Here on Scriptophobic, we believe that studying screenplays and discussing the writing process are of vital importance to a Scream Writer’s growth. That’s why we here at Scriptophobic are proud to bring you a new column, Scream Writing Questions, which asks screenwriters about their influences, advice, and processes.
Kicking off the column this week is Andy Mitton. Andy Mitton is the writer director behind YellowBrickRoad (2010), the terrifying 2016 Shudder exclusive We Go On (which if you haven’t seen it, stop reading and go watch it!) and the upcoming The Witch in the Window which premiers at Fantasia Film Festival on July 23rd!
What first got you interested in screenwriting?
My love of movies, which is as old as I remember, and my love of creative writing, equally old, eventually collided. From about four, I wanted to write books, and then in high school I got into theater and thought maybe I’d write plays. But movies were always the long-term goal. I wanted a job that made me feel day-to-day like I felt when I was twelve and up all night watching a horror movie marathon. But more than anything I just wanted to tell stories, and my way in was through theater, and through some fantastic teachers. And even though I went to a liberal arts college and not a film school – Middlebury College in Vermont – it was there I really got to break things down, to read the screenplay of a film before watching it, to discuss it with other hungry minds. That’s the experience that sealed the deal. And though I also direct and edit and sometimes compose, writing is my first love. For me, it’s the most important stage, and the most difficult to get right.
Do you have an example of a lesson you learned from reading a script (rather than watching the movie made from it)?
David O. Russell’s screenplay for Flirting With Disaster (1996) comes to mind. I read the script before I saw it, and I’ve still never laughed harder while reading anything, it just ended me, it was brilliant. And don’t get me wrong, I love the movie he ultimately made, too – but the first time I saw it, the finished film fell flat. Because the movie that had played out in my mind had come with different rhythms, without familiar faces and mannerisms of actors I already knew. The movie that had played in my head was a masterpiece, and the movie I ultimately saw was just really really good. And so the lesson there isn’t so much a universal one, but a personal one. It’s how you learn what your own taste really is, and your own style – by having one experience with a screenplay, another with the finished film, and then really looking at the space between those experiences, and the choices you would have made differently.
I’ll cheat and name a second example: Being John Malkovich (1999). I’m sure it’s available online somewhere, but it’s worth reading Charlie Kaufman’s first draft of that movie, and how wildly different it became through revision – the Devil is this whole big character and the puppet stuff is way more intense and messed up, and I don’t know that it works but it’s a brilliantly colorful and original hunk of writing to whittle down into something that felt cohesive. I guess the lesson there is Edit Til’ It’s Excellent (but don’t edit the heart out either). As a younger writer, I was always hesitate to renovate too deeply into an early draft I was fond of. Now, I’m always ready with the jackhammer.
What’s the strongest piece of advice you have for aspiring screenwriters?
Story first.
Which sounds simple enough, but it’s so often sliding down priority lists beneath style and form and stars and scope. One thing I’m proud of about my horror scripts so far is that they trust the story to suck the viewer in rather than trying to appease shorter attention spans by spilling blood in the first few minutes. If it’s the story that gets us in, the hook, the hero, the thing we relate to, then we’re holding tension. We haven’t let the air out one bit, and we haven’t shown our hand. And once an audience is in that place, you can play, and tease, and surprise. The long game’s much more rewarding, and tends to wield a bigger impact.
With young writers especially – and I was a criminal case myself – it’s message that’s often put before story. Before we have a story to tell, we something have “something to say” and that can be tricky. You don’t want every plot point to seem bent to illustrate your point, rather than shaped to illuminate the journey of the character. The result can seem insincere, or preachy. Even a movie like Get Out (2017), the brilliance of that script is that although it’s a movie with a message that’s loud and clear, the story is no less brilliant, because it is story that’s driving the message and so that message can land without feeling pretentious or forced.
What is your relationship with genre film (love, hate, indifference)? What led to that?
I love love love genre film, and they comprise at least half of my all-time favorites. I’d be very happy making genre movies always. I think it’s because I like the collision of art and entertainment. It feels like the way to get the smartest content to the most people and do the most you can with your storytelling, so I don’t hold it on a lower rung. The Exorcist (1973) is a genre movie, but it stands against any other film in terms of artfulness and insight. Same for Jaws (1975) [a favorite of both Kelly and Paul]. Hell, Arrival (2016) got a crash course in quantum physics into a mainstream genre movie – at the end of the day, that might be harder to do than making The Godfather (1972)! I still love arthouse movies, Big Serious Oscar movies, all of it. But on a rainy weekend afternoon, I’m the first to admit I’m more likely to watch Alien (1979) [Another Paul favorite!]. I’m not a Star Wars (1977–) or superhero or Hobbit-y sort of person – that’s just me – but obviously all of that lives in both worlds, too. As for some of the endless action franchises pushing old tropes forward and all that – I’m less into that side of genre film, but that’s just money messing things up, same as is happening everywhere else. One easy way to get around that I’ve found is something I specialize in – not having any money. Then it gets interesting.
What was something that surprised you in the process of writing your own screenplay?
The freedom of form, maybe. And it might be because I started as a playwright, where the form is more rigid in how it’s presented on the page. And when you first learn screenwriting, it’s pretty rigid, too. Or it was for me. There was The Screenwriter’s Bible and all the formatting to get right. But then you start actually reading screenplays and you realize the rules are bendy as hell. Some are sprawling, some are tight, in fragments. Some try and make music of their descriptions, some draw out all the details, some make it sensory and external, some make it character-driven and internal. And then you learn it’s not so much about finding your style as a screenwriter but about finding the style of writing that suits the story. Because the experience of the reader is everything, it has to be engrossing to read. And unless it’s a weepy drama (maybe don’t start one, either?) it should probably also be fun to read.
What’s your favorite thing about screenwriting that doesn’t apply to other kinds of writing?
I love the idea that it’s a blueprint to be filled in by collaboration, more artists, more visions. That’s also true of plays, but with screenplays there’s even more room, and you purposefully build in that room, the unknown spaces. You’re not spending time with prose on how the set will smell and what the texture of the wall will be, and the feeling it will give you when it’s lit – you’re just laying out the framework with straight lines and hopefully some good, strong, passionate nails.
What are some of the films and stories that inspired you?
Anything Coen Brothers but my favorites are Raising Arizona (1987), Fargo (1996), No Country for Old Men (2007) [Kelly took a wonderful look at how No Country reasons with the unreasonable] , and Burn After Reading (2008). Like many kids who grew up in the 80s I love Spielberg, especially Jaws and Close Encounters with the Third Kind (1977). Other all-time favorites are Network (1976), Big Night (1996), The Exorcist, After Hours (1985), Boogie Nights (1997), The Shining (1980) [Check out what Rachel wrote on The Shining]. I could go on and on. Books, there are too many, but the things I still lean on, among others, are Mark Danielewski’s House of Leaves, and Stephen King galore but especially The Long Walk and Wizard and Glass.
If you could adapt any story in any medium into a screenplay, what is your dream project?
I’d like to do a version of Stephen King’s The Running Man that is honorable to the book. The ending would have to change – and anyone who knows the book knows why – but it’s doable, and the real story (which is wildly different from the 80s film adaptation) is incredible, and unfortunately timely.
Where can people find you online and support your work (present or upcoming)?
My newest film THE WITCH IN THE WINDOW hits the festival circuit with a Fantasia premiere on July 23rd, and we’ll play festivals all over before our release as a Shudder Exclusive in the fall. And strange as this seems, I also have a children’s musical going on a US tour next year called “Me…Jane” which follows renowned primatologist Jane Goodall as a young girl finding her calling. I wrote the music and lyrics for the show, which premiered at the Kennedy Center last year. Usually, I’m either trying to keep my musical theater work a secret from horror fans or I’m trying to keep my horror movies a secret from my musical theater colleagues, but in this case I’ll admit to being the same confused human being doing both things.
You can also find me at andymitton.com for news and updates.
