Screenwriting: Enough Syndrome
By Eric M. Boellner | View Source
There is a simple word which is uttered far too often in the world of professional cinema. In fact, it’s uttered too often in life itself. It’s a horrible word that has several meanings, but I’m only talking about one.
Enough.
Good enough, quick enough, strong enough, dramatic enough, funny enough, exciting enough. The list goes on, but I think that’s enough.
There’s a simple idea behind this word - enough. The idea is that what you have just created meets the minimum level of worth required to pass. This logic is foolish and corporate-esque at best. There’s a term for this sort of thing.
Base Value Product.
What you are doing when you allow something that is only “good enough” to pass is creating a Base Value Product - that is, you are achieving the lowest value that you can, and accepting that. There is another word for this. It’s called mediocrity. It is the worst plague affecting the Business.
So let’s use the example of screenwriting, since that’s really where a film begins. You’ve written the first draft. You like it. It gets the story across. It’s good enough. Stop right there, turn around, bend over I want to kick you. In fact, I’ll bend over and let you kick me as well, because I do the exact same thing.
I settle. A major factor of it is laziness. Writing is not hard work. Creating is hard work. And in order to write, you must first create. You must make choices, which are hard. You must think hard, dang hard, about how you can perfect this line, how you can cut this scene a little, or add some depth to that scene. You must be passionate. Because passion (and therefore activity) is the opposite of laziness.
But let’s take it back a step. Sit down at your computer (if you’re already there, stand up and then sit down again). You need a good concept. You need something that will stand out. What to do? Hmm. I know, how about…
Two teenage boys try to win a skateboard competition, against twenty-something opponents.
It’s not the best, but hey, it’s something.
Stop. Seriously, please, just stop. Look at the above sentence (the words that I put in your mouth). Replace “something” with “good enough.“ And voilà, you’re settling already. So add to this the fact that you’ll settle for some “good enough” scene, character and dialogue choices, add the fact that you won’t rewrite it, and if you do it will just be skimming it to make sure that everything’s perfect, and now you’ve got utter garbage for a film (not even taking into account the pathetic directorial choices you’ll settle for).
Don’t give me the bologna about how your idea is nothing like that. It is. Look at it! What are you writing? What is your idea? Is it original? Is it personal? Is it something you need to tell? Is it something you have to force yourself to keep from blabbering to everyone and their grandmother about? I’m guessing not.
Why? Because you settle.
“Well, I just need something to shoot…“ Don’t give me that. You saying that is about the equivalent of a factory line producing unusable toxic waste and saying they needed to make something.
While I agree that you really should be shooting something, regardless of who you are or what gadgets you have access to, there is one thing that everyone has access to. Story. We’ve all got one. Joe (the guy who hired all the bears to walk around with funny signs telling you to eat at his house) has stories to tell. Joe’s grandmother even has stories to tell. But neither Joe nor his grandmother are writers.
Does that mean that everyone knows what it takes to tell a great story? No. Can everyone learn? Probably. Can you learn? Definitely. But it takes one complicatedly simple thing: passion.
But let me tell you, you don’t have to do everything yourself. If you want to focus entirely on direction or special effects or acting or how cool your camera is, try asking a writer to work on something for you. But don’t settle for any of his ideas that are “good enough.“ They have to be great.
Because while a lot of films are good enough to make money, and make you rich and famous, very few are truly great. And it’s the great ones that matter. All the rest are just… less.
