Save the Cat! (4 page)

And even do some test marketing.

What's that, you ask?

A TEST MARKETING EXAMPLE

I have posed the possibility that you hold off on writing your script until you get a killer logline and title. I know this is painful. But here's where it pays off. I have just been working with a screenwriter online. He did not have his logline. He
did
have a good idea — or at least the start of one — but the logline was vague, it didn't grab me. I sent him back to the dreaded
Page One
(an almost total rewrite). He bitched and moaned, but he did it.

He put away his story and all the vivid scenes and the recurring motifs and started writing loglines — an awful, soul-eating chore. He tried to come up with ones that were still his story, but which met the criteria. What he discovered, after many failed attempts, was that he had to start fudging his logline to get it to have irony, audience and cost, a clear sense of what the movie promised, and a killer title. Arid when he finally let go of his preconceived notions of what his story was — voila! The logline changed.

Soon, he started getting better response from people he pitched to, and suddenly, voila!
^#
2 — his story started to change to match the logline, and voila! #3 — the story got better! The irony of what he
sort of
had was brought into better focus. And when it was put into a pithy logline form, the conflicts were brought into sharper focus too. They had to! Or else the logline wouldn't work. The characters became more distinct, the story became more clearly defined, and the logline ultimately made the actual writing easier.

The best thing about what this screenwriter discovered is that he saved everybody, all down the line, a whole lot of money and trouble. Can you imagine trying to do these kinds of logline fixes during postproduction? It's a little late by then. Before anyone spent a dime, using only paper, pencil, and his own wits, he did everyone's job for them. He not only made it easier for the guy with the newspaper to pitch to his friends, but he gave them a better story once they got to the movie theater. All because he had given his project a better "What is it?"

The other great part about road-testing your logline is that you have the experience of all-weather pitching. I pitch to anyone who will stand still. I do it in line at Starbucks. I do it with friends and strangers. I always spill my guts when it comes to discussing what I'm working on, because:

a. I have no fear that anyone will steal my idea (and anyone who

has that fear is an amateur) and...

b. You find out more about your movie by talking to people one-on-one than having them read it.

This is what I mean by "test marketing."

When I am about to go pitch a studio, when I am working on a new idea for a movie, or when I can't decide which of four or five ideas is best, I talk to "civilians." I talk to them and I look in their eyes as I'm talking. When they start to drift, when they look away, I've lost them. And I know my pitch has problems. So I make sure that when I pitch to my next victim, I've corrected whatever slow spot or confusing element I overlooked the first time out. And most of all, it's really fun to do.

A typical scenario goes like this:

INT. COFFEE BEAN AND TEA LEAF - SUNSET PLAZA - DAY A melange of starlets, weekend Hell's Angels, and Eurotrash snobs sip double mocha frappes. Blake Snyder eyes the crowd. He approaches the person who seems least likely to hit him.

BLAKE SNYDER Hi, could you help me?

STRANGER (dubious)

What is it? I have a Pilates class in ten minutes.

BLAKE SNYDER Perfect, this will only take a second. I'm working on a movie idea and I wanted to know what you think.

STRANGER (smiling, looks at watch) Okay...

This, to me, is the perfect set-up and one that I repeat with all age groups, in all kinds of situations, all over Southern California — but especially with the target audience of whatever I'm working on.

This kind of test marketing is not only a great way to meet people, it's the only way to know what you've got. And a "pitchee" who is thinking about being somewhere else is the perfect subject. If you can get
his
attention, if you can
keep
his attention, and if he wants to know more about the story you're telling, you've really got a good movie idea.

What you'll also find by getting out from behind your computer and talking to people is how that true-life experience that happened to you in summer camp in 1972, the story that you are basing your entire screenplay on that means so much to you, means nothing to a stranger. To get and keep that stranger's attention, you're going to have to figure out a way to present a compelling "What is it?" that does mean something to him. Or you're going to be wasting your time. There are a lot more strangers than friends buying tickets to movies. No matter who is encouraging you on the friend side of your life, it's the strangers you really need to impress.

What better way to find out what you've got than to actually go out and ask?

THE "DEATH" OF HIGH CONCEPT

All of the above dances around a term that many people in Hollywood hate:
high concept.
The term was made famous by Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner in their heyday as young gurus running Disney.

To them it meant just what we've been discussing here — making the movie easier to see — and they came up with a long run of successful high concept movies. All you had to do was look at the
one-sheet
(another name for the poster) and you knew "What is it?" for
Ruthless People, Outrageous Fortune,
and
Down and Out in Beverly Hills.
Like most fashionable terms it's now out to say your project is high concept. The death of high concept has been proclaimed many times. But like a lot of what I'm going to discuss throughout this book, I care less about what is
au currant
and more about what works and what is simple common sense.

In my opinion, thinking "high concept," thinking about "What is it?" is just good manners, common courtesy if you will. It's a way to put yourself in the shoes of the customer, the person who's paying good money, including parking and a babysitter, to come and see your film. And don't kid yourself, as brilliant as these two visionaries are, Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg didn't invent high concept, it's been around from the beginning.

Think about every Preston Sturges movie hit from the 1940s —
Christmas In July, Hail the Conquering Hero, Lady Eve,
even
Sullivan's Travels
— all high concept ideas that drew people into theatres based on the logline and poster.

Think about every Alfred Hitchcock thriller ever made —
Rear Window, North by Northwest, Vertigo
and
Psycho.

Just mentioning these movies to a true fan evokes the pitch and the poster of each story. And check out those titles. All of them, across the board, certainly say what it is and they do so in a way that's not on the nose or stupid (well,
Psycho
is potentially lame, but we'll let him off the hook on that one — it's Hitchcock, after all).

The point is that if someone gives you static about your high concept idea, just smile and know that clearly and creatively presenting a better "What is it?" to a potential audience — no matter who they are or what position they occupy in the chain — never goes out of fashion. I defy those who think this is a game for salesmen and not filmmakers to come up with a better title than
Legally Blonde.
And as we will see in the next chapter, we're only at the beginning of finding ways to put yourself in the shoes of the moviegoer.

And that is what we should
all
be doing more of.

SUMMARY

So are your synapses starting to misfire? Are the growing pains too much? Well, whether this is old news or new news, the "What is it?" is the only place to begin this task of ours. The job of the screenwriter, especially one writing on spec, must include consideration for everyone all along the way, from agent to producer to the studio exec who decides what gets made. And that job starts with that question: "What is it?"

Along with a good "What is it?" a movie must have a clear sense of what it's about and who it's for. Its tone, potential, the dilemma of its characters, and the type of characters they are, should be easy to understand and compelling.

In order to better create a good "What is it?" the spec screenwriter must be able to tell a good one-line or logline — a one- or two-sentence grabber that tells us everything. It must satisfy four basic elements to be effective:

1. Irony. It must be in some way ironic and emotionally involving — a dramatic situation that is like an itch you have to scratch.

2.
 A compelling mental picture. It must bloom in your mind when you hear it. A whole movie must be implied, often including a time frame.

3. Audience and cost. It must demarcate the tone, the target audience, and the sense of cost, so buyers will know if it can make a profit.

4. A killer title. The one-two punch of a good logline must include a great title, one that "says what it is" and does so in a clever way.

This is all part of what is called "high concept," a term that came about to describe movies that are easy to see. In fact, high concept is more important than ever before, especially since movies must be sold internationally, too. Domestic box office used to account for 6o% of a movie's overall profit, but that figure is down to 40%. That means movies must travel and be understood
everywhere
— over half of your market is now outside the U.S. So while high concept is a term that's not fashionable, it's a type of movie all Hollywood is actively looking for. You just have to figure out a quicker, slicker way to provide high concept ideas.

Finally, this is all about intriguing the audience, so a good way to road test an idea is to get out from behind your computer and pitch it. Pitch your movie to anyone who will listen and adjust accordingly. You never know what valuable information you can learn from a stranger with a blank expression.

EXERCISES

1. Pick up the newspaper and pitch this week's movie choices to a friend. Can you think of ways to improve the movie's logline or poster?

2. If you are already working on a screenplay, or if you have several in your files, write the loglines for each and present them to a stranger. By pitching in this way, do you find the logline changing? Does it make you think of things you should have tried in your script? Does the story have to change to fit the pitch?

3. Grab a
TV Guide
and read the loglines from the movie section. Does the logline and title of a movie say what it is? Do vague loglines equate with a movie's failure in your mind? Was its lack of a good "What is it?" responsible in any way for that failure?

4- If you don't have an idea for a screenplay yet, try these five games to jump-start your movie idea skills:

a. GAME #1a: Funny_

Pick a drama, thriller, or horror film and turn it into a comedy. Example: Funny
Christine
— The haunted dream car of a teenage boy that ruins his life now becomes a comedy when the car starts giving dating advice.

b. GAME #1b: Serious_

Likewise, pick a comedy and make it into a drama. Serious
Animal House
— Drama about cheating scandal at a small university ends in
A Few Good Men
-like showdown.

c. GAME #2: FBI out of water

This works for comedy or drama. Name five places that a FBI agent in the movies has never been sent to solve a crime. Example: "Stop or I'll Baste!": Slob FBI agent is sent undercover to a Provence Cooking School.

d. GAME #3: _School

Works for both drama and comedy. Name five examples of an unusual type of school, camp, or classroom. Example: "Wife School": Women sent by their rich husbands soon rebel.

e. GAME #4: VERSUS!!!

Drama or comedy. Name several pairs of people to be on opposite sides of a burning issue. Example: A hooker and a preacher fall in love when a new massage parlor divides the residents of a small town.

f. GAME #5: My_Is A Serial Killer

Drama or comedy. Name an unusual person, animal, or thing that a paranoid can suspect of being a murderer. Example: "My Boss Is A Serial Killer." Guy gets promoted every time a dead body turns up at the corporation — is the murderer his employer?

And if you come up with a really good logline for a family comedy, here is my e-mail address:
[email protected]
.
I'd be happy to hear a good one... if you think you've got it.