Writing the Comedy Movie

Marc Blake

• Publisher: Bloomsbury Academic
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781628925937
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Medios de comunicación y artes escénicas
• Subtopic: Escritura de guiones de cine

It is often suggested that there are 'secrets' to comedy or that it is 'lightning in a bottle', but the craft of comedy writing can be taught. While comedic tastes change, over time and from person to person, the core underpinning still depends on the comedic geniuses that have paved the way. Great comedy is built upon a strong foundation. In Writing the Comedy Movie, Marc Blake lays out – in an entertainingly readable style – the nuts and bolts of comedy screenwriting. His objective is to clarify the 'rules' of comedy: to contextualize comedy staples such as the double act, slapstick, gross-out, rom com, screwball, satire and parody and to introduce new ones such as the bromance or stoner comedy. He explains the underlying principles of comedy and comedy writing for the screen, along with providing analysis of leading examples of each subgenre.

Chapter 1

Writing The Comedy Script

What prompts us to action is desire; and desire has three forms – appetite, passion, wish.

ARISTOTLE, MAGNA MORALIA

The twenty-first-century comedy writer is no longer restricted by international boundaries and, with easily available software, he or she can submit industry-standard work from anywhere in the world and place it on websites such as Ink Tip or Blacklist. On these, the writer is required to register his work with the East or West Coast American Writers Guild or equivalent in their country. This is for copyright purposes and to protect the work. Professional readers and producers will then view it if the logline and synopsis appeals. The writer can also approach agents and production companies directly with scripts, but they operate a filter system and few get through. In order to get to the reading stage, many hurdles must be overcome.

The only visible difference between comedy and other scriptwriting is that it tends to leave a lot of white on the page: also, scene descriptions are minimal, letting the comedy flow. Just enough is needed to convey character, action and comedy. Comedy requires a tone and a style, a rhythm to it that keeps you laughing as you flick through the pages. Two vital elements are ‘hilarity and heart’ (Giglio 2012), in the sense that we must laugh, but the laughter must contain empathy. Many also involve idiot characters for comedy is often the fool’s journey toward enlightenment. To engage us they must be human and likeable. Shakespeare wrote his fools to be laughed at, but the fool is often the smartest guy in the room.

The simple layout of comedy scripts (all that white space) does not mean you can stint in depth of characterization, complexity of plot or in any aspect of its execution, it means that less is more. An easy read is the ultimate goal and there is no need to include detailed directorial instructions of how the visual comedy ought to work or tell the actors how to (ANGRILY) say their lines. Simplicity is best.

A lot of comedy works with the juxtaposition of word and image. In Springbreakers (Korine 2012) when Faith makes a call home to her Grandmother, we hear the voiceover, but we see.

Faith (v/o):

It’s the most beautiful trip.

The Spring Break girls are partying hard, a bunch of guys pour alcohol over their naked breasts.

Faith (cont.):

It’s the most spiritual place I’ve ever been.

The four girls are now squatting down, urinating in the street.

This is all you need, no prose or context – simply a description of what you see. You write as though you are the camera, therefore you write what the camera sees and no more. There are subtle ways of implying the shot in your writing. ‘Arthur stands wailing on Brighton Beach’ suggests a medium to wide shot, whilst ‘He weeps a solitary tear’ can only be a close up.

It can happen off screen too. In Adam’s Rib (Cukor 1949) much of the comedy occurred between warring married partners District Attorney Adam Bonner (Spencer Tracy) and Public Defender Amanda (Katherine Hepburn). As the camera dallied in a bedroom set, the pair headed to their respective bathrooms and the comedy came from the noises off, with their heads appearing only briefly in shot. Jay Roach’s Austin Powers series uses the gimmick well in several sequences, often involving henchmen.

The screenplay is the blueprint for the movie. The comedy comes out of character and situation. If you have conceived of a potentially hilarious concept and peopled it with the right cast then it ought to write itself. You never need to explain the joke. The wording must be clear and simple, as must the description of visual or running gags.

In the first ten pages you will introduce the cast one by one so that we will understand who is the protagonist and whom he or she relates to in their world. We need to know who they are and what their theme is. When you introduce a character for the first time it is acceptable to put in a line of description for the major players:

David Huxtable, a buttoned up paleontologist, to whom fretting is second nature. He’d be free as a bird if his fiancé would only let him.

Howard Hawks, Bringing Up Baby (1938)

You have a brief opportunity for prose here. The line has to give a sense of the man and his situation, not his physical type beyond a rough idea of age. In any case, male movie stars are usually in their thirties or forties as it has taken them at least a decade or more to create a brand. Women tend to start younger, in their late teens. There are plenty of terms to describe characters (see ‘Women in Comedy’) but try not to sink to cliché. You may be writing about a frump, a ditz or a good time girl but the shorthand is outmoded. Find new ways to express this. Cameron Diaz in Bad Teacher (Kasdan 2011) looks like she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose but the IMDb script draft is less explicit.

ELIZABETH HALSEY, mid 20s, pretty and petite, walks up to the front. She sports an enormous diamond ring and dresses slightly more cosmopolitan than the other teachers.

Every line of dialogue must have a purpose and there is little room for interjection, repetition, verbal niceties and colloquialism of speech (but, surely, so, and). As in Sitcom we begin each scene in media res and at the last possible moment.

KNOCKED UP (Apatow 2007: IMDb Scripts)

EXT. BEN’S HOUSE – DAY

BEN STONE, 23, cute in a chunky Jewish guy sort of way, boxes one of his roommates, MARTIN. His other roommates, JAY and JASON fight with broom sticks. JONAH drinks beer on the couch spectating.

QUICK IMAGES:

We see Ben and Jay fighting. At one point they fight with gloves which are on fire, balancing on a plank over a dirty pool. Ben now has a fishbowl filled with weed smoke over his head. There is a smoking joint in his mouth, making the bowl get cloudier and cloudier. He starts coughing hysterically and takes it off.

A boom box is playing. The boys are now freestyle rapping. It is terrible but they are having a blast. Pot is being smoked. Beer is around.

The above sets out what kind of a guy Ben Stone is, immature and in stasis, but without specifically saying this. Instead, it shows us in montage – thus allowing the director and actors to play with the idea.

A block of dialogue ought to rarely last for more than four to five lines and even a long, heartfelt or expository monologue necessitates visual cutaways, reactions or comments to break it up. In the opening of Wedding Crashers, Jeremy (Vince Vaughn) makes a long speech to his bromance Buddy Jack (Owen Wilson) about ‘the rules’. This is more of a comic rant or a list of dos and don’ts. These can be funny in themselves but they must be earned. The comedy comes from a character trait, used by Vaughn and Dan Aykroyd and harking back to Groucho Marx, that of the absurdly over-confident guy. It is something that Steve Martin and Jack Black mock well.

The comedy here comes from the sheer verbosity, truth or obscenity involved in this rococo style of speech. The mere fact of it being so unusually long and breathless puts us on tenterhooks and when we reach the end … the combination of release and relief almost forces the laugh.

Conversely, though a line might only be a single word, it ought to have attitude behind it: Your ‘yeah’, ‘okay’ or ‘well’,1 must convey either opposition or agreement, helping to advance character even if it hinders the desire of the protagonist. This is why sarcasm and irony are so popular in comedy.

The rhythm of dialogue can hark back to screwball or Marx Brothers’ cross-talk by being fast and furious, as in When Harry Met Sally (Reiner 1989) or Anchorman (McKay 2004), using overlapping speeches, fast intercutting and cruel remarks – or it can be to the point, allowing the comedy to come across in visual reactions or cutting away to a new scene. Smart New York dialogue ought not to be spoken by every character, as that would become wearing. Each character, even if they are Upper West Side natives, ought to have their own speech rhythms, as Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer do in Seinfeld. Look how Oscar opposes Felix (The Odd Couple), Melvin antagonizes Carol (As Good As it Gets) and George (Paul Rudd) and Linda (Jennifer Aniston) bicker in Wanderlust.

What we say and what we do are different things. Just as we are judged on our actions, comedy works by upsetting this and offering the truth. Sideways (Payne 2004) begins with Miles Raymond woken by Mexican workers who need him to move his car. He is hung over. On his return to his condo, he sees the clock and phones his best friend Jack, explaining that he is on his way and will be there by midday. We cut to him reading on the can. Then showering, then flossing, then getting a coffee in the car, then doing a crossword as he drives. The dissonance is amusing and tells us a lot. Once he arrives at his best friend’s in-law’s house we learn that he doesn’t respect them, and by extension, himself. He doesn’t want his friend Jack, a recidivist hound dog, to marry. He doesn’t want to lose him. It tells us so much with no need for dialogue. He’s a sad sack, brilliantly played by Paul Giamatti. He is Charlie Brown.

Adverbs and adjectives ought to be pruned out and strong verbs are the order of the day. Prose (purple or otherwise) and metaphor are also unnecessary. Also, try to avoid similes. We do not talk in them. Clever sitcom people use them but in real life – as your movie ought to try to imitate – we never have the time to come up with the mot juste, instead thinking of it on the stairs (what the French call l’esprit d’escalier) or days afterwards, at home.

You are writing in one media that will ultimately be interpreted in another. You are aiming to present a picture in the mind of a reader, a picture of real people in a situation that is inherently comedic. That is not to say you cannot introduce drama, as most comedies have a dramatic premise at their heart:

•Two musicians witness the St Valentine’s Day Massacre and flee for their lives;

•On the Wedding day the Best Man and buddies discover they have lost the groom;

•A man is trapped in his life, which repeats itself day after day.

Scenes can be as long as five pages or as short as a single line of description. If you have a long scene there had better be plenty goi...