Scenery Chewing

[....]

But I can't seem to stop doing it. Not only do my characters "turn" frequently, they "shrug" and "stop" and "shake their heads" with astonishing regularity. They "frown", "sigh", "puzzle", "react" and do lots of other scenery-chewing actions. My characters are downright twitchy.

I think I know why. They start fidgeting when the scene isn't right; when they are simply exchanging thoughts without strong cause-and-effect.

[...]

If there's something going on under the surface between characters (as there damn well should be), then these futsy little stage directions aren't necessary.

-- Turn Turn Turn via Hollywood Fun Camp.

I almost quoted Scoopy's entire article, but I resisted. Why? Cause its worth reading in full. It certainly made me question what my Internal Monologue has been whispering to my Captain Fragile Ego about My Baby.

Why?

Internal Monologue has been concerned that My Baby has key scenes which are almost entirely dialogue rather than action. He blames Stupid Writing Man for not finding more imaginative locations to stage scenes and for not being... cinematic (fuck). Stupid Writing Man's trusty ally, Mr Rational counters that Internal Monologue should Shut The Fuck Up because well written dialogue is *always* action -- thats what makes it well written (like duh). Despite such counters, Captain Fragile Ego has been whimpering for the last few days as he tries to finish off the current draft of My Baby.

BUT NOW!

Mr Rational embraces this article as ammunition against Internal Monologue because it proves his assertion. If you have 'twitchy' action then its because your dialogue isn't action and thus, sucks (like duh)! Consequently, Mr Rational is trying to convince Captain Fragile Ego that in fact Stupid Writing Man has actually done a good job in these key scenes. A kick ass job, in fact. Evidence by the absence of twitchiness. Unfortunately, Captain Fragile Ego has focused his Insecure Rays on the scenes which HAVE twitchy action... and Internal Monologue has twisted the words of Mr Rational to say: "See all those scenes full of twitchy action? Yeah? THEY BITE ASS. Stupid Writing Man is fucked - he's trying to polish a turd with lipstick. Who cares about these key scenes? They're only key because of the context they're placed in, not because they are approximately 1/3rd of the way through your script. If you're context doesn't work then your key scenes won't work, twitchiness or no twitchness. Oh yeah, by the way, remember how Stupid Writing Man has written entire scenes of twitchy action in his other Works of Lameness? Yeah? Good. No, no, just wondering if you remember."

Meanwhile...

Digression Boy notes that he prefers 'twitchy' action which:

(a) Creates (or reinforces) a relationship, whether it be between two objects, two actors, or an an object and an actor... ; and

(b) Has movement, preferably forward.

e.g. Paul pushes himself against the doorframe; Paul turns away from Scoopy.

Digression Boy continues:

Truly insignificant bits of action have neither movement nor a relationship with anything else... hell, they probably qualify as activities. Just because a character is doing something doesn't mean its action - Mr Rational interjects to stipulate that (and I quote here) 'the danger with the Dialogue isn't Action' theorem is that it creates the corollary assumption that physical activities = always action. "Action" is a special state (like plasma or quantum soup or something) attached to moments / beats which have significance. "

Having been rudely interrupted by Mr Rational, Digression Boy returns to his little pearl of wisdom:

There are often significant bits of small action which are important for the story.

Sometimes this can be a twitchy reaction like 'sigh' or a 'nod', but you need to use them sparingly, otherwise the reader will never understand their imporificance (and thus they'll seem to be the screenwriting equivalent of treading water, aka WASTING OUR FUCKING TIME).

Sometimes they can be what actors call 'business' - tiny bits of action which reveal characterisation (refusing to acknowledge the use of a z in that word) and, eventually, character (if you're good). But you need to embue this business with weight. If a character smokes, why do they smoke? Why do they decide to pull out a cigarette at that particular moment? What if they decide to eat an apple, or drink a beer, or any of that lame shiznit that Stupid Writer Man writes into his Works of Lameness? Don't know the answers to those questions and your business probably isn't business and is just activity. Leave it to the actors and directors to work out in blocking.

Blah blah blah BLah. bLaHH bLAHH. blah.