One of the hallmarks of a good script is great dialogue. While it’s true that you have to have an ear for it, it’s also true that it is a skill like any other. So, even if you’re no Preston Sturges and regardless of your innate ability, you can exercise that muscle and improve.
A good place to start is to analyze what makes bad dialogue. We all know it when we hear it, but identifying why it doesn’t work is a great place to start.
Bad dialogue is:
- Obvious and therefore fake. You know those kinds of movies in which everyone wears their hearts on their sleeves? The hero has no problem going on and on about how he feels about the heroine; the villain goes into excruciating detail about how he’s going to harm our hero. We humans hardly ever say what we really mean. Like anything that’s frustrating in real life, lack of clarity, subtext, and beating around the bush makes for excellent scenes because, simply put, the audience doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. However, try: If you’re having trouble with a scene, start out by giving each character lines that say exactly what they want and feel. Don’t worry, you’re going to edit these lines. This step will help you clarify what the scene is about for each character, where the conflict lies and what the subtext is.
- Long (and stilted). Yes, I know that in real life some people are chatterboxes and longwinded. And I know that you slaved over each word and just adore reading it over and over. However, even five sentences of dialogue on the page can sound like a filibuster, never mind onscreen! Tip: Arrange a casual cold reading with a friend. Yes, this can be an excruciating exercise so steel yourself and find a couple of pals you really trust. Take note of any lines of dialogue over which they stumble. If it’s a mouthful, it makes you cringe, or you find your audience tuning out, that’s an excellent indication that you need to rewrite the line.
- Everyone sounds the same. Even in the democratic United States the way someone speaks reveals a lot about the person. There are some words that, while common, we usually hear from a certain group, class or gender. Think about such simple phrases as “young lady,” “a little sweater,” or “bitchen.” Sometimes a certain word or phrase can serve as a character’s trademark. In The Apartment, Billy Wilder and I.A.L. Diamond gave C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) the habit of using “wise” as a suffix throughout. This added charm while also denoting the character’s awkwardness, particularly around his love interest. It also set up the memorable line: “That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise, that is.” Hint: Think about what a character’s word choice reveals about him, and then make sure that this trait is reflected in his actions as well. Also, does the character’s speech change according to the people around him? This doesn’t always reflect hypocrisy; it is entirely normal for us to adjust the way we talk to the context and the circumstances.
Now that you’ve identified what isn’t working in the scene, let’s get to work improving it:
- Add subtext. Start with those lines that state outright what each character wants and thinks. Now, most of the time the higher the stakes, the less likely we are to just come out and say what we mean. So, let’s strip down those lines of dialogue. Have your character dance around what he wants. Replace the obvious requests with hints. For example, instead of having your hero ask outright if his love interest wants to go out with him Saturday night, have him fish for clues about whether or not she’s busy. Cut off the sentences. Have them trail off. Allow his body language to telegraph what he’s really thinking, even if it contradicts what his words are saying. Do this for each character.
- Be ruthless. William Faulkner famously said, “In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” This doesn’t just apply to dialogue, by the way, but it is often the case that the more smitten we are by our work, the more belabored and the less authentic it is. And in order for it to be good, dialogue must be authentic to the character, even if the character is lying. Simplicity leads to elegant writing.
- Play around with syntax. Shortening a sentence doesn’t always mean erasing a line outright. A simple example is changing “Are you going to go?” to “You going?”. The second version is perfectly acceptable in the context of a conversation. Some abbreviated dialogue is regional, however, so be careful. (“Cuppa” for a “cup of” is a Britishism that would sound jarring coming out the mouth of an American character.)
- Include interruptions, non-sequiturs, and non-answers. In real conversations, people talk over each other. They interrupt. They misunderstand. Oftentimes, they don’t even answer each other outright. The way people react — or fail to react — to others adds additional subtext to a scene.
- Listen (and write) with musicality. One of the reasons that film noir narrators sound hardboiled is that they speak in short, direct sentences. A series of brief sentences can sound choppy to the ear. This is not always a bad thing. Say that your character has just run a few miles; it’s only natural that she will express herself tersely while she tries to catch her breath. Same if she’s angry, or upset, or merely disinterested. On the other hand, people in certain environments speak with different rhythms: there’s a languid quality to Southern speech; a rhythmic patter to urban American talk, and so forth. Train yourself to hear the music with which people speak and not just the words. Then see if you can duplicate that tempo, even if it’s with nonsense words. Yeah, I know it sounds silly, but I got the idea from a Fresh Air interview with Michael Feinstein who worked as Ira Gershwin’s cataloguer:
For the song “I Got Rhythm,” … he wrote a dummy lyric — a set of words that wouldn’t be used for the final version of the text, but would give the author a sense of how words will feel with a particular tune.
I hope these techniques help you create better dialogue and, by extension, livelier characters.