I’m Michael Klug. I’m a screenwriter, an actor, a script consultant, a filmmaker, a novelist, a film critic and an overall movie nerd.
In my 20 years of screenwriting, I’ve discovered shortcuts, preferences and things to never do again. And whether they’re the rules, they’re my rules. Most of my screenwriting pet peeves developed out of my own shortcomings — things I habitually did, despite knowing I could do better.
Things like using the ridiculous “She begins to” instead of just having the character do the thing. Describing things my characters are thinking or feeling that can’t be presented on screen. Making things convenient for a character by not properly establishing them beforehand — like a weapon we’ve never seen before that handily appears at the last second.
I had to train myself to avoid these missteps. Now they’re part of the rules from which I don’t depart. As a screenwriting consultant, I try to pass along these tricks or rituals to my clients — but again and again, one of the biggest mistakes I see writers make is over-describing.
I once had a friend/development executive (who now works in the Star Trek universe – ahem, anonymous name drop) explain why I needed to trim my descriptions:
“Don’t do the work of the other artisans.”
It’s amazing how much this simple phrase covers: Casting, costume design, fight scenes, makeup, cinematography, music, set design. And not just those things.
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Unless specific elements of description are necessary to showcase the character or serve the plot, leave them out of your screenplay. They are to be determined by artisans who are trained in such specialized skills, and hired for their special insights and gifts.
Let’s use a few examples.
Fight Choreography: Let’s say our hero, Roger, gets into a fight. He ends up getting his jaw broken, and his broken jaw is important to the plot because his difficulty speaking leads to further misunderstandings. In this case, the screenwriter needs to explicitly include a moment in which someone breaks Roger’s jaw.
But if he just gets in a general brawl, and everyone comes out more or less OK, you can write simply: They fight.
And let the fight coordinator figure out the rest.
Costume Design: As a child, Sally always hated the color of the paint in her room — a terrible magenta. What were her parents thinking? Since then, she’s had nightmares about that particular shade. It gives her migraines. So when her loving husband surprises her with a magenta scarf, not knowing of her absolute hatred for this color, she goes into a blind rage. It’s a trigger.
In this case, it’s necessary that you describe in the script that the scarf is magenta, because it means something. Otherwise, does it matter if we know what color the gifted scarf is? Probably not.
Set/Production Design: Most of Roger and Sally’s story takes place in a house. Does it matter whether the house is blue or green? Probably not. Does it matter that it’s run down or pretty? Probably.
The key is to figure out the bare necessities to set the scene. Adding too many details is infringing on someone else’s artistic vision and only serves to expand your page count.
And look, I’m a big proponent of trimming and cutting – to the point of obsession. If it can be nixed, then do it. If it can be combined, do it. I make games out of my script drafts, beyond the first: How many pages and words can I remove? There’s a legitimate high in getting your page count down, especially when you know that it’s just too long (and isn’t it always?). Get what you need to establish the scene or the character, and move on.
Final Screenplay Advice From Michael Klug
Finally, I’m also quite opposed to camera directions within a script. Certainly if it’s a shooting script, and you’re going to direct, you can do what you want. It’s basically the Wild West as far as rules and formatting in a shooting script, right?
However, It’s not really your job to suggest camera angles. If you’re sending your script to sell it, find representation, or win a screenwriting contest, please: Camera directions are a classic case of “don’t do the work of the other artisans.” The director or cinematographer will decide whether to use Dutch angles, not the writer. The other artisans will bring their own expertise to the project.
Which brings us to the debate over “We see…” Is it OK to say what the audience sees? If not, how do you describe certain discoveries that the audience may make at the same time as a character — or just before, or just after?
I’ve let down my guard from time to time and have used POV to describe how a moment should be seen. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it. And I think that’s the same for “We see…” As in, “We see a splotch of blood on the corner of the rug as we move into the kitchen.”
You’re basically suggesting a camera movement, but on rare occasions you may need to, for dramatic purposes. It’s a tough thing to straddle, and frankly, I continue to search for ways to describe what I want without resorting to “We see…” or “POV.”
If someone passes on your script because of the story or pacing or whatever, there’s not much you can do about that. It’s all subjective. But don’t handicap your chances by submitting an unpolished or overly descriptive screenplay. The devil’s in the details… just not too many details.
You can learn more about Michael Klug and receive more detailed screenplay advice at klugulascreenplayconsulting.com.
Main image: Michael Klug. Photo by Johnny Call