“Those who cannot do, teach.”
It’s one of the worst cliches in the English language – the line that ran through your mind when an overweight gym teacher managed to bark at you to run faster between bites of his hoagie in high school. It also perfectly describes Syd Field, author of “Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting.”
He hasn’t written any popular movies, yet CNN hails him as “the guru of all screenwriters.” His book is considered an industry bible, given to budding screenwriters as a starting off point. So why does a man with no concrete proof of his writing proficiency get to teach how to write a screenplay?
“Screenwriting” gets around this in a very clever way. The book’s message isn’t about talent. Field has a very simple starting point: If you aren’t a good writer, your script won’t be very good. It’s like putting a sea captain’s hat on a monkey. Sure, it’s adorable, but Jojo the chimp isn’t going to rescue ‘The Poseidon Adventure’ any time soon. What Field attempts to teach readers is how to create the skeleton of a script, not the meat.
With this caveat, “Screenwriting” succeeds. It’s one of those trade manuals that explains processes and formats readers probably already know, but does so in such a way that it creates focus and motivation. When picking up a book about screenwriting, odds are you know that a movie should contain three acts and that characters should be active. However, you may not know why.
Field explains the functions of Hollywood script structure clearly and capably, even going so far as to repeat certain things in every chapter. At first it’s annoying and detracts from the experience, but after a while, it becomes a godsend. If you’re not sitting down diligently taking notes, this repetition helps tie the disparate topics together, keeping the important parts fresh and allowing readers to see the script as a whole, rather than an abstract group of parts.
In order to explain how a script actually works on screen, Field uses mainstream Hollywood hits that most readers would have seen. It turns out to be an excellent choice of teaching tools, which grounds the whole book in reality rather than relying on the reader to visualize everything alone. Some, most notably Robert Towne’s immaculate “Chinatown,” show up in most chapters, so readers can see some specifics on every seemingly intangible concept Field brings up.
But Field fails when he forgets his own mission statement. It has caused him to write a book that occasionally exists in an indefinable space. Part of “Screenwriting” reads like self-help, wherein Field seems to generally care about the future screenwriters. The rest of the book is an odd, pompous, over-glorification of Field’s talents. It seems the years of constant praise may have gotten to his head.
For instance, when it comes down to actually showing the reader an extended section of a script, Field chooses a piece of “The Run,” a story he worked on. It would have been far more valuable to a reader to visualize a previously-viewed film, as screenwriting is such a different beast in that regard. If this was done for any reason other than monetary concerns, it seems as if Field’s hubris hurts his book.
All things considered, it’s a minor problem. It may suffer from a bit of an identity crisis, but “Screenwriting” lives up to at least a good portion of its considerable hype. Everything is concise and easy to follow. There are even handy diagrams for those future screenwriters who- hate words, or something. For a beginning screenwriter, there is no better book. Everything aspiring screenwriters are going to need is presented in such a way that putting a script together will be as easy as it can be. You only need to supply the talent.