Screenplay Review: The Usual Suspects (1995)

I have yet to find a script that is as engaging or suspenseful as Christopher McQuarrie’s crime drama, The Usual Suspects. It’s no wonder that McQuarrie won an Academy Award in 1995 for ‘Best Original Screenplay’.  This response is going to be an evaluation of the script only. Although the acting and cinematography is excellent in the movie, the script is its own experience that deserves recognition. The script is the foundation; where everything begins

McQuarrie’s attention to detail is outstanding. He finds the perfect balance of dialogue and narrative. Despite what some people believe, a screenplay is not simply all dialogue with a line about the setting here and there. Like a recipe, a successful screenplay should be equal parts dialogue and narrative.  We need vivid descriptions of characters and locations to give the dialogue weight and context. In The Usual Suspects, one of the first characters to be introduced is Fred Fenster who is described as a man “dressed conspicuously in a loud suit and tie with shoes that have no hope of matching” (4). Before this character even utters a single word, we immediately understand that this is a person with his own sense of style; an eccentric character with an outward personality to match his appearance. All of this came from one line. The descriptions don’t have to be long, comprehensive paragraphs, just a line or two that leaves a lasting impression in the reader’s mind.

Without spoiling anything, the movie is about a group of five criminals told primarily through flashbacks by one of the members: a man named Roger “Verbal” Kint. People call him Verbal because he “never stops talking” (See! More specific, stand out details). Verbal and the gang were involved in a series of jobs that led up to a shoot-out on a dock. He is one of the only survivors that isn’t in critical condition. The jumping back and forth between the past and present leaves things feeling fresh. Before we can get tired of one story, we are thrown into the other.

McQuarrie holds our attention by keeping the action constant and masterfully building up to the finale. At the start of the script, we are given a description of war torn dock. A man takes a final drag of a cigarette and then there is a gunshot. Not even two pages go by and someone might be dead. This is how you hook an audience. We then learn about the man on the dock, Dean Keaton. Through flashbacks, we see the kind of man that Keaton was before the shoot-out occurs. The action is continued by Verbal recounting the jobs that he and the gang pull off. With each job, the stakes get higher and the conflict grows larger. It propels them further toward the climax of the piece.

Good writing conveys the best suspense

Another aspect that this script excels in is having a large, distinguishable cast without confusing characters, which can be difficult to pull off. The script introduces a few characters at a time and lets the audience observe how they act and how they talk. Good characterization is essential here because without it, every character will end up sounding and acting the same. In a script with unique characters, we should be able to read a line of dialogue without looking at the name and be able to tell which character is talking. The characters each have their own distinct voice. The hot-headed and foul mouthed McManus is a completely different character than Keaton who is usually calm and collected.

The dialogue in the script is equally as interesting and unique as the descriptions. Rarely do characters give direct responses to each other. They let their attitudes and subtexts do all the REAL talking. When the intimidating Special Agent Kujan asks Verbal a fairly obvious question, Verbal fires back with blunt, sarcastic answer:

                             KUJAN

                     (smiling)

You know a dealer named Ruby Deemer,  Verbal?

                             VERBAL

You know a religious guy named John Paul? (35)

Verbal’s subtext in that line is saying “No shit, Sherlock. Everyone knows Ruby!” Compare that to all the other less interesting but more obvious answers that McQuarrie could have given Verbal: “Yes!” “Maybe…” “I’m not answering.” The trick is to go for the least obvious response possible.

Another area where McQuarrie goes for the less obvious description is when Agent Kujan rushes out of the building into a crowd of people. Instead of simply stating “Kujan bursts out of the office looking dazed,” we get:

“A moment later, Agent David Kujan of U.S. Customs wanders into the frame, looking around much in the way a child would when lost at the circus” (120)

By using this simile the audience can instantly get a vivid image of what’s happening or how a character is acting.

Early on in the script we are introduced to the idea of this criminal mastermind who may or may not exist. Everyone is the script is asking: “Who is Keyser Soze?” Much like “Who is John Galt?” in the novel Atlas Shrugged, the mystery behind this particular character keeps the audience engaged. We learn of Soze’s supposed backstory; his brutality and cunning wit. The gang goes from doing simple heist jobs for Soze to plotting his execution.

The aspects of good storytelling that this script gets right like characterization and specific descriptions are lessons that writers of any genre can take advice from. The only thing that is unique to screenwriting is the rapid pace that scripts must follow to keeps an audience’s interest.  But even then, writers can learn how to trim their pieces down and keep only the most essential details that move the story along. It’s possible to turn a good script into a bad movie, but nearly impossible to turn a bad script into a good movie.

Now go be awesome!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

-The Critic

Save The Cat by Blake Snyder (Craft Book)

I was always more of a dog person

Save the Cat by Blake Snyder is a great reference for newcomers to screenwriting and veterans alike. Snyder has written and co-written over 75 screenplays and even worked directly with Spielberg on the film, Nuclear Family. Snyder has a very down-to-earth voice that finds the perfect balance of humor and practical advice. His unique take on the common rules and points of screenwriting keep this book feeling fresh. Snyder offers exercises at the end of each chapter to help with various facets of screenwriting from testing out a log line to making sure that the writer understands and develops the characters thoroughly.

I found the chapters on log line and premise to be very helpful when a person is in the early stages of screenplay formation. Before reading this book, I used to start writing screenplays with a couple of loose ideas in mind, hoping that the rest of the story would follow once I began writing. Snyder makes clear the importance of a log line and how a person should be able to “see” the entire movie in just one or two lines. This is also helpful when pitching to a producer or agent. A strong and interesting log line is the foundation of a successful screenplay. The entire story fits in those few lines; it’s just a matter of expanding it. The hook, the twist, and the main character’s major struggle should all be stated in the log line.

This book is what got me to start using a storyboard when mapping out scenes. What Snyder refers to as “The Board” is a simple board that a writer can use to break down the acts of the screenplay and organize the scenes that occur in each act. Snyder also suggests that that there is an emotional change in every scene. This helps ensure that only the best and most worthwhile scenes get into a script.

When referring to genres, instead of using tired phrases like horror or comedy, Snyder has invented his own genres like “dude with a problem” or “monster in the house.” These terms that sound oddly specific actually encompass almost any movie title out there and Snyder challenges the reader to prove him wrong. He discusses what makes these genres so successful and the driving force of each. For example, “monster in the house” is any movie where the main point is the primal need to survive in an enclosed area. Obvious titles like Psycho, Silence of the Lambs fall under this category, but also movies like Titanic that the reader wouldn’t automatically assume.

It’s no secret that Snyder lives by structure. He references Syd Field multiple times as his biggest inspiration and like many people he refers to Field as the “godfather” of screenwriting. As a result, Snyder is very insistent when it comes to the basic structure and what should be occurring on each page. For example, Snyder insists that the catalyst for the story occur on page 12 and exactly page 12. Not page 11 and not page 13. Page 12! He even goes as far as to say that when he reads a script, he will turn to certain pages to make sure something specific is happening on that page. If Snyder doesn’t see this then he will have doubts about the particular script even before reading its entirety. Personally, that’s a little ummm crazy, neurotic, high strung…

“The Board,” a very helpful tool in plotting

While I believe good structure is important to a well-executed script, some of Snyder’s rules seem a bit too rigid at times. Aside from Snyder’s obsession with major things happening on certain page numbers, Snyder also has some unbreakable rules for characters as well. For example, Snyder says that every character in the script must go through a change by the end, except for the bad guy. According to Snyder, the bad guy never changes, ever! Also, the main character must never ask questions. Snyder believes the main character must be the leader of the story for the entire time and he/she can’t do that if they’re asking questions. Yeah… main characters are humans too. Let them ask away.

While I may not agree with everything Snyder says, this book is a great guide to have, especially at the beginning stages of a script. It challenges script writers to find the weak parts of their work and turn them into strengths. It’s a quick read so take a look.

-The Critic