My previous article, “Don’t Summarize!” had one of the strongest reactions of any I’ve done. I got lots of positive comments (thanks!), but also a number of questions and challenges regarding just how much description is too much.
John Conley’s question summed up this concern very well:
“I’ve been told by several working screenwriters not to include any exposition or description – to write just the action, and to keep that at a minimum. I’ve been given the spec script for THE BABYSITTER by Brian Duffield as an example, since it’s an easy read for readers. Walter Hill and David Giler’s screenplay for ALIEN is also mentioned frequently. And just this past Sunday I attended a seminar where a former agent said, ‘If you have description or exposition in your script take it out!’
“So how do I walk the fine line as a writer between having too much description and action, and providing detailed description and action, as you suggest in your article?”
Here’s what you need to understand about all these edicts forbidding description and exposition: the writers who pass them on have heard them from readers and agents and managers and executives who have read a LOT of spec scripts. Most of these scripts are awful, in part because they contain long paragraphs of minutely detailed description, and page after page of expository dialogue.
In a futile attempt to avoid having to read more of this unnecessary verbiage, these executives give advice in absolutes. “Better no description at all,” they think, “than these endless passages I keep encountering.”
I’m guilty of the same approach. When I lecture about principles I consider essential to being a good writer and storyteller, I often use words like always and never and must.
But what we all really mean with these “rules” is simply use good judgment.
In other words, you should limit the amount of description and exposition to the minimum necessary to get us emotionally involved.
Let’s take a look at the two scripts John Conley mentioned as examples of no description and no exposition.
Here’s the opening passage from ALIEN by Walter Hill and David Giler:
Quite a lot of description for a script that supposedly has none, isn’t it?
In this short passage, the writers use eight different adjectives, and repeat one of them. Combined with the carefully chosen objects (instruments, chairs, turbos) and the staccato style, this opening gives us a clear picture of the setting, it establishes a mood, and it’s simple and fun to read.
To make my point, I was going to rewrite these scenes with no description at all. But it’s impossible. This is nothing but description.
The reason ALIEN is cited as a good example is because the description is minimal, specific and vivid. The screenwriters carefully selected exactly the right details to get us emotionally involved.
Now let’s look at THE BABYSITTER, screenplay by Brian Duffield:
IN THE CRAWL SPACE –
AGGGGHHH!
Cole scrunches up his face.
INT. GARAGE – DAY
Cole chews a fruit roll-up as he makes his way through their cluttered garage that dad always promises to clean and never does.
EXT. THE HOME’S CRAWL SPACE – DAY
Cole’s MOM is under the crawl space beneath their house. The small gate unscrewed and put off to the side.
Cole hands her mousetraps, which he hears her setting.
COLE
Do you like it under there?
MOM
(laughs)
No, Cole, I don’t like it under here. It’s pretty much the worst.
Brian Duffield’s screenplay finished high on the Blacklist in 2014, and there’s a lot of Internet discussion about what an outstanding script it is. But I wasn’t familiar with it, so I just found a random passage with little dialogue to see what makes this a no description example.
Not surprisingly, this passage also contains plenty of description. But once again, the description is skillfully and succinctly written. The empty house, the stairs, the cluttered garage, the small, unscrewed gate, the sound of the mousetraps being set – these all contribute to a vivid, involving setting.
And one more thing I’d like to point out. This scene also contains a good deal of exposition, though it doesn’t seem like it, because the information is neither summarized nor “announced” in the dialogue.
Reading just this short paragraph we learn that Cole lives in a basic, middle-class house with both his parents, he feels comfortable there (the fruit rollup), and he has a good relationship with his mother (her thoughtful note, helping her with the traps, her lovingly sarcastic remark about not liking being in the crawlspace).
The lesson is this: use description and exposition in your writing, but do it thoughtfully, carefully, subtly and succinctly.
I’m inclined to think that the examples above at least partially highlight the reasons for “no more description” while supporting good description at the same time. The example from Alien is excellent (as was that from The Martian). However, in regard to The Babysitter, couldn’t we make this even more concise without taking away from the description? Consider this: “Cole walks through the living room, passing the stairs that lead to the second floor.” Is it important that the stairs lead to the second floor? Maybe, maybe not. If so, should we use something like “passing the ascending stairs…”? But the one that really grabbed my attention was this: “Cole’s MOM is under the crawl space beneath their house.” If the crawl space wasn’t under the house, it’d be an attic, so is “beneath their house” really necessary? I’m probably just splitting hairs, but that’s varied opinions can do to us. After considering feedback from screenplay contests, I’ve done my share of eliminating little things such as this and I’m just curious: is it overkill? Thanks for the great articles!
Michael – Thanks for your comment. In answer to your questions regarding THE BABYSITTER, here’s the test: when you read it FOR THE FIRST TIME, did the passage create vivid images of the setting, characters and action? Did it flow easily, or did the word choice slow you down, confuse you or dissipate your emotional involvement because you were noticing the language rather than engrossed in the movie inside your head. Most of all, DID IT MAKE YOU WANT TO KEEP READING? Of course, you can’t apply this test to your own writing, but the more you see these qualities in other screenplays or novels, the better you will be at emulating them.
– Michael
Wow! Great article Michael. You cleared up tons of confusion I have had on the subject.
Now I can write with complete confidence in knowing that I’m doing it right.
– John Conley
I have a question about this part: Cole chews a fruit roll-up as he makes his way through their cluttered garage that dad always promises to clean and never does.
Isn’t the part that starts at “dad” exposition. I was told show not tell. So isn’t that part of the sentence telling. The audience can’t see that part of the screen. They can only see him chewing on something.
Thanks.
Harry – You’re right, that is exposition of a sort. Brian Duffield is “cheating” here – telling the reader something the audience won’t know by watching the screen. But he does it quickly, judiciously and infrequently, and in this case it give more of a sense of Cole’s very ordinary home life. And it’s fun – EVERY Dad says he’s going to clean the garage and never does. As I say in the article, it’s OK, and sometimes wise, to go against the rules of writing, provided you don’t make a habit of it, and you’re certain that it will increase – and not dissipate – readers’ emotional involvement in your story.
– Michael
Like some wise person said…
“Learn the rules. Because if you know the rules you know when you break them. And when you do break the rules. You better have a good reason”
thanx michael, for this great article it was helping thing to me
Michael, Clarity you are, on point…. And market wise…. We all owe you – Leon D.
Michael, I so enjoy your insight and style! You offer a masterclass in story every time you share your thinking.
One perspective I remember when I first read about screen writing was to write only what the camera “sees.” Another way of saying this is to describe a setting as if you were talking to a sight impaired person.
Much thanks.
Howard