10 Screenwriting Lessons You Can Learn From Something Wild

1. Utilize Set-Ups & Pay-Offs

I was once relayed a blurb someone had remembered from a film professor years back: "All filmmaking is is setting up, then paying off." When stated so simply, it's not a fact that seems intrinsic to the art-form, but a lot of the best films have tremendous set-ups and pay-offs. Consider, again, the Sollozzo meeting in The Godfather. There's a small moment where Sonny speaks out of turn that operates as a master-stroke of story telling in the way it sets up several pay-offs for the story: The most immediate is the attempted assassination of his father. This small outburst lets Sollozzo know that Sonny was "hot" for his deal, so if he can get The Don out of the way, he might be able to strike up business with the Corleone family. This moment comes from Sonny's character, in which his short-temper is established throughout these early moments of the film. These subtle set-ups of character lead to the ultimate pay-off: His demise. Something Wild is full of little set-ups and pay-offs that not only add breadth to the narrative, but reward multiple viewings in their subtleties, some of them being as simple as a quick shot. One terribly metaphorical shot is a close up of Lulu slipping Charlie's business card into her stocking. Not only does this moment convey the current nature of their relationship, but that business card makes a comeback. There is a similar shot of the "don't blink, you'll miss it!" variety involving a lost wallet. Whether or not you pick up on that moment will dictate how you react to a moment of drama later in the script and whether or not you will get to have an "ah ha!" moment during your second viewing. But the film also operates as a set-up in pay-off in the largest narrative sense. When the studio asked him to change the ending to his script, writer E. Max Frye wasn't sure what to do as he felt the entire story lead to this one defining moment. It pulled in one unavoidable direction. Luckily, when Demme was hired to direct, he agreed with Frye and the two reworked the ending to make it slightly easier to digest, while still keeping the plot-point in tact. Still, what matters most here is character. The reason why the ending to Something Wild is so essential is the way in which we first find Charles Driggs and what the outcome of the film's climax means for him. This set-up and pay-off isn't as obvious as some of the other, more visual ones. It operates on a subtextual level that indicates and explains the transformation our hero has undergone throughout the film. There's one final set-up and pay-off that is established by these other narrative elements: While Charles is nursing a hang-over from his first night with Lulu ("Be a sadist"), a "colorful" side-character and Motel Worker hands him a bottle of Pepto-Bismol and tells him: "It's better to be a live dog than a dead lion." Without giving away the ending, I will say that this line comes up once more in a way that further underscores the transformation that Charles Driggs has undergone. What's all the more interesting is this: It's a set-up and pay-off you won't find in the original script: The actor working as the Motel "Philosopher" improvised the line unbeknownst to Daniels who reacts genuinely. Later, Daniels added the unscripted line to a scene in the film's denouement. Still, this is a story technique that strengthens the themes of the films; it's something that can be utilized to make a script more engaging for a reader. It's a happy accident to learn from. Like this article? Let us know in the comments section below.
Contributor
Contributor

While studying English and Philosophy at Rutgers University, Andrew worked as a constant contributor to the The Rutgers Review. After graduating in 2010, he began working as a free-lance writer and editor, providing his input to numerous areas including reviews for the New York Film Series, The Express-Times, and private script and story consulting. He is currently the Director of Film Studies at The Morris County Arts Workshop in New Jersey and publishes essays on the subject of film and television at his blog, The Zoetrope.