Lately I’ve been doing some intense study of Limitless for work. Analyzing movies is something we should all be doing, though – you can glean a lot of insight from what works and what doesn’t.

I wouldn’t put Limitless on my Top 10 list, but it’s a solid film.

Here’s what I liked best from it.

1. Pacing & Pull

At no point does Limitless slow down. From beginning to end, scene pushes into scene and pulls us forward. It’s relentless in the best of ways and any writer that needs to work on not wasting scene time should give it a few watches. As a reader, I love it when a script keeps racing me forward.

Further, it never gives me a sense of skipping out on important details. Some scripts can jump past the important parts in an attempt to race forward, or cobble a bunch of scenes together that have no business following each other in a string. The scenes follow smoothly and interestingly. You want that. I want that. We all want that.

2. Conflict & Escalation

A lot of PASS scripts have Act 2 problems: not enough conflict, not enough excitement, not enough momentum. Limitless never suffers from this problem. Conflicts arise naturally from the plot and keep punching us as soon as we get back from resolving the last conflict – if we’ve even gotten to – and pull us quickly through the second act.

While not the most dramatic of conclusions, we end with our protagonist having to literally slurp blood off of the floor from a dying man, and the writer didn’t have to cheat to get us there. That’s awesome.

This film is a lot more upbeat than the book it was inspired by, but it works really well for me. Given the arc it uses, the protagonist has to have as many victories as he gets to pull it off – but the writers still provided enough conflict to give us suspense, intrigue, and anticipation.

3. Length

Many of the scripts that have come across my screen have suffered from the “too long” problem. It’s something you come to understand as you write more, and can write out as you rewrite and rewrite, but it’s one of those endemic issues for aspiring screenwriters.

Limitless clocks in at 1.75 hours and isn’t too long or too short. This is important. You lose your audience when your story drags, and one of the fastest ways to drag is writing too much for the story. The audio-visual experience of a film – particularly studio films – requires a very specific kind of pacing for the stories it tells. You can’t write a screenplay like a novel. It just won’t work.

Pay attention to how Limitless delivers its story in each 10minute block. If you’re having issues with length, keep doing this until it clicks.

Find lessons from your own viewings. It helps tremendously, and is one of the best, if not THE best, ways to teach yourself good screenwriting.

I’ve been using Summify lately – and it’s awesome for catching up on anything you miss during the day. With how many people I follow (and how many of them post things worth reading), it’s a great tool, since I’m not on Twitter all day long.

You can see some of my top followed on my profile there.

I’m still an assistant at ScreenwritingU, and they’ve been recognized as the top classes in the Industry for the third time – this one being from InkTip.

Having seen how much my own writing has progressed, and how many deals our students have been making over the past few years, I heartily endorse our classes.

Hosting problems kept my site down for awhile, erroneously.

I expected better from you, Namecheap.

Since continually getting great responses to my script consulting, finding more and more jobs on my lap, and getting paid work as a screenwriter, it’s time to raise my rates.

After all, “Time is money, friend.”

But I’m not increasing them too much: from $150 / $170 to $175 / $200 for Notes, and a set $15 for Basic Coverage.

Before I raise my rates, though, I’m going to keep them at their current place until October 9th.

 

Many, many thanks to everyone who’s helped me get here.

I’m now a paid screenwriter.

After you’ve read your fair share of scripts, it’s a great idea to really start analyzing successful scripts. Ones that performed well for audiences (rather than critics).

This can become a rather lengthy process, but it helps you when working on your own scripts in an *immense* way. I can’t recommend it enough.

So — choose an element.

Dialogue.

Characters.

Subtext.

Comedy.

And so on. After you’ve chosen that element, get that script in hand or on screen with a pen (or appropriate editing software – such as iAnnotate), and start going through the script.

Every instance of the element should be noted. For Comedy, it’s every example of humor, Character, every example of character development and expression, Dialogue, all lines of Dialogue, and so on.

Once you’ve gotten every instance noted, you want to examine it in detail.

What did the writer do that made this piece successful?

How did this piece fit the genre perfectly?

How did this piece advance the story and drama/comedy?

How does this piece stand out from weaker writing?

You want to become intimately familiar with every piece and examine them, again and again. Each joke in a finished, polished script contains several decisions and elements that make it so successful. How it ties in with the Character voicing the joke, what words are chosen in the Dialogue, what action accompanies it, how the joke was set up – there are so many things that can go into it, and a great writer sets up wonderful jokes.

This tool can help you get much, much better at your own writing. You can apply it to every component in a screenplay, but I suggest focusing on your weak areas and picking scripts that are very strong in those areas. Not so great with Dialogue? Choose a strong Drama. Bad with Comedy? Dig out that film that gave you awesome belly laughs. Struggling with Characters? Pick that character-driven piece with its unforgettable icons.

I got approached for a serious rewrite job. I’m terribly excited.

It’ll keep me pretty busy for awhile, though, so I’ll try and fit in updates where I can.

There’s a very conscious part of learning, where you read lessons and apply them. It’s very important to do this, especially when you’re an aspiring writer.

That’s not what I’m going to talk about, though.

Much of my understanding about stories and scripts came from absorption. Reading script after script after script, both in submissions and produced movies, gave me some very clear insight into what makes for successful stories. Despite my background in creative writing, an intensive period of this yielded a lot more insight into screenwriting than any of prior experience had.

It comes up pretty often in suggestions for screenwriters – read, read, read. Watch movies. Go over successful scripts. Do what the pros are doing. No, don’t copy their concepts, but take lessons from their structure, their dialogue, their characters. Scrutinize their choices and see why their script was successful and turned into a movie.

Make this a part of your weekly rituals, if not your daily one. The more material you go through, the more your brain will soak up the information and store it for you, even if it’s not an immediate, applicable skill.

Don’t quit the active learning process, though.

Rewriting yourself isn’t an easy process to learn. At all levels of screenwriting, script scan be reduced to rubble with one sentence, and your story may have to begin from ground zero. Or be thrown out entirely. Shredding your babies can be a rough and painful experience. I’ve known some writers to cry when demolishing characters they love… all for the sake of the story.

Sometimes, though, this is a relief.

In the midst of writing and rewriting an idea, you may find yourself going nowhere fast. Even with all of the best tools at your disposal, with knowledge of great techniques, and real experience in rewriting… you might be staring at a wall. Running your face into the wall. Grinding there for awhile.

It’s like writer’s block, and sometimes it just doesn’t let up anytime soon. You spend hours agonizing over a scene and realize it’s gone nowhere. You fiddle with character traits until it’s 3am, and love nothing about what you’ve done. You recite plot twists and reveals like a mantra, but there is no clarity waiting for you. It’s all mud.

You’re stuck in rewrite hell.

It’s an awful place to be. For whatever reason, your creative flow has turned to muck.

 

Well, that’s okay. Just drop it.

 

As a professional (or aspiring) writer, you should already have a stable of ideas and projects just waiting for free time and attention. Rewrite hell is the perfect time to switch gears. You only have so much effort and time to spend each day, and if it’s all getting ground into nothing (and you aren’t on a deadline), just drop it! Spend that creative effort elsewhere. Don’t deadlock yourself.

Really. It’s okay. It’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready to come back to it.

Some people hate this. I respect that. But, personally, I only get so much writing time, and I want to maximize what I’m doing with it. I can wait.

And this is exactly what happened to my ScriptFrenzy script. Even though it’s an idea that’s been kicking around in my head for a couple years now, it just isn’t going anywhere. It’s stuck, and I’m not ready to advance.

So, I’m dropping it. And picking up something else.

Keep moving forward.