Writing the Photoplay Part 8

--SHAKESPEARE, _As You Like It_.

5. _The Time to Choose a t.i.tle_

Notwithstanding that the t.i.tle is the first in position on the writer's script, as well as on the film as exhibited, it is frequently the last thing decided upon. A writer may have his theme well in hand, know every motive of every character, have settled to almost the minutest detail just how his scenes are going to work out as they unfold his story, yet, when he begins his first draft of the script, he may not have the slightest idea of what t.i.tle he will eventually give it.

On the other hand, he may create a story _from_ the t.i.tle. Having hit upon an expression that suggests a story by starting a train of thought, he may find that it is directly responsible for the way in which he builds his plot; its very words suggest the nature of the story, and supply at least a suggestion of how it can be developed--they hint at a possible plot, suggest the setting, and show, almost as one might guess the theme of a novel by glancing for a moment at one of the ill.u.s.trations, what the probable outcome of the story will be. Hence the expression becomes a natural t.i.tle for the photoplay.

As an example of the foregoing, in "The Fiction Factory," by "John Milton Edwards," the author says that "the sun, sand and solitude of the country G.o.d forgot" did, or caused, or made something--just what does not now matter. The point is that those ten words supplied one of the present authors with not only t.i.tles for two of his photoplays, but with the plot-germ for the plays themselves. Both are stories of Arizona: "Sun, Sand and Solitude," and "In the Country G.o.d Forgot."

_6. Choosing the t.i.tle Last_

But you may decide to leave the naming of the story until after you have made the rough draft of both synopsis and scenario. Your story is told; you know the motives that have prompted your different characters to do what they have done; you know the scene; and you understand the theme, or _motif_--as the word would be used in music--which underlies the whole action. The question arises: To what do you wish to have your t.i.tle call _particular_ attention? If a woman, or a girl, has the leading part, and it is what she does in your play that really makes the story, it would be best to feature the girl and her deed of cleverness or daring in your t.i.tle, as in "The Ranch Girl's Heroism," "A Daughter's Diplomacy," or "A Wife of the Hills." Or you may attach most importance to the locale of your story, the background against which the rest of your picture is painted, and call it, for instance, "A Tragedy of the Desert," "In the North Woods," "A Tale of Old Tahiti," or one of the t.i.tles of Arizona stories, just cited. Again, the interest in your story may be equally divided between two, or among three, people, as in "The Triangle,"

"The Girl and the Inventor," and "The Cobbler and the Financier." Note that every t.i.tle here given is the actual t.i.tle of a picture play which has already been released. Bear in mind, too, that many photoplays are released bearing poor, commonplace, and inappropriate t.i.tles, and the foregoing are not so much named as models as for the purpose of ill.u.s.trating the specific point now being discussed--that the _feature idea_ may often direct your choice after the story is worked out.

A great many comedies have t.i.tles which state a fact, or specifically make an announcement concerning what happens in the photoplay, as "Arabella Loves Her Master," or "Billy Becomes Mentally Deranged."

Photoplays with such t.i.tles are, as a rule, the product of the European makers. Once in a while a dramatic picture will be given such a t.i.tle, as "Tommy Saves His Little Sister"--a picture made in France--and "Annie Crawls Upstairs," the last a beautiful and touching picture by the well-known writer of magazine stories and photoplays, James Oppenheim, produced by the Edison Company. Again, there are more general t.i.tles exploiting the theme of the story, as "The Ways of Destiny," "The G.o.d Within," and "Intolerance." There are also symbolical t.i.tles, which have, naturally, a double meaning, playing upon an incident in the plot, as "A Pearl of Greater Price," and "Written in the Sand."

_7. The Editor and the t.i.tle_

Some successful writers have expressed dissatisfaction when editors have ventured to change the t.i.tles of their scripts after having accepted and paid for them. Doubtless some of these objections have been not without reason. Many editors and directors have, in the past, taken entirely too much upon themselves, in this and other respects taking liberties with the scripts received which, if known to the head of the firm, would have led to their being at least reprimanded. But in such studios, the editors, and especially the directors, worked for days at a time without having once come in contact with the head of the firm; as a result, they all did pretty much as they liked. During the last few months, however, changes have been made in every studio in the country, and at the present time the scripts that writers send in are not only handled much more carefully, but, if the t.i.tle of a story is changed in the studio, there is usually a very good reason for so doing.

Let us suppose, for example, that a certain company (such as, at this writing, Goldwyn) is featuring women stars only. A writer sends in an unusually good script ent.i.tled "Not Like Other Girls"--which, by the way, is a well-known book-t.i.tle. At about the time that his script is received at the Goldwyn scenario department, the company decides to feature, in addition to its women, a certain male star. This writer's story, while one with a "woman lead," is also one whose plot is capable of being worked over and slightly altered so as to provide a good vehicle for the leading man who has just been engaged. On the strength of this fact, the company buys the author's story without even informing him of their intention to make alterations in it--or they may, of course, tell him of the contemplated alterations and request his help in recasting the story. Not only is the action changed in different ways, but the t.i.tle is sure to be altered to make it appropriate for a male leading character--and all quite justifiably.

In this condition of affairs, by no means infrequent, the photoplaywright may find a strong reason for being familiar with the people composing a certain company, for the actual structure of the play as well as the t.i.tle will influence its acceptance in some instances. It is well to ask: Are men or women featured in their pictures; or do they put out stories with a male and a female "lead"

of equal strength? Your story should be good enough to make it acceptable to any editor; yet, if you plan to send it first to a firm that features a woman in most of its pictures, as you have the opportunity of knowing if you study the pictures you see on the screen and read the trade-papers, do not write a story with a strong male "lead," and do not give it a t.i.tle that draws attention to the fact that the princ.i.p.al character is a man.

Remember, once again, that your t.i.tle is the advertis.e.m.e.nt that draws the public into the theatre. The t.i.tle is to the public what the t.i.tle combined with the synopsis is to the editor--the all-important introduction to what is to follow.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SYNOPSIS OF THE PLOT

The synopsis is a brief--a clear, orderly outline--of the plot of your story. However, before considering the preparation of the synopsis, one important element must be considered:

_1. What Const.i.tutes a Plot_[11]

_A fictional or a dramatic plot is the working plan by which the story is made to lead up to the crisis (or complication, or cross-roads of choice), and then swiftly down to the outcome (or unfolding of the mystery, or untying of the knot, or result of the choice)._

[Footnote 11: The student is advised to read _The Plot of the Short Story_, Henry Albert Phillips; and the chapters on plot in the following treatises: _The Short Story_, Evelyn May Albright; _The Contemporary Short Story_, Harry T. Baker; _A Handbook on Story Writing_, Blanche Colton Williams; _Short Stories in the Making_, Robert Wilson Neal; _The Art of Story Writing_, Esenwein and Chambers; and _Writing the Short-Story_, J. Berg Esenwein.]

There can be no real plot without a complication whose explanation is worked out as the story draws to its close. A mere chain of happenings which do not involve some change or threatened change in the character, the welfare, the destinies of the leading "people," would not form a plot. Jack goes to college, studies hard, makes the football team, enjoys the companionship of his cla.s.smates, indulges in a few pranks, and returns home--there is no plot here, though there is plenty of plot _material_. But send Jack to college, and have him there find an old enemy, and at once a struggle begins. This gives us a complication, a "mix-up," a crisis; and the working out of that struggle const.i.tutes the plot.

So all dramatic and all fictional plots give the idea of a struggle, more or less definitely set forth. The struggle need not be bodily; it may take place mentally between two people--even between the forces of good and evil in the soul of an individual. The _importance_ of the struggle, the _clearness_ with which it is shown to the spectator, and the sympathetic or even the horrified _fascination_ which it arouses in him, have all to do with its effectiveness as a plot--note the three italicized words.

_2. Elements of Plot_

Dividing the subject roughly, in this brief discussion, three important elements of plot deserve consideration:

_(a) The preliminaries_ must be natural, interesting, fresh, and vivid. That is, they must not seem manufactured. It is all well enough to say that Jack has made an enemy at College, but _how_ did the enmity arise? The young men will not become opponents merely to suit the photoplaywright. You must think out some natural, interesting, fresh, and vivid cause for the antagonism. Such a logical basis for action is called _motivation_. And so with all the preliminaries on which your plot is based--they must motivate what follows. Remember that forces or persons outside the two characters may lead them to quarrel. Swiftly but carefully lay your foundations (mostly out of sight, in the manner of a good builder) so that your building may be solid and steady--so that your story may not fall because the groundwork of the plot does not appeal to the spectator as being _natural, convincing, interesting, fresh, and vivid_; these words bear reiteration.

_(b) The complication_, or struggle, including all its immediately surrounding events, must be (usually) surprising, of deep concern to the chief character, and arouse the anxiety of the spectator as to how the hero will overcome the obstacles. Jack discovers that the girl he has just learned to love is the well-loved sister of his college enemy. How will this complication work out? An interesting series of movements and counter-movements immediately becomes possible, and any number of amusing or pathetic circ.u.mstances may arise to bring about the denouement--which simply means the untying of the knot.

The struggle in a plot may be either comical or tragic. Mr. Botts ludicrously fights against a black-hand enemy--who proves to be his mischievous small son. Plump and fussy Mrs. Jellifer lays deep but always transparent plans to outwit her daughter's suitor and is finally entrapped into so laughable a situation that she yields gracefully in the end.

And so on indefinitely. Hamlet wars against his hesitating nature.

Macbeth struggles with his conscience that reincarnates the murdered Banquo. Sentimental Tommy fights his own play-actor character. t.i.to Melema goes down beneath the weight of his acc.u.mulated insincerities.

Sometimes light shines in the end, sometimes the hero wins only to die. To be sure, these struggles suggest merely a single idea, whereas plots often become very elaborate and contain even sub-plots, counter-plots, and added complications of all sorts. But the basis is the same, and always in some form _struggle_ pervades the drama; always this struggle ranges the subordinate characters for or against protagonist and antagonist, and the outcome is vitally part and substance of all that goes before--the end was sown when the seeds of the beginning were planted. This touches upon the third element:

_(c) The Denouement_, or disclosure of the plot just before its close, is one of its most vital parts.

"Novelty and interest in the situations throughout the story, with an _increasing_ interest in the denouement, are the essential demands of a plot."[12]

[Footnote 12: Evelyn May Albright, _The Short Story_.]

It goes without saying that you must interest your audience, but you must also satisfy them--gratify the curiosity you have earlier aroused. It is all very well to write an "absorbing" story, in which the excitement and expectation are sustained up to the very last scene, but be sure that the theme is essentially such that _in_ the last scenes, if not before, your action will unravel the knot that has become so tantalizingly tangled as the play proceeded. No matter how promising a theme may be in other respects, it is foredoomed to failure if from it comes a plot of which the spectator will say as he goes out, "It was a pretty picture--but I couldn't understand the ending."

Another thing: If it is important that, in every case, the spectators must be "shown" what happens in the working out of a plot, it is equally important that they be shown _why_ it happens. This also has to do with sound and comprehensible motivation. "It is not so much a case of 'show me,' with the average American, as a common recognition that there must be a reason for the existence of everything created.

He is inclined to give every play a fair show, will sit patiently through a lot of straining for effect, if there is a _raison d'etre_ in the summing up, but his mode of thought, and it belongs to the const.i.tution of the race, is that of getting at some truth by venturesome experiment or logical demonstration."[13]

[Footnote 13: Louis Reeves Harrison, in _The Moving Picture World_.]

Bear that truth in mind, no matter what you write of, and never start anything that you can't finish--which is simply one way of saying, do not start to write a story _at all_ until you have every scene, situation, and incident, so thoroughly planned, motivated and developed in your mind that when you come to write it out in action in the scenario you cannot help making the audience understand the plot.

Never attempt to introduce even a single situation without a logical cause; be sure that "there's a reason."

"Break away from the old lines," advises Mr. Nehls, of the American Company. "Try to write scenarios that will hold the interest with a not too obvious ending, with sudden, unexpected changes in the trend of the story."

If the story contains a mystery, do not allow the end to be guessed too soon. Interest thrives on suspense and on expectation. The surprising thing, yet the natural ending, swiftly brought about, marks the climax of a good photoplay plot. Many a promising photoplay script has failed because it did not make good its prophecy. The plot opened well, but "petered out"--the complication was a good one, but the unfolding of the mystery, the result of the struggle, the aftermath of the choice, were disappointing.

And one final word in this connection: The _photoplay public loves a "happy ending"--unless it must be forced_.

_3. The Study of Plot-Structure_

A careful study of fictional and dramatic plot will well repay the photoplaywright. But little more can be said here on the technique of plot, though it deserves a treatise in itself; but much will be gained if these few words are taken seriously, and no stories are submitted except those revolving about ORIGINAL, CLEAR-CUT, PLAUSIBLE SITUATIONS SHOWING THE LIVES OF HUMAN BEINGS IN THEIR HOUR OF CRISIS, AND WORKING OUT THE AFTER-RESULTS OF THAT CRISIS WITH LIVELY, DRAMATIC HUMAN INTEREST.

This advice applies even to humor, for humor takes things which are ordinarily serious and by introducing the incongruous makes them laughable. It is the sudden interruption of smooth going, the unexpected shifting of the factors in the problem, the new and surprising condition of affairs, the swift disappointment--it is any of these in countless variety that makes plot possible.

Learn to invent plots. Invent them wholesale--by day, by night. Turn the facts of everyday life into plots. Draw them from jests, from tragedies, from newspapers, from books, from your own heart--and don't omit the heart, whatever else you do omit. At first, invent merely complications; later work out the situation entire. Thus you will cultivate an inventive att.i.tude and at least _some_ good plots are sure to result.