I remember reading that “wrylies” are despised by actors and directors, etc.
Something like this: John (sarcastic): “Oh, wonderful!”, with “sarcastic” being the “wryly”.
Why are they despised so much? How do screenwriters convey the tone of the line if they can’t use a wryly? “Oh, wonderful!” on it’s own could be intoned with sarcasm, joy, deflation, etc…
Is it simply that a well written script, by virtue of its construction, will be lean on wrylies and the tone will be conveyed by word choice or situation? Or is it that the director or screenwriter will discuss the scene with the actor beforehand and say, “Ok, I want you to say this line sarcastically.”?
First, because if the writer feels it necessary to insert adverbial directions to the actor, it might not be a well-written script. Second, because the actor doesn’t want to be told how to do their job by the screenwriter. Plays/films/etc are collaborative media, and many actors feel it’s their job to bring interpretation choices to the party.
Exactly. Actors are divas. That’s why they are actors.
As the OP notes, there are other ways of making the intended tone clear in the script without using the parenthetical, or at least using a parenthetical action instead, ex. JOHN (rolling his eyes): “Oh wonderful”. That’ll get across what you want and screenwriting guides would have me believe it’s less distasteful to industry people.
Do you have a cite for that? I wouldn’t know from first-hand experience, but I will check my screenwriting guides. Giving them a specific action not only conveys tone but it gives you a visual image to picture while you are reading a script, which is the number one thing everyone who purports to know anything about screenwriting always says: remember that film is a visual medium.
I went ahead and picked out a random Academy Award-winning script for some examples. (Little Miss Sunshine pdf)
It is a production script, but take a look at*:
Pg. 15: “GRANDPA (waves dismissively)” and on the same page “RICHARD (evenly)” (a definite “wryly”).
Pg. 18: “FRANK (hesitates) … (deep breath)”
Pg. 24: “RICHARD (patient)”
Pg. 28: “GRANDPA (ignores him)”
Pg. 34: “GRANDPA (loudly)” (another adverb)
Pg. 54: “RICHARD (at a loss)”
Pg. 59: “LINDA (fast, indifferent)”
Pg. 60: “LINDA (checks her watch)” same page "LINDA (nods, also restrained)
*page numbers are of the pdf document, which also includes an unnumbered title page, not the script
Etc. etc. It’s not that unusual to see these sorts of directions, even the occasional flat-out adverb, so I disagree with your assessment Zoe. I think the main cautionary advice screenwriting professionals give is not to overuse them. As in, don’t put them in every other line of dialogue.
Pretty much exactly. As an actor who lives outside of Hollywood, I’ve seen my share of absolutely abysmal scripts, and there seems to be a direct correlation between how bad a script is and how many of these “wrylies”* are in it. They’re also commonly a sign of an egotistical/hacky/untrained/control-freak/clueless screenwriter. Almost always seen coupled with the spelling abilities of a 3rd grader.
I was once offered a script that said “(beat)” after every sentence and between every line. I counted 15 or 20 (beat)s on a page and crumpled it up and threw it away. Whoever wrote that should do a one-man puppet show if they want that kind of control.
*Never heard that term but I’ll be using it now. Thanks.
There’s nothing wrong with using them sparingly. But just like (beat), “we see” and exclamation points, you need to keep them to a minimum, or you’ll just piss off whoever is reading it.
Parentheticals interrupt the flow of dialog on a page. Too many of them can completely ruin the rhythm of a scene, and what may otherwise be a great repartee is reduced to a mass of stunted verbiage.
I haven’t acted since I was in college, but I sure as hell wouldn’t care if the director suggested different line readings. I understand the pros hate this, but I always considered my acting abilities to be the directors’ tool for conveying story, and not mine for expressing ego. Obviously, I never turned pro.
…And the really bad scripts will even indicate what the characters are feeling.
Line readings (and to a lesser extent wrylies) are frustrating for an actor because they just tell him how to speak the line, which isn’t helpful direction. It’s more useful for a director to tell an actor what to do at a particular beat. For instance, telling an actor “really needle her with that comeback” will get better results than “say that line sarcastically, like this: <line reading>”.
Also, an actor isn’t just delivering their dialogue on a line-by-line basis. Each line doesn’t exist in a vacuum; its delivery is dependent on the flow and energy that has been building throughout the scene, and dictated by the pace and rhythm of the interchange with other actors in the scene.
So, by the time the line with the “wryly” pops up, saying it wryly might not even be the best possible delivery. If it’s a comedy, there may be a funnier way to say it. If it’s a drama, there might be a more affecting way to deliver it. As a writer, hearing an actor bring a novel (but still founded) delivery for a line is very exciting, and can often elevate the whole scene.
When I’m writing, the best tool for establishing tone and rhythm is punctuation. It implies the pace that you want, without dictating to the actor a particular emotion or action. For example, the “(sarcastically) Oh, wonderful” line in the OP could also be:
JOHN: …Oh. Wonderful.
Or even just: Oh. Wonderful.
And the same sarcastic tone is brought across, usually with more specificity for the actor, since everybody’s take on “sarcastic” is going to be much different.
Here’s a handy metaphor: wrylies and line readings are paint-by-numbers kits. Great scripts are more like the instructions for commissioned portraits: Here, paint my prize pig, maybe in the west pasture at sunset. Good actors, like good painters, come up with brushstrokes and color combos that you wouldn’t necessarily expect, but that work. They work partly because that actor is good at those brushstrokes and knows how to use them effectively.
Line readings and wrylies *can *work, but seriously, most of that is the actor’s job, and you’ll get better work out of any artist if you let them do what they do.
Surely you’ve come across wryly-happy fiction writers? They bug the crap out of me as a reader – you shouldn’t have to adverb all your dialogue to death to get me to picture your characters vividly.
For an example of top-notch playwriting with a bare minimum of wryliezation, see Maria Irene Fornes, or, of course, Shakespeare. I’ll bet you a nickel that the writer of the script **Cisco **mentions idealized Pinter, who did that “pause” thing… but very very well; an example of a rule you get to break if you’re a master. Pinter done by bad actors is excruciatingly painful, in part because if the actors simply pause where they’re told without having a reason for it (the famous “motivation”), it’s pointless. Pinter done by great actors can be exquisite (I’m thinking of the *Old Times *made for the BBC with John Malkovich, Kate Nelligan, and Miranda Richardson, but can’t find clips of it online) because the actors have figured out what possible thoughts a person would be having that would make them pause right then, after saying those words.
If it’s a production script, then it’s going to be pretty different from what the original screenwriters actually wrote. I’m sure a lot of aspiring screenwriters make the mistake of thinking that their scripts are supposed to look like production scripts, with the “wrylies”, pauses, gestures, camera angles, etc., included, but they are not.
The production script is so named because it is the script used when the movie goes into production. The crew needs to have a pretty solid idea of what is going to be happening on camera, but the screenwriter is not the person who gets to decide all of that his/herself. A lot of what goes into the production script will have been added by the director and others.
“Wrylies” probably bother actors in part because they don’t like the writer telling them how to do their jobs, and in part because they’re usually just taking up space on the page. The advice I’ve read for aspiring screenwriters says to include them only if they are essential to understanding the scene AND are not obvious from the actual dialogue.
If Jane says “Honey, come here, the dog threw up again!” then it’s unnecessary to write John’s response as
John (sarcastic): Oh, wonderful!
This is obviously a sarcastic comment, it doesn’t need to be described as such.
I’m aware of the difference. I only called it a production script because it has camera angles, but it’s actually not a final production script because the scenes are not numbered. So it’s just one of many revisions along the way.
You are mistaken in claiming the “wrylies, pauses, and gestures” would only be found in a production script and not in an earlier version by the screenwriter though. Camera angles are the big thing that they usually caution writers against, with the other things being O.K. as long as they are not used too heavily. It depends on the writer and how much clout he has too - if it’s being written by the same person who is going to direct it, he can pretty much do whatever the hell he wants.
That isn’t what I claimed, though. I claimed (correctly) that it is not the screenwriter’s job to put in ALL the “wrylies, pauses, and gestures” and that advice for aspiring screenwriters generally holds that “wrylies” should only be included if they are important to the scene and not obvious from the dialogue/context.
*Well, if the writer is also the director then obviously he or she would not be limited to only doing the job of the writer.
I am an actor and a writer. Most actors don’t seem to realize that hundreds of people use the script to create a movie or a play. First, we write for people with the money to make the thing, then for the people who get everything ready months before the actors show up and bump into the furniture. I know actors are delicate souls. I put “wrylies” in just to distract them, challenging them to defy me and play the scene differently. Tension is a wonderful thing.
All of this bellyaching by actors would be easier to accept if I didn’t hear so many lines read in clunky ways that are obviously contrary to the intent with which they were written, and which destroy or subvert the meaning.
Sorry, but actors aren’t necessarily that bright. Some of them need some hand-holding by the writer.