For those of you who aren’t familiar with sequencing, it’s a method of structuring a screenplay by breaking it down into manageable chunks called, as you might have guessed, sequences. The number of sequences in a script is somewhat arbitrary, but the most popular number seems to be eight. It really depends on the individual story you’re trying to tell. This isn’t a formula designed as a paint-by-numbers scheme to take all the hard work out of writing. Sorry, but as far as I know that formula is tucked away inside the holy grail.
Professor David Howard, a long-time proponent of sequencing, claims that the method derives from the early days of cinema when film reels were only twelve minute long. Each reel began with a fade-in, ended with a fade-out, and between those transitions there was a beginning, a middle, and an end. Though reels today run a bit longer at twenty minutes and don’t actually contain fade-ins or fade-outs, the principle of beginning-middle-end within a span of twelve or so minutes still remains.
And sequences aren’t only used in feature films either. When I began my own career in television I noticed that the four act structure I was using to write my 60 minute episodes was basically just sequencing -- four 12 minute acts preceded by a short teaser and capped off by a quick tag. But there is a difference. In television, the beginning of a sequence or act is often a continuation of the tension established in the previous sequence or act. This is done to keep the viewer coming back for more once the commercials are played between acts.
Other proponents of sequences may call them by other names. Chris Soth, for instance, has done quite well by calling his variation mini-movies. Whatever the name, the Sequencing Method is a valuable tool every screenwriter should have in his or her toolbox.
So what exactly is it and how does it work?
It’s all about tension. Building it, maintaining it, and finally releasing it. Picture a balloon. It starts off empty, so you breath into it, filling it with air and stretching it almost to the breaking point. Just as you hear the rubber strain and groan; when you don’t think it could take one more molecule of Oxygen and Nitrogen...you release it with a slow and satisfying “WHOOOOSH!” Or better yet -- you “POP” it!
But the tension you breath into the sequence isn’t just meant to be a collision of random events or a cacophonous crescendo of characters in conflict. The tension at the sequence level must be separate from, but ultimately related to the central tension of the story. That is to say, the protagonist’s goal in a given sequence will be smaller than his greater goal, but his success in the greater goal will at the very least appear to be contingent upon his completing or undergoing the lesser goal.
If a shy protagonist’s ultimate goal (the central tension) is to win the heart of a woman who doesn’t know he exists, the tension of one sequence might be this protagonist struggling to become more confident around women in general. He might succeed, or more likely he might fail in spectacular fashion -- “POP!”
Sequences can also be quite useful as guideposts in structuring your screenplay. Though not every sequence ends with a pivotal point in the story, there are a few that do --
Sequence 1, for instance, generally ends with a point you might be familiar with -- the Inciting Incident (also called the Catalyst.)
Sequence 2 frequently peaks at what I call The Decision, but others call The Point of Attack, The First Plot Point, The Act 1 Turn, and The Break into 2.
Sequence 4 smacks into the Midpoint, and Sequence 6 bursts into the Break into 3 (or Act 2 Turn.)
[I know, it’s hodgepodge of nomenclature, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Each term can tell you something different and equally valuable about what it’s describing. The Decision, The Point of Attack, The Break Into 2 -- all give the writer separate facets and purposes for the same point in the story. But I digress.]
There are writers, teachers, and screenwriting gurus out there who actually break down each sequence further and assign specific functions to them. However, I find that these breakdowns are often confusing, misleading, and not applicable to every situation. Novice writers especially might be tempted to try to fit their square pegs into these round holes with potentially stultifying results. For that reason I’m not going to include those breakdowns here, but I’m sure you could find them with a simple google search.
If you’re interested in practicing sequencing I’ve included four Structure Templates. The first is a Blank Sequencing Template that you can use as a road map to guide your writing. The other three are hybrids that I adapted from other popular story templates. The first is the Hero's Journey Sequencing Template, which adapts Christopher Vogler’s mythic structure from The Writer’s Journey, 2nd Edition. The next is the Hero's Character Arc Sequencing Template, which mirrors the hero’s mythic journey, but can be used effectively to build a character arc for just about any type of character. The final template is the Blake Snyder Sequencing Template, which I adapted from Save the Cat.
Have fun with them and remember, Sequencing is only a tool. Study it, practice it, internalize it, and ultimately forget about it.
When the craftsman needs it, the right tool will appear.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
