face and cocks it.
HALLENBECK
Hey, motherfucker.
The Kid, of course, shrieks.
And the light of sanity dawns in Hallenbeck’s eyes.
He sucks in a deep breath. Releases the struggling Kid.
Swears under his breath. Watches the boys flee in
terror. Notices a dead squirrel in his lap. Scowls.
Heaves it out the window. Pumps a Camel into his mouth.
Lights it. Rescues the bottle of Seagrams.
Thus beings his morning.
That’s a non-action scene. Here’s the beginning of another one:
INT. “BOTTOMLESS PIT” CLUB — NIGHT
Rowdy strip club in West Hollywood. Just like the name
suggests; if it’s a virus, you’re sitting on it. After
three drinks, every girl on stage looks like your high
school sweetheart. Was your sweetheart fat? Did she
have excessive body hair?
FUNK MUSIC, played LOUD. The Monday crowd stomps and
claps. Onstage a stripper grinds away with an enthusiasm
usually reserved for standing in line at the DMV.
Now here are excerpts from two action scenes. The first is the story’s opening, where a professional football player (Cole), high on drugs, does something rather disturbing in the middle of a nationally televised game:
Cole turns the corner. Picks up a blocker.
Feet pounding. Arms pumping.
Up ahead, the free safety barrels toward him. Low and
hard.
Cole does not blink. He reaches beneath his jersey.
Pulls out a GUN.
Pumps THREE SHOTS into the free safety’s head.
The bullets go straight through. On the back of his
helmet.
A mixture of blood and fiberglass.
Cole keeps going, jogging for the end zone.
Around him, sound. Fury. Impact. Confusion.
And another action scene:
JOE HALLENBECK
charges into the intersection. Screaming bloody murder.
He’s got a GUN in each fist, and both are BLAZING.
One Hitman dies immediately:
Dances like a puppet, racked by gunfire.
Bullets go through him. SHATTER the sedan’s WINDSHIELD.
The second Hitman turns and OPENS UP on Hallenbeck.
Too late. Joe rolls behind a mailbox.
BULLETS chase him, blowing apart the metal box.
The Hitman swears. Turns, running for the sedan.
He knows when a getaway is in order.
There’s a tiny difference and Black is not entirely consistent with it, but notice how in non-action scenes he tends to use the standard paragraph approach to scene description, in action scenes he breaks up each bit of action into individual sentences. In other words, instead of allowing one line to jump to the next line automatically, when he finishes a sentence in an action scene, he hits (on Final Draft) “Enter” and “Shift” together to shift the line down a single space.
So for example, the description above:
One Hitman dies immediately:
Dances like a puppet, racked by gunfire.
Bullets go through him. SHATTER the sedan’s WINDSHIELD.
Would typically read like this:
One Hitman dies immediately. Dances like a puppet,
racked by gunfire. Bullets go through him. SHATTER
the sedan’s WINDSHIELD.
Oftentimes Black makes a stylistic choice to break up the description into individual lines, presumably because the staccato look of it is more reflective of action beats, each line like a boom — boom — boom — boom.
Now I’ll grant you, that is a tiny stylistic change. But it is a difference. So in theory, it is possible to shift styles within scripts. However the Narrative Voice must — as Black demonstrates in his pages — remain the same.
That said, you have to be careful. Switching from haiku-style to a more traditional approach is problematic and I wouldn’t advise it, not only because it would probably come off as disjunctive to a reader, but also because it suggests conflicting Narrative Voices. Is the NV’s personality more of a bullet point haiku style or a more prosaic paragraph approach?
In theory, I suppose, if your story had two Narrative Voices, you might actually benefit by providing different styles per each. But I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered a script with multiple Narrative Voices.
In summary, Carlos, let me say that while the style of writing an action scene (e.g., short punchier lines, laced with strong active verbs) may be somewhat different than writing a non-action scene, the overall approach to style should be a uniform one — and as I’ve suggested determined in large part by your choice of Narrative Voice.
What other scripts are there that have a distinctive Narrative Voice?
Comment Archive