Elevator Pitches
Making Your Script Shine: Three Essentials
Seek Varied Feedback:
Invite AT LEAST five individuals to delve into your script. They don't need to hold a film degree, just an appreciation for cinema.
Show gratitude for their time with a gesture - perhaps a bottle of their cherished drink.
If more than one person points out a specific issue, it's a signal for you to address it.
Staged Reading:
Partner with your local theatre group to conduct a reading. This experience can be invaluable in identifying what clicks and what falls flat.
Create a relaxed atmosphere; perhaps throw in some bagels for everyone.
Professional Insights:
If you can, spend on a pro to analyze your script. But remember, it shouldn't burn a hole in your pocket - let’s say no more than $500.
Potential spots to find adept readers? Production houses or dedicated script consultation services.
Crafting a Gripping Story: Elevator Pitches & Beyond
“He who cannot set boundaries will never master the art of writing.”
– Nicholas Boileau
It's a jungle out there. And in this dense jungle, elevator pitches are your sharpened arrows.
The genesis of the term? The average elevator ride: a concise 118 seconds, as one moves from the ground to a hotel's topmost floor. Corporate dynamos use this window to sell, inform, or persuade.
But for a writer? Imagine you have a mere five seconds. Perhaps ten if you're speaking to someone patient (a rarity, I assure you).
Whether penning an email to a studio executive or making that nerve-wracking call to an agent, cut to the chase. And pronto.
Here's my mantra for the budding screenwriter:
Your narrative, in essence, is about a CHARACTER who is compelled to ACCOMPLISH something. But if they falter, a massive, earth-shattering CONSEQUENCE awaits.
Consider:
The objective should be the protagonist's worst nightmare.
The stakes? Make them personal. Palpable.
The goal should be explicit. For instance, Andy Dufresne from “Shawshank Redemption” didn’t just yearn for freedom. He aspired for a specific life in Mexico, manning his boat.
The challenge must be arduous, layered with irony.
The core idea? Fresh as morning dew.
For example, a tale of a librarian organizing books under the looming threat of a missed fourth-grade assignment? Weak stakes, minimal conflict.
Or a rehash of the “Sister Act” plot? Old wine in a slightly modified bottle.
But imagine this:
A librarian, usually content amidst her books, is thrust back in time to treacherous terrains. She must save Shakespeare from a malevolent warlord. If she fails? Centuries of rich western literature risk being obliterated.
Or...
To unearth an elusive Shakespeare manuscript, our librarian must step into the diametrically opposite world of a stripper.
Here, you have a concoction of high stakes and an unexpected journey, replete with contrasts.
Given a choice, I’d pick the latter. It promises a rollercoaster of emotions, challenges, and most importantly, growth.
But let's take it up a notch:
To save her estranged, younger sibling from the clutches of the underworld, a reserved librarian plunges into the world of strip clubs, all the while searching for a lost Shakespearean play.
Now, that's a story I'd pay to watch.