Film & TV
Lesson time 20:51 min
Discussing Roland's script, Aaron reveals a simple trick that writers can use to justify improbable events in their stories.
Topics include: Table read • Script feedback
The next one is Chronic. Roland Zaleski, you're up. It's a feature script. The full script log line is, "A former explosives expert is kidnapped and wakes up to learn that every time his heart beats 1000 times, a bomb will detonate somewhere in the city of Los Angeles." That's pretty cool. Sample scene description. Flight attendant attempts to disarm a smuggled explosive on a passenger flight with the instructions of Alex Quinn, former bomb expert, who is in the middle of his own mission to track an arms dealer. OK. Interior. Airplane, day. A 747 passenger aircraft, 20 minutes into the air. Sunshine pouring through the windows. Insert Friday at 10:35 AM. Down the aisle-- mothers, fathers, businessmen, tourists, children, brooding teenagers. At the end of the plane-- storage areas, attendant seating, and bathrooms. Lily Thompson-- late 20s, a flight attendant-- knocking on one of the bathroom doors, her patience quickly wearing down. Sir, the pilot has turned on the seat belt sign. I need you to return to your seat, sir. A male attendant breezes past really holding a bag of trash. He stops, recognizing her frustration. Half the time it's a medical issue. And the other half? Masturbation. Oh, sorry. Masturbation He's been in there since take off. You just got excited, that's all. Please be medical. Come on, man, wrap it up. Hello? No response. The attendant removes a key chain from his pocket, singling out a plastic hook device. He wiggles it inside the handle, unlocking the door. James Bond in occupied bathroom. A smirk from the attendant as the door clicks unlocked. Lily pushes it open. Sir? Reveal inside the bathroom-- a middle-aged man crumbled on the floor, his wrists bleeding. Pool of blood all around. Pale skin, dead. Lily screams. Holy shit! The attendant rushes in, checking the man for signs of life. Nothing. He rushes back out, panicked. Close the door. I'll see if I can find a doctor. Lily, stunned, nods. She enters the bathroom, door closed. The hum of the turbines in the BG and a beeping thing. Lily looks around confused. Lily kneels, removing the small trash container from under the sink. The beeping's louder now, coming from inside the trash. Lily roots through the garbage, finding an electronic box, wired plastic molding attached to the back, a countdown on the tiny view screen in the corner-- 4:02, 4:01, 4:00, 3:59. Lily's face turns white as the turbines noise intensifies, merging with the mechanized screeching of-- Interior. Los Angeles subway, day. A subway charging down a passenger platform. Focus on the back of a man waiting for the train. He's off to the next station. Insert 10:37 AM. The man's right arm moves covertly for his ear, listening to the instructions through an earpiece. The man move...
Aaron Sorkin wrote his first movie on cocktail napkins. Those napkins turned into A Few Good Men, starring Jack Nicholson. Now, the Academy Award-winning writer of The West Wing and The Social Network is teaching screenwriting. In this class, you’ll learn his rules of storytelling, dialogue, character development, and what makes a script actually sell. By the end, you’ll write screenplays that capture your audience’s attention.
I bet Aaron writes just to get the dialogue out of his head. How does anyone have that much to say about anything?
There is much to take away, but the most worthy of your time is his heartfelt encouragement and his "your average guy" approach to success.
I'm literally still processing it all. Sooooo goooood. :)
About what - nothing has happened yet. I like his glasses. The sweater vest can go.