How to write a script
This is how to write a script. Sing it. Songs are effectively short stories. They take us on a journey, they evoke an emotional reaction, and typically they’re less than 5 minutes (80 bars) long.
I’m not promoting the use of songs in this post. Don’t get me wrong, I love “The red car and the blue car had a race” – genius – but the bastardization of the lyrics from popular songs makes my blood boil. I’m raising an eyebrow at you, Aldi! Nor am I promoting the use of poetry in scripts – because if you’re not an accomplished poet, it could go terribly wrong for you.
This post is about taking a different approach to writing scripts.
I’m going to look at two aspects of songs. The first is lyrics and the way we approach those. The second is structure and taking another perspective when writing scripts.
Write scripts with performance in mind
Become a lyrical gangster
In most cases, lyrics are crafted together so that they sit comfortably within the song . They create a pace, an emotion and tell a story. I want to focus on one particular style that I feel is relevant to scriptwriting: Sprechgesang – Spoken singing. Typical examples of this include:
- Rex Harrison’s song, An Ordinary Man, from My Fair Lady.
- Or in Magic of Meghan , by Dry Cleaning.
- Or, my absolute favourite, anything by John Cooper Clarke.
Write scripts with performance in mind. Your script will be read aloud, so when you’re thinking about how to write a script write with a voice in your head.
I’m not advocating that we write poetry; I’m advocating that we write not only with rhythm in mind but with the way each word complements another. Let’s start spoiling the voiceover artist by avoiding those awkward moments in the sound booth when they hit a mellifluent pace and then abruptly halt as they come to a sentence longer than the first line in The Crying of Lot 49.
To illustrate this point, I’m going to share a piece by John Cooper Clarke. If you’re aware of his work, then you’ll immediately hear his voice in your head. If he’s new to you (check him out!!) then read the piece out loud and see where it takes you.
(I married a) monster from outer space – John Cooper Clarke
The milky way she walks around
All feet firmly off the ground
Two worlds collide, two worlds collide
Here comes the future bride
Gimme a lift to the lunar base
I wanna marry a monster from outer space
I fell in love with an alien being
Whose skin was jelly – whose teeth were green
She had the big bug eyes and the death-ray glare
Feet like water wings – purple hair
I was over the moon – I asked her back to my place
Then I married the monster – from outer space
The days were numbered – the nights were spent
In a rent free furnished oxygen tent
When a cyborg chef served up moon beams
Done super rapid on a laser beam
I needed nutrition to keep up the pace
When I married the monster from outer space
(Read the full version here).
This is a perfect example of how your writing can create a tempo, a life of its own!
Structure it like a song
When you write your scripts, you’ll find that you naturally fall into that story arc known by many names – I love Freytag so I’ll go for ‘Freytag’s Pyramid’
Exposition > Rising Action > Climax > Falling Action > Denouement
In a song the story structure is slightly different. Let’s take Babies by Pulp as an example.
We have a tempo change within the chorus that ramps up. So rather than ‘just’ writing a script – we’re forced to think about pace and structure. And lyrically everything in the story relates to the chorus. We also see this in the John Cooper Clarke piece – with each ‘verse’ ending with a line relating to ‘the monster from outer space’.
Your chorus does not need to mention the brand or product (as we want the audience to lose themselves in the piece rather than feel like they’re being sold to) – it needs to reinforce the proposition subtly. We then end up with a piece that builds and is more potent than only referring to the brand at the piece’s climax and again in the tagline.
Turn it up to 11
Ok, so you’ve mastered the idea of writing lyrics rather than just words … let’s take it up a notch …
A typical song structure follows a pattern. And humans love patterns. One typical pattern would be ABABCBB – Verse, Chorus, Verse, Chorus, Bridge, Chorus, Chorus. There are many different song structures – but let’s use this as an example.
However, humans also notice when a pattern changes and, although this can sometimes have adverse effects, sometimes it can bring about excellent results. Take Billie Eilish’s highly acclaimed Bury A Friend (I’d also put it out there that this is another example of Sprechgesang):
This song uses the structure ABCDABBECDA (Hook, Verse, Pre-chorus, Drop, Hook, Verse, Verse, Bridge, Pre-chorus, Drop, Hook) as opposed to ABABCBB.
So, once you’ve perfected writing a structured ABABAB script, try introducing a bridge, and then give a script the complete Billie Eilish treatment!
To conclude
We all flounder when we’re writing scripts. Unless we’re using a template (and your client deserves more than that) – we can spend hours staring at the screen asking, ‘How can I make this richer?’
By giving your script a reason to be – it’s a song! – you have structure. You can now build on that foundation.
What it also gives you is a logical conversation starter for a client. They won’t necessarily understand why you’re telling them ‘no you can’t put that in’ – but they will appreciate it if you explain: ‘Think of the script for a 90-second piece like it’s a song, we’ve structured it so that each line not only has a considered pace but also relates to the “chorus”. If we have to cram 15 benefits into this line then it alters the structure of the whole piece and loses its individuality – here’s a workaround …”
Give it a try – take that script you’re struggling with and just ask yourself “What would John Cooper Clarke do?”
Author: Daniel Spencer