Session 7 - Visual and Atmospheric Storytelling
Tutor: Jane Pugh
Purpose / Aim of this Session:
Welcome to week seven of our free screenwriting course where we will explore visual and atmospheric storytelling throughout a scene and a script.
How this Session Works:
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Read the Student's Notes
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Do the background reading that accompanies the lecture
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Listen to the lecture
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Do the assignments for this session
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Watch the suggested films
These accompany the lecture for this session.
As the script editor Kate Leys says 'A script must have a beginning, a middle and an end but most of all it must have an end.' How many times have we left the cinema carrying in our heads a range of thoughts and emotions that, if it is a good film, stay with us for days afterwards? How many times have we looked forward to the next episode of our favourite television drama or sit com because we want to become engrossed in the world created for us on screen, we almost forget our own lives? Of course plot and character play a crucial part in provoking such powerful reactions from the film's audience - but so does the atmosphere and the visualisation of the drama. This aspect of the creative process is difficult to analyse and pin point because sometimes in the creating of a piece of art, the work comes into being naturally and instinctively. Even in film making, with all the organising and planning it takes to realise, instinct and natural ability are in constant use. Jane's old friend David Yates, who is directing a total of three Harry Potter films, just seems to know how to get great performances out of his actors. Don't ask her how he does it, he just does! But one doesn't use natural ability and instinct arbitrarily or randomly, creating a visual language and an atmosphere requires careful thought.
This week's session comes in two parts; atmospheric storytelling and visual storytelling.
First let's tackle atmospheric storytelling
We are heading into an area where it is sometimes difficult to know when the writer's job ends and the director's job begins. To be clear, it is the responsibility of the writer to suggest the atmosphere and tone of the script. It is the responsibility of the director to realise that atmosphere and tone on the screen. However, and this is a crucial point, it is NOT the job of the writer to include in his or her script, how the film should be shot. It is not appropriate to write in the stage directions 'close up of Angela's face as she smokes a cigarette.' That is the director's and cinematographer's job.
So without describing shot types in our script, how do we create atmosphere? What tools are in our tool box? What decisions must we make?
There are two questions we must ask ourselves when establishing the tone and atmosphere. 'What kind of film or television drama is this?' and 'What am I trying to say to the world?' Sometimes the answer is very simple 'I am writing a romantic comedy and my message to the world is 'Love conquers all.' Sometimes it is more complex, you might want to write a tragic love story where the characters are in love but are mutually destructive because of the type of world they grew up in and the choices they made such as 'Leaving Las Vegas.' But once you are absolutely clear on what type of drama you are writing and what you want to say to the world, you are ready to make decisions on tone and atmosphere, and you are in a position to know how you will sequence your scenes.
First, let us consider scene and sequence construction:
We have talked a lot about the content of a scene and how a scene must reach its climax and resolution as economically as possible but that does not mean that everything is done in a rush. The pace of the scene depends on the feelings of your character, in other words their inner world: what their objective is in the scene and where the scene is taking place. Often, but not always, the scene setting is in conflict with the character's goal and inner world. For example, they are trying to come to terms with the end of a relationship in a bar full of happy people. The length of the scene depends on how quickly your character does or does not reach their objective. Is it ten seconds long or ten minutes?
I would like to return to dramatic irony at this point. All drama uses dramatic irony but genres such as thrillers and horror stories deploy the use of dramatic irony constantly. Dramatic irony is when one character knows something and another doesn't, when the audience knows something that the character doesn't, or the character knows something that audience doesn't. This is a great technique for creating atmosphere in horrors and thrillers; the 'will they won't they?' thrill of the unresolved storylines that takes us from one progressive problem to the next - and the eventual overall resolution of the film that leaves us collapsed and spent in our seats!
Classically, in horrors, the girl goes out in the woods calling out 'is anyone there?' and we are on the edge of seats because we know or we are almost certain that the assailant is there! That's a rather clichéd and obvious example but the same principles apply to great films and television dramas too. Look at Ridley Scott’s seminal film Alien. The audience know that the alien is in hiding and stuck to the ceiling of the endless dark corridors of the ship but the crew member does not.
But Alien is also a great example of the use of surprise. Jane is old enough to have seen the film when it was first released and she, like millions of others, leapt screaming from her seat when the alien burst out of John Hurt's stomach as the crew sat eating their evening meal.
Use surprise judiciously. However, on closer inspection, the scene in Alien is not entirely a surprise. It is the conclusion of a series of scenes using dramatic irony. We have seen before how one of the Aliens attached itself, hand-like, to John Hurt’s face. We have seen how the crew struggled to keep him alive. But with the subject matter of the film working entirely in tandem with tone and atmosphere of the film, we the audience sensed that when John Hurt seemed to regain consciousness (to the delight and relief of the crew) all was not well.
Secondly, let us consider our colour pallet
If we are writing a script set on a council estate on the outskirts of Manchester, and it is a melancholic story about young men involved in gangs, how would you describe what the setting looks like and what the young men look like? Without going into too much detail, you might decide that your colour pallet is grey, blue and black with a little bit of brick red thrown in. This will help you when you are describing both the setting and what the characters are wearing and the colour of their cars and so on.
If you were writing a script set on a council estate on the outskirts of Manchester and it is a funny and ultimately life-affirming story such as Paul Abbots' Shameless, your colour pallet might be entirely different. It could not only include the white and grey of the estate but also the sparkling street lights outside, star filled skies and fairy lights and oil lamps inside. It could include bright coloured blouses for the women and flashy trainers for the men.
By a simple description of the colours in which you see your story you will see how quickly and easily it is to create an atmosphere.
It is often the case that there is a different atmosphere in different parts of your film and thus a different colour pallet could well be appropriate. If there is an atmosphere that prevails throughout your film, stick to basically the same colours.
You might find it useful to look at some paintings whilst considering the colour pallet of your film. L S Lowry, for example, only ever used about half a dozen different colours to evoke the world of industrialised Manchester in all his many paintings.
You must also think about the principle location and supporting location of the film.
Sometimes this is easy because a writer wants to write a particular place and time such as Lynne Ramsey did in Ratcatcher; urban Scotland during the 1970s bin men's strike.
On other occasions, the writer has thought of an idea in isolation and so they must think of the right setting that best serves their idea. With decisions such as these, try to think as broadly as possible and do not just go for the most obvious choice born out of the world you know. Jane recently experienced this writing a film called In His Shoes about a boy who wants to be a girl and takes the contraceptive pill in the hope of growing breasts. When she first sat down to write it, she came to a scene where the boy was dressed in female clothing and dancing. Inevitably, she kept describing his sparkly dress and how he listened to Shirley Bassey and she thought to myself 'I've seen all this before.' In the end she decided that a British Indian family would best express her story. The femininity of the fabrics and the saris, the music both gentle and powerful, the images of very strong men wearing eye make-up appeared to be the very best way of telling hstory. Inevitably, as a white Northerner she had to do a lot of research!
Props too play an important part but again please do not start detailing every prop in the room as you write. It is the art department’s job to dress the set, not yours. It is appropriate for the writer to use key props that tell us something about the character. Perhaps your character always nervously clutches her handbag or jingles lose change in their pockets. Perhaps they love to water their plants. During her lecture, Jane cites the wonderful adaption of John Le Carre’s book The Constant Gardener. We learn everything we need to know about the main protagonist by the fact that he wants to garden and not think about the injustices in the world...and yet he works for the foreign office. That particular character trait tells us the theme of the story and the journey the main protagonist must take.
Let us not forget the use of sound
Remember that great scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s North By Northwest’? We hear the engines of the crop duster aeroplane before it appears. Just as Cary Grant wonders what on earth is making that noise, so does the audience, then crop duster appears and attacks Cary Grant in the corn field.
David Lynch is a wonderful exponent of sound. In his first feature film Eraserhead, the heating pipes in the apartment block constantly hum and buzz; thus adding to the tension and the claustrophobia that the main protagonist feels.
So going back to our example of someone coming to terms with the end of relationship in a busy bar, perhaps the shrill laughter of a female customer drives our male protagonist crazy. He leaps up from his seat and barges his way out of the bar to take out his fury on an unsuspecting passerby, thus the climax of the scene is achieved through the simple use of sound.
Please note; unless music is integral to the film or television drama, it is not the responsibility of the writer to decide what the music is like and where it should feature.
And so to recap, to create atmosphere use scene and sequence construction, colour pallet, choice of location, essential props and sound.
Part one
For your first exercise we would like you to watch one, or preferably all, of the following films
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The aforementioned Alien by Ridley Scott
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The Servant by Joseph Losey
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Happy Go Lucky by Mike Leigh
All three of these films are highly atmospheric and we would like you to remember just how cinema literate you are (!) by making a note of your response to all the elements within the film.
Part two: Visual storytelling.
The essential law of writing for the big and small screen is to EXTERNALISE EVERYTHING, visualise everything. Over the last few weeks we have talked about
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The three act structure
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The theme
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Dramatic forms and genre
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Characters
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Dialogue
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And today we have talked about atmosphere
We have talked about how to construct scenes, using minimum dialogue, how to create characters for the screen and how the atmosphere of film contributes enormously in the telling of our story.
Do you remember looking at that extract from The Wild Bunch and how the story unfolded without verbal explanations? That type of story telling is only possible on screen. Remember that originally all films were silent. There is a whole heritage that comes before us in the art of telling films visually – and now it is down to you!
For this week's exercise, we would like you to write a short film script using no dialogue. We expect the film to last about five minutes in length. Think carefully what you want your film. What it's about and what genre of film it is. Follow the three act structure. Think about your characters and how you externalise their inner lives. Think about the atmosphere and how it will help you tell your story.
To help you on your way, we will give you some themes but feel free to think of your own if you would prefer.
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Love Will Tear Us Apart
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Stand and Deliver
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The Winner Takes It All
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I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For
As you will note, these are all song titles from Jane's misspent youth. We have given you these song titles for a reason, we don't want you to spend days trying to think of a theme. This is a demanding assignment but don't take it so seriously that you cannot get on and write. Treat it as an exercise no more and no less.
To help you on your way, try and look at The Most Beautiful Man in The World, a wonderful short film that uses no dialogue.
Post your work to the forum for this session. And critique the work of at least two of your fellow students in the anthology for this session.
Please note that any work you post to the course forum is available to the public under a Creative Commons License.
| Content Item Metadata | |
| Academic Level: | Postgraduate |
| Author: | jane pugh |
| Courses: | MA Professional Writing, Character, Dialogue, Dramatics, Film, Forms, Genres, Media, Screenwriting, Scriptwriting, Television, Themes, Writing |
| Media: | Lecture |
| Multimedia Admin Tags: | mp3, ukoer |
| openSpace: | Courses |










