Screenwriting starts here. 

There’s a script quality that experienced readers recognize almost immediately as ‘professional’. It doesn't require a sale, a produced credit, or a known name on the title page. It’s felt in the first twenty pages, and sometimes the first five; a sense that the writer knows what they’re doing. The script is under control and there’s intention behind every choice. Readers, managers, and development executives respond to it instinctively. They keep turning pages.

The opposite is also true. Certain screenwriters announce their unprofessional status just as quickly. Not because the idea is bad or the writer lacks talent, but because the craft signals are missing from their scripts. If the concept is strong enough, industry professionals are still likely to keep reading, but obviously the more professional the writing, the more successful your script will be.

What separates these two experiences is a set of specific craft habits that are learnable and entirely within your grasp. Even if you’re a beginner, if your writing exhibits these habits and signals, your script will “feel professional.” 

A Clear Concept That Moves in One Direction

The first signal a reader picks up is whether or not the script has a clear concept driving it. Not a vague premise or an interesting world, but a focused, forward-moving idea that tells the reader exactly what kind of story they’re in.

As I discussed in my article on high-concept writing, the most sellable scripts can be pitched in a single sentence. That clarity isn’t just a marketing requirement; it’s a structural one. When your concept is sharp, your story’s engine is propulsive. Everything in your script feels urgent and alive. When your concept is vague or diffuses, your story drifts, scenes exist without purpose, and the reader starts losing confidence in the writer’s judgment.

Before drafting your next script, test the concept yourself. Can you describe what happens to your protagonist in one sentence? Does that sentence generate immediate dramatic stakes? If it takes a paragraph to explain your plot, your concept isn’t locked yet, and the script won’t feel locked either.

Focus Characters Who Command the Page

Unprofessional scripts often suffer from too many characters introduced too quickly, with no clear signal about whose story this is. A reader encountering four or five characters in the first ten pages, all given roughly equal weight, begins to disengage. They don’t know who to invest in. Without that emotional anchor, the story has no center.

Professional scripts establish focus characters immediately, and their introduction isn’t just functional: it’s purposeful. The reader knows from the way a character enters and the way the scene is constructed around them, that this is someone who matters. Knowing your focus characters and giving them a dynamic introduction does more structural work than any amount of backstory or exposition. It tells the reader, “This is your guide through the story.”

Once your focus characters are established, they need to hold the page, especially your protagonist or point-of-view character. Track them throughout your script and ask yourself if there are any significant stretches in which they disappear. If a supporting character is accumulating more scenes or more dialogue, that’s a structural problem. The script will lose focus. The emotional through line will go cold. And most industry professionals will clock this. They’ll wonder, ‘Whose story is this?’

Your protagonist’s internal world should be cresting to the surface in every scene. What do they want? How does this scene bring them closer or push them further away from it? These questions aren’t optional. They’re your engine.

Structure That Escalates

Most readers have an instinctive feel for momentum. A well-structured script generates it automatically because the story is always escalating, increasing the pressure, and making the characters face consequences. A beginner screenwriter will oftentimes confuse busyness for momentum: things happen, scenes occur, characters talk, but it’s all redundant. Stakes aren’t being steadily raised. The reader never feels the walls closing in on the characters.

In addition to helping you pace your story, three-act structure gives you a framework that can help you with escalation. Act I establishes your protagonist and their goals. Act II forces the protagonist into progressively worse positions until they’ve reached their lowest point. Act III demands they find a way out. When these structural movements are functioning, the reader feels them even without thinking in terms of “acts.” The script has momentum because the protagonist’s situation is always in motion.

The most common breaking point is the second act. This is because many screenwriters view it as a bridge rather than the heart of the story. Every scene in the second act should be pushing the protagonist and other major characters to an inevitable confrontation and by the halfway point, there should be no turning back. 

This isn’t accomplished solely by creating obstacles for your protagonist, but by also tracking their emotional state in every scene. If your protagonist isn’t constantly going through change, if every incident or encounter doesn’t further define their conflict, the second act loses momentum. The reader starts skimming. That’s when readers start passing on your script.

Every scene should function as either a step forward or a step back. Not in a mechanical way, but in a way the reader feels. A scene that neither advances nor complicates the protagonist’s situation is a scene that doesn’t belong.

Internal and External Conflict Running Parallel

One of the clearest distinctions between a beginner and professional screenwriter is how they handle conflict. Beginners often write one or the other: character-driven scripts loaded with internal conflict but little external momentum, or high-concept scripts full of external obstacles with no emotional undercurrent.

The professional instinct is to use both simultaneously: internal and external conflict. The boxing matches in the Rocky and Creed films wouldn’t mean anything without the inner conflicts driving them. Rocky doesn’t go the distance simply to win. He goes the distance to prove he isn’t just another bum from the neighborhood. Likewise, Adonis Creed is also proving his worth via fighting: he wants to prove he wasn’t “a mistake,” but truly his father’s son. External conflict gives a story its shape. Internal conflict gives it its soul.

Your protagonist should be fighting on two fronts at all times. What is the external obstacle they’re navigating scene to scene? And beneath that, what is the deeper existential obstacle, the thing they need to resolve or accept about themselves before the story is finished? 

When these two spheres are working together, the reader feels both the tension of the situation and an investment in the character living it. That combination is what makes a script resonate. 

It’s also what makes it feel professional.

Action Lines That Direct Without Directing

The visual presentation of your script carries far more weight than you might imagine, and most readers register it within the first few pages. Dense blocks of prose, over-written description, camera directions and an over abundance of transitions: these things signal that the writer is a beginner and hasn’t read any contemporary screenplays.

Clean action lines are the product of craft and discipline. Describe what the reader needs to see and nothing more. Not a novelist’s detail, not a director’s camera plan. The job of the action line is to put an image in the reader’s head as efficiently and vividly as possible. I refer to this as “directing without directing.” 

Rather than writing that the camera focuses on something, have your protagonist focus on it. Rather than having a character simply enter a room, have them burst into it. The right verb will suggest the visual. The energy is in the word choice, not the technical instruction. This keeps the script moving and keeps the reader in the scene rather than thinking about how it will be shot.

Spacing matters too. Industry professionals prefer “a lot of white on the page” (i.e. no big blocks of text). If your script follows suit, it signals a writer with this knowledge who’s reader-aware. Each line of action should function as a single shot. When the action is spaced properly, the reader’s eye moves faster, the pacing becomes cinematic, and the script reads the way a produced film feels.

Good Spelling and Grammar, and Proper Formatting

A script with frequent spelling and grammatical mistakes, or inconsistent and poor formatting, signals unprofessionalism. The fact that it’s so easy to check spelling and grammar these days makes a writer look particularly careless if their script hasn’t been proofread or copyedited. 

More than just a blueprint for a movie, an unproduced screenplay is a sales tool. It’s a document designed to convince busy professionals that your idea is worth their time and resources. Errors pull a reader out of the story; each one creates a small but real friction, and friction accumulates. By page forty, a script loaded with errors is exhausting to read, regardless of how good the concept might be.

Screenwriting software like Final Draft handles formatting automatically. It also has a Format Assistant, which will check for any errors or inconsistencies. 

Final Draft also includes spelling and grammar tools: use them, but don’t rely on them exclusively. Proofread your script before any submission. This is the most basic standard of professional presentation, and the easiest one to meet.

The Writer Behind the Page

What readers, managers, development execs, and producers respond to in a professional-feeling script is evidence of a writer in command of their craft. The concept is clear. The characters are focused and purposeful. The structure escalates with intention. The conflict operates on multiple levels. The action lines direct without directing. The presentation is clean and consistent.

None of these qualities require selling your script or industry experience to develop. They simply require awareness, practice, and the willingness to apply them before your script goes out. A screenplay that feels professional earns a reader’s trust early and holds it all the way to the end. That trust is the foundation of every career, every connection, every relationship, and every deal that follows.

Write with enough control that the reader never has to wonder if you know what you’re doing.

And make them certain of it from page one.

Dialogue, Action, and Exposition are the key elements to any screenplay. Cinematic storytelling lives in the interplay between what characters say, what they do, and what the audience learns along the way as the story and plot unfold.

When you’re first starting out as a screenwriter, it’s natural to lean towards one of those elements early on. Some writers naturally gravitate towards writing snappy and stylistic dialogue, usually to showcase a unique voice.

Others think visually, prioritizing the action the characters perform as far as what they do, where they go, how they go there, and their non-verbal physical and emotional reactions to conflict they face.

And the most common overreliance is exposition, where screenwriters find themselves leaning too heavily on verbal explanation of the plot, inner feelings of the characters, and information dumps.

The screenplays that engage readers and audiences the most are those that have an excellent balance between these three essential script elements. But that balance isn’t about hitting a perfect ratio. Some types of stories may rely more heavily on dialogue over action. It’s really about understanding the purpose and strengths of each element, and how you can create a more dynamic cinematic experience in your screenplays.

With that in mind, let’s break down dialogue, action, and exposition so you can find the best ways to balance all three of them throughout your scripts, making for better script reads, and better odds of your scripts standing out. 

Dialogue

Dialogue is the most notable screenplay element because it offers us the voice of the characters, and gives the screenplay the easiest chance to convey information essential to the plot (exposition).

If you look at a film like Project Hail Mary, you’ll see how important a role dialogue plays between Grace and Rocky as they establish communication and learn how to interact. Their relationship builds because of their eventual open communications, revealing impactful emotions like fear, curiosity, humor, and trust.

Dialogue works best when it’s rooted in character discovery and conflict, as opposed to being used to tell the story, which is a common mistake for beginners - using the dialogue to lay out the plot, the discoveries, the twists, the turns, etc. Dialogue can be used for those story elements, but you need to balance dialogue with accompanying action and exposition.

'Project Hail Mary'

Action 

When we’re talking about action, we’re not solely referencing car chases, fight scenes, and explosions. Action is the true language of movies, prevalent long before sound technology gave us audible dialogue the audience could hear. Action is everything the audience sees:

Physical behavior in the form of actions and reactions to conflict and character interactions. Movement throughout and between locations. Emotions in the form of happiness, joy, sadness, fear, rage, and any other emotions that can be conveyed without dialogue.  

If you look at a film like Sinners, when the conflict comes at the characters in the form of sadistic and terrifying vampires, as well as local racist townies, much of the tension comes from how they react to those conflicts in the moment, often without accompanying dialogue at first. Action is what drives urgency. Some of the most compelling cinematic storytelling is when there is no time for characters to talk or discuss their options and decisions. They must act.

When a character sees or learns something, what do they do?

Do they go into a rage and flip a table? Do they begin to laugh out of madness or the humoristic presence of irony in the situation? Do they fall to their knees and cry? Do they showcase no fear or emotion, and act swiftly, showcasing their focus and experience in similar situations?

All of these types of action show us so much about the character without the need for any accompanying dialogue - or at least little to none.

Action allows the audience to interpret emotion without being told what to feel. 

'Sinners'

Exposition

The basic definition of exposition in screenwriting is the delivery of information. Delivering:

Plot points Character background Inner thoughts Or any other form of information regarding characters and story

It’s perhaps the most intimidating element of screenwriting for beginners because it’s labeled as a problem child most scripts have while also being an essential element as well.

Script readers and audience members need context. They need to understand the world, the stakes, and the rules - and those elements need to be communicated through dialogue and action.

One Battle After Another has a huge narrative scale to its world, full of backstory, past wrongs, troubled relationships, and lingering conflicts. The exposition needs to be there.

The challenge isn’t avoiding exposition. It’s about integrating it in a way that feels active rather than instructional. Active exposition feels like part of the narrative, as opposed to instructional exposition becoming a stopping point where things are explained. 

When Dialogue, Action, and Exposition Aren’t Balanced 

It’s fairly simple. An overreliance on dialogue can make a scene feel static and lifeless. Sure, we’ve had plenty of great “talking heads” movies with characters sitting, talking, and explaining (My Dinner with Andre, Before Sunrise, The Man From Earth, etc.). However, most readers and audiences need or want more than that. Those types of screenplays are generally written and directed by auteurs or indie filmmaking groups (My Dinner with Andre was written by its two onscreen stars) who make their films and put them through the indie market. If you’re looking to sell a script, you need more balance to create something a production company, studio, network, or streamer would be drawn to - something that is more cinematic and readily entertaining for the masses.

That said, too much action can feel empty. Movement without meaning and deeper stakes can fall flat. There have been some amazing films with little-to-no dialogue, or, at the very least, effective ones with long stretches of scenes and sequences without much (The Revenant, Wall-E, All Is Lost, The Road, etc.). But overreliance on action spectacle tends to eventually wear thin for most readers and audiences.

Lastly, heavy exposition scenes stop most story momentum. Information dumps through dialogue - or even visuals - can halt any forward momentum and pacing you have going.

As you can hopefully see, when you don’t have balance between dialogue, action, and exposition, your script can suffer. But when you do have balance between the three, you’re offering a cinematic read that feels like a perfectly balanced movie playing in the mind’s eye of the reader as they read your script.

How to Balance Dialogue, Action, and Exposition

You can first start with asking three questions while reviewing scenes you’ve written:

If the dialogue were cut down to its essential core (one sentence or fragment instead of three or more), would the scene still make sense visually? If the action was minimized, would the dialogue still feel purposeful and engaging? If you cut down on the exposition, would the reader or audience still understand what matters in the story?

Reviewing your pages with these questions in mind will help you begin to understand where balance between dialogue, action, and exposition is present, where it is lacking, and where it is most needed for potential rewrites.

Rewriting As You Go and Balancing As You Rewrite

Before we get into the dynamics of how to balance each of these elements, it’s helpful to understand when you can be doing this in your writing process.

When you’re a professional screenwriter writing under tight deadlines, you can showcase your writing savvy the most by being able to not only write fast, but write amazingly well as you do.

Rewriting as you go can be an excellent way to learn how to master that art. Let’s say you start a script and write ten pages during your first writing session. When you return for your next writing session, the first thing you do is read those first ten pages from beginning to end. As you do this, you rewrite and tweak those pages as you read. Then you write another ten pages (or however many you can). When you return for your next writing session, you read all of the pages you’ve written in prior sessions and rewrite and tweak them as you do.

This helps you to be able to stay on the same page with yourself every single writing session. You’ll be able to see the momentum (or lack thereof) of the story, plot, and character arcs. You’ll be able to ask those above three questions with each scene you’ve written.

If you’re already to the first or second draft of the script, then you can just go back and read the most current draft and rewrite the pages as needed with balance of dialogue, action, and exposition in mind. 

Balancing the Dialogue 

Less is more. That’s the most simple guideline. Every single line of dialogue should be essential, necessary, and purposeful when it comes to moving the story and plot forward.

Beyond paring dialogue lines down, it’s helpful when you understand that dialogue shines most when it’s driven by conflict and stakes. When two or more characters want opposing things, the dialogue is immediately charged with an electric jolt that creates more conflict and stakes. Without tension and conflict in a scene, the dialogue can feel like expositional dumps or filler, which halts any story momentum.

The best and most effective dialogue happens when characters aren’t just talking and relaying information - it’s when they’re trying to get something, avoid something, protect something, or survive something.

If your dialogue can accomplish that a majority of the time in each scene, it can be properly and masterfully balanced with accompanying action, especially when you’re also applying the “less is more” mantra. 

Balancing the Action

A common mistake in screenplays is the use of dialogue to explain what could more easily be shown through action.

Having a character say, “He’s got a gun!” is less effective cinematically than having scene description describe the action of a character revealing that they have a gun.

A character saying, “I’m nervous,” is less effective cinematically than showing that nervousness through physical behavior.

Hesitation Pacing Avoiding eye contact Shaking  

A character telling us how angry they are is less effective cinematically than them flipping a table, screaming in a rage, clenching their fists, or storming out of the room and slamming the door behind them, all without a single word said.

Here’s where balance between dialogue and action really starts to present itself - when action starts carrying emotional and narrative weight, making the dialogue more sharp and concise because it doesn’t have to do all of the heavy lifting on that front. 

Balancing the Exposition

A tell-tale sign of bad exposition is when you have to stop the story so someone can explain what’s happened, what needs to happen, and especially what is happening. Everything needs to flow.

But exposition really isn’t the problem in most of those cases. It’s the delivery of the exposition that causes problems.

If we go back to One Battle After Another, which has immense need for exposition due to the unseen history between so many of the characters, you’ll see how the Oscar-winning script balances that exposition with the dialogue and action by communicating exposition through disagreements, mission briefings that go wrong (when Bob doesn’t remember the necessary password), or skewed and differing perspectives of the past where characters challenge each other’s stances and beliefs.

The information is delivered to the audience, but through tension, conflict, and story progression.

You can also let exposition emerge through discovery. Instead of telling the reader or audience how something works, let the characters figure it out in real time within the scene. When the characters are discovering the information within a scene, it doesn’t feel like forced exposition. It feels natural. The audience is learning something new at the same time the characters are, which also leads to the feel of the story being a shared experience between the characters and the audience. 

Some Final Balance Tricks of the Trade

Once you learn and begin to understand the dynamics of balancing dialogue, action, and exposition, you can start to experiment with some tricks of the trade that will help you balance the three effectively, without losing the impact of each.

Intercut dialogue and action scenes to break up any dense dialogue moments. Keep your characters moving through a location or between locations as they talk. Inject discovery dialogue during moments of tension, conflict, and high stakes. 

Lastly, make sure each scene has a rhythm of dialogue, action, and exposition. A scene may start with an action beat, but leads to a dialogue beat that builds more tension and conflict. Within that dialogue beat, you can slip in a line of exposition that raises the stakes even higher, acting as a discovery for one or more of the characters within the scene. 

Trust the Script Reader and Audience

Most dialogue and expositional overwriting can be caused by writers that aren’t trusting the audience. If you can learn to trust the audience to connect most of the dots, you won’t have to worry about using too much dialogue and injecting too much exposition into the dialogue.

Script readers and audiences are skilled at picking up story and character context. You don’t need to overexplain. Trust that the person reading your script or watching your produced movie have themselves read or watched hundreds upon hundreds of scripts or movies. If you give them a little trust, you’ll naturally sway away from overloading your dialogue, exposition, and action to the point where the script is unbalanced.

Don’t be afraid to showcase some great dialogue in an action-heavy script. Don’t shy away from some visual (action, movement, and silence) storytelling in your more dramatic scripts. Don’t think the audience won’t pick up on what’s in the subtext, between the lines, and within the expositional discovery you provide in your dialogue.  

Trust the reader and audience. And if you balance your dialogue, action, and exposition well, they’ll trust in your script and your cinematic story enough to stick with it. 

While it might seem easier to write a screenplay when the story and characters have already been established, it can be quite a challenge. An adapted screenplay is a script based on previously existing material, such as a novel or play. While many of the pieces are in place, it’s the screenwriter’s job to reshape it so that it works within the constraints of a movie. Going from novel to script often involves condensing lengthy plots, enhancing the visual aspects of storytelling, restructuring events and even removing or consolidating characters.

Here are 7 of the best adapted screenplays that screenwriters can learn from.

1. Jurassic Park (1993)

Novel Written by Michael Crichton, Screenplay by David Koepp

A box office smash followed by six sequels and counting wasn’t much of a thought when author Michael Crichton was writing his 17th novel, Jurassic Park. But with Steven Spielberg behind it, the book-turned-movie became a worldwide box office phenomenon.

At 460+ pages, Jurassic Park (the book), which is filled with scientific concepts, chaos theory and way more scenes that would fit into a conventional 2-hour film, had to be written to meet the visual needs of the story. What screenwriter David Koepp had to do was find the characters, moments and themes that he could take from the novel, and write them into a screenplay. 

Jurassic Park did an amazing job at taking pages and pages of exposition and turning it into a line or two in the movie, such as Hammond’s lawyer saying investors need to know this park will work, whereas in the novel Hammond speaks in front of a room of investors asking for money. It also took complex science and explained it to the layperson as if they were on a theme park ride - Dino DNA!

2. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)

Novel Written by Harper Lee, Screenplay by Horton Foote

Most people read To Kill a Mockingbird in high school and it’s quite a badge of honor that this film has been the only adaptation of the novel. The book was an instant success and has sold 30 million copies over the last 66 years.

The idea of turning the hit novel, which tackles themes of racial injustice, class, courage, and the loss of innocence, into a movie was too much for Lee, so she recommended Foote. He accepted but wanted Lee to know something important about his adaptation: “You know, there’s going to come a time when this has got to belong to me and I’ve got to take this over,” Foote recalled telling Lee in a Virginia Quarterly Review interview.

“I didn’t use it merely as a ‘departure’ and write something entirely new, but I did write many scenes for the film that don’t exist in the novel,” Foote said. “The whole time sequence had to be redone because the novel is sprawling in the sense that it goes over many years and we wanted to find a unity of time.”

To Kill a Mockingbird has stood the cinematic test of time because Foote knew which themes to preserve and crafted a screenplay that resonated with audiences.

Javier Bardem in 'No Country for Old Men'

3. No Country for Old Men (2007)

Novel by Cormac McCarthy, Screenplay by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen

Okay, when this movie came out, I remember sitting in the theater and starting to zone out during Tommy Lee Jones’s final monologue as Ed Tom Bell (I didn’t know it was the last scene of the movie). When the screen cut to black, I realized I missed the ending. Fortunately, there was a bookstore nearby, and I was able to find the book and read the last few pages, which matched his monologue almost exactly.

Unlike the film, the entire book is narrated by Bell, in which he has an extensive backstory. So does Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), both of which are missing in the film version. This Oscar-winning screenplay shows that writers can remove character backstories if it benefits the pacing and isn’t needed to tell the story as a movie.

"Parts of the book are lifted verbatim but they appear in the book as first person ruminations by the sheriff in alternating chapters outside of the action,” Joel Coen said in an interview with The Skinny. “One of the interesting challenges of adapting the novel was how to preserve that voice. In certain cases, we took his words, but put them into the context of a scene usually involving the sheriff and the deputy."

4. The Godfather (1972)

Novel by Mario Puzo, Screenplay by Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola

When The Godfather novel was released it became an instant classic and several actors, producers and filmmakers fought to secure the rights. It ended up getting bought by Paramount Pictures, and soon became a massive challenge to adapt, produce and shoot (there are several books and a TV miniseries on this that are worth reading/watching).

"To me originally, and anyone who remembers the original Godfather book, it had a lot of sleazy aspects to it, which of course were cut out for the movie, and I didn't like it very much for those reasons," Francis Ford Coppola said in a 1985 BBC interview.

In fact, The Godfather Part II was also based on the original novel. So adapting the novel into the first film, as Coppola stated above, involved cutting a lot from the book and not just the sleazy part, but Vito Corleone’s whole backstory. Coppola focused on the cultural aspect of the story he could relate to: his Italian heritage, tradition, family and the story of America (it’s why the first scene line of the movie is “I believe in America.”)

What helped make the adapted screenplay work was that Coppola understood the themes on a personal level, and knew how to maintain that vision from book-to-screen.

As for me, I was always lukewarm on the movie, which is sinful as a filmmaker. Then I read the novel and now I love the movie. What works is that both stand alone, but both novel and film elevate each other.

5. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Novel by Thomas Harris, Screenplay by Ted Tally

As with any adaptation, it’s important to focus on what matters most in a film rather than the nuances of the book. The film adaptation of The Silence of the Lambs pared down subplots and removed characters (including a major one), while diving deeper into Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster), particularly her underdog status among her male FBI colleagues and her perceived weakness in the field. Her chess-like battle of wits with Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) proves her capability and shows that someone so intelligent sees her as a worthy match.

The movie relies on the actors’ subtle expressions and behaviors to convey meaning and emotion without the extensive exposition found in a novel. The filmmakers preserved the relationship between Starling and Hannibal, as well as the terrifying kidnapping and serial killings carried out by Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine). Perhaps what stands out most is that the audience ultimately finds itself rooting for Lecter: a cannibalistic, psychotic serial killer.

Ryan Gosling in 'Project Hail Mary'

6. Project Hail Mary (2026)

Novel by Andy Weir, Screenplay by Drew Goddard

Project Hail Mary will go down as one of the best adapted screenplays of the 2020s. It’s not only a well-made and popular film, but writing a screenplay about a man alone in space befriending an alien who is all but impossible to talk to is no easy feat.

Fortunately, for Goddard, Ryan Gosling had already signed on to star in Project Hail Mary, so he could write protagonist Ryland Grace with an actor in mind. 

The adaptation is a great example for many of the same ways Jurassic Park worked. It explained complex scientific information without talking down to the audience, turned exposition into action and found the best scenes that stick out in the source material and then crafted a story around those moments.

7. Dune (2021)

Novel by Frank Herbert, Screenplay by Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve and Eric Roth

Dune is considered one of those novels that is nearly impossible to adapt. It was tried in 1984 with David Lynch at the helm but it didn’t quite find its audience. 

The latest iteration spans several movies and a TV series to follow up. Unlike the 1984 version, plans were set in motion to make the new movies as epic as the dozens of books in the series. This involved making two movies based on the original Dune, followed by a third film due out in December 2026 based on Herbert’s second Dune novel.

What works best in Dune is how the writers were able to do what most great adaptations accomplish: knowing the themes, maintaining the plot and developing its characters.

 

'Dune'

Adapting original material into a screenplay is inherently challenging, as complete fidelity to the source material  is largely impossible. The most successful adaptations focus on what matters most: the core themes, and the characters that drive the story. They are also shaped by their time; many are produced soon after a book’s release, allowing them to retain cultural relevance.

But what if To Kill a Mockingbird were adapted again today? How would it differ from the 1962 film? These are essential questions, but perhaps the most important is: Why this story, and why now?

While the answer may begin with its popularity and commercial appeal, the strongest adaptations go further. They justify their existence by revealing why the story must be told now and what it offers to a modern audience. In the end, a truly meaningful adaptation doesn’t just revisit a story; it redefines its relevance for a new generation.

Directed by Steven Soderbergh and written by Ed Solomon, The Christophers is a brilliant dark comedy that follows a twisty path in search of the place where art, commerce and family intersect. The story centers on Julian Sklar (Ian McKellen), who was once the prime rabble-rouser of London’s 1960s art scene. Now in his 80s and totally broke, he spends his days recording messages for fans on Cameo instead of painting. 

When his two adult children (James Corden, Jessica Gunning), hire Lori (Michaela Coel), an art restorer and former forger to access “The Christophers,” eight unfinished canvases Julian has buried deep in the attic, they concoct a plan to ensure a six-figure inheritance. We spoke with screen writer Ed Solomon about crafting this witty, dialogue-driven script that’s an exploration of art in the age of reality TV that ultimately revealed a deeply personal story he hadn’t set out to tell.

An Unexpected Influence

For a writer whose career spans everything from the dude comedy Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, to the high-concept spectacle of Men in Black, to the experimental storytelling of Mosaic, Ed Solomon has always wanted to explore new avenues of storytelling.

But beneath the highbrow artistic premise of The Christophers is something far more personal. For Solomon, the story wasn’t just about the art world, it was about unresolved relationships that had been quietly shaping his work for years.

“I have always wanted to tell a story about my relationship with various mentor figures in my life,” Solomon says. “Several of whom gave up for different reasons.”

With a prompt from Steven Soderbergh, Solomon was excited to finally get to explore this idea in the art world. Only recently did he realize just how close to home the story really was.

“The whole time, without ever realizing it until about two weeks ago, it struck me that my mother is also an artist,” he says. “A painter who did give up for a little while to be a parent and take a day job. It was very painful for me. I was like, holy moly. This informed so much of the story, and yet I didn't even realize it.”

Now 94, he says his mother had to give up painting because her painting style was very physical. “She's no longer able to do that, but what she did every day is what I do every day, I realized. She would go into her studio and spend the day there. Enjoying the freedom from the world, enjoying the chance to be lost in self-expression, and then come home.”

Though he hadn’t consciously put his mother into this story, her artistic life and choices clearly made an impact on Solomon. He was telling a story he didn’t know he needed to tell. Perhaps even she needed him to tell. Sometimes, the meaning of art reveals itself after the fact, not before. More on this in a bit.

Writing as Discovery, Not Control

If there’s a single idea that defines Solomon’s approach to The Christophers, it’s this: Writing is less about imposing structure and more about uncovering what already exists within the concept.

“The thing that Steven [Soderbergh] and I talk about a lot is: What is the thing itself, and what does it want to be?” 

For Solomon, this has become less of a metaphor and more of a method. He compares the process to parenting.

“You realize your job is not to force that child into what you think they ought to be, but rather help shepherd them so they can be the best manifestation of who they want to be,” he says. “That is our job as writers as well.” 

This mindset stands in direct contrast to rigid outlining or elaborate plotting. Instead of forcing characters through pre-planned beats, Solomon allows them to evolve, even if that means deviating from the original plan.

 

Michaela Coel in 'The Christophers' - Photo credit: Claudette Barius

The Power of Constraints

Because The Christophers was designed as a contained project with limited locations and minimal characters, Solomon found himself working within strict guidelines. But rather than limiting possibilities, those constraints elevated his creativity.

“When you’re given limitations, the creativity that comes out of that can sometimes be more inspired, more unusual, more exciting,” he says. 

Solomon likens it to writing exercises or even reshoots, any time where restrictions force unexpected solutions.

“Having prompts, having rules, can really free you,” he says. 

For writers working on contained films or low-budget specs, it’s crucial to remember that limitations aren’t a compromise, they’re a creative tool.

Let Your Characters Be Ahead of You

One of Solomon’s most practical insights comes from how he approached character dynamics in the film.

“Another lesson I learned was how valuable it is when characters are a little bit ahead of where you might think they are. I thought, ‘What if Julian and Lori had a history that he didn’t know about, but she did?’ The more personal it gets, the more charged it gets,” he says. 

This led to a stunning moment when Julian reveals he is actually familiar with Lori due to a reality TV show called Art Fight where she was a contestant. We assumed she had the upper hand, and are shocked when Julian reveals he knows more than he’s letting on. It’s a great example of the dramatic impact from a character being ahead of you. 

“The more you know, sometimes the better,” Solomon says. “Don’t hoard your reveals.” 

 

Jessica Gunning and James Corden in 'The Christophers' - Photo credit: Claudette Barius

Emotion Over Intellect

If there’s one concept Solomon returns to repeatedly, it’s this: Writing is not an intellectual exercise.

“For me, it is 100% about feeling,” he says. 

That philosophy becomes especially critical in a film like The Christophers, which relies heavily on dialogue and interpersonal dynamics rather than plot. To sustain that kind of storytelling, Solomon emphasizes a deep emotional understanding of character.

“Understand their history, their dreams, their desires, what breaks their heart,” he says. 

In practical terms, this means writing with a full sense of a character’s past and future, even if those elements never explicitly appear on screen. It also helps solve one of the biggest challenges of contained storytelling: Maintaining momentum without big spectacles or action scenes.

Collaboration and Trust

Solomon credits much of his creative evolution to his ongoing collaboration with Soderbergh. 

He describes Soderbergh as, “The most in-control and yet the least controlling director I’ve worked with.” He adds that Soderbergh is someone who creates an environment where experimentation is not just allowed, but expected. For Solomon, growth is the most exciting part of the work. 

“Sometimes, you’re just outside your comfort zone but you have to grow in order to achieve it,” he says. 

When Life Imitates Art

Going back to Solomon’s mom: Just a couple weeks ago, he was able to take his unexpected muse to see The Christophers at the Sonoma Film Festival, which isn’t too far from her home. 

“She’s in a wheelchair now, but she got all dressed up. It was really lovely to see because my dad passed away just two months ago. But I was telling her how much she inspired this movie, but also how much she has informed how I view my craft. It was such a great experience to share that with her. Very moving,” he says. 

The Christophers is currently playing in theaters. 

Long before actor, writer, and director Jon Favreau was a behemoth in the Disney, Marvel, and Star Wars universes, he was a struggling actor and writer hustling his way through Hollywood with a script he wrote on spec, the now-iconic indie hit Swingers (1996).

That script didn’t just launch his career - it established his voice. He followed it up by writing, directing, and starring in Made (2001). Many years later, after the success of becoming one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s key directors and producers, he wrote, directed, and starred in the acclaimed Chef (2014), which was a film and script that many point to as a masterclass in simple and personal character-driven storytelling. 

Iconic director Robert Rodriguez recently launched his YouTube channel El Ray Network, which features episodes of his interview series The Director’s Chair, where he interviews some of the most iconic filmmakers of our time.

Here we share ten screenwriting lessons screenwriters can learn from some of Favreau’s best quotes from his interview. 

1. Give Your Ideas Room to Breath and Gestate

“Usually I write fast because it’s been gestating.”

Being able to write fast (and write well in the process) is a hot commodity to have as a screenwriter. When you become a pro, you need to be able to write under tight deadlines. If you can train yourself to do that, you’ll be well ahead of others vying for the same attention and consideration from Hollywood.

One trick to drive yourself to write fast is to let the idea gestate as long as possible to the point where you can wait no longer.

Visualize your story. Build on your characters and plot points during that visualization. Let those visuals grow and grow in your imagination. See as much of the movie as possible in your head before typing a single word. 

Don’t start writing until you have so much work done in your head that when you do start writing, the words and pages flow. 

2. Try to Get Through the First Draft Quickly  

“I don’t want to get off the scent. So I want to get through that first draft.. I’ll usually push through in less than a month. 'Swingers' was like two weeks… 'Chef', by the time I actually wrote it, was two weeks… 'Made' was like a month. I’ll go back and rewrite, but I want to get through it.”

Once you’ve let everything gestate to the point where you can’t hold back the writing any longer, you'll be able to start writing at a pace where you can get through the first draft fairly quickly. 

Having an open-ended deadline can do more harm than good when you’re first starting out. If you go into the writing process with a little more urgency, deadline-wise, you can not only get through your first draft quickly, but you can also train yourself to write under Hollywood contract-type deadlines which usually offer you just a month or two to finish the first draft while under assignment.  

3. Keep the Momentum Going

“I feel like it could disappear at any minute. I don’t want to let it go. I’ve taken a break from screenplays and I have a lot of forty-page screenplays. And I hate that feeling. It feels so powerless.”

It’s so easy to lose momentum. Letting the idea gestate ahead of time helps to build a sense of inner urgency and passion to get what’s in your head onto the page. But you need to keep that momentum going. If you approach it with Favreau’s perspective of never wanting to lose the scent of your concept, story, and characters, you’ll find yourself riding that momentum through a full first draft.

Avoid taking long breaks between writing sessions. Try to never step away from a script during the writing process. Weather through any writer’s block and just keep writing.

If you can get through that first draft as quickly as possible, you’ll be able to retain that momentum, which will also fuel the necessary continued passion for your project.  

'Swingers'

4. The Power of Screenwriting Software

“I had been reading so many scripts on auditions. My dad got me the Final Draft software… it was amazing that I could type it in and the next thing I know, wow, I’ve got five pages.”

There’s really a sense of accomplishment when you first start using professional screenwriting software, especially when you’re using the industry standard that is Final Draft. The software immediately takes the formatting weight off of your shoulders, allowing you to focus solely on story, characterization, structure, etc.

The best early investment towards your screenwriting career is Final Draft screenwriting software. Eliminate any worries, confusion, or anxieties about formatting and instead focus on just telling your story. 

5. Successful Screenwriters Are Just Like You

“I’m still the same guy. Nothing feels different.”

There’s a comfort in knowing that most successful screenwriters are just like any up-and-comers. Favreau discusses that success just brings more pressure and has you on a much tighter and higher rope. But you’re still the same person you were when you were struggling to get your scripts written and read.

It’s easy to put successful screenwriters and filmmakers on a pedestal. It’s also easy to believe that with success comes less burden, less worry, and less self-consciousness. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Take comfort in knowing that you’re just a great script or lucky break away from being at the same level as the successful screenwriters you look up to right now.   

'Chef'

6. Give Your Characters More and More Obstacles to Overcome

“Another good storytelling technique… obstacles… the magic eightball note that you always get from an executive is ‘more obstacles’. And there’s some truth to it.”

Obstacles cause conflict. And conflict is the driving force of outstanding storytelling. When you’re feeling your script is flat, losing momentum, or needs a jolt in pacing, throw some more obstacles at your characters. Challenge them. Create continual evolving and growing conflict as the script goes on. Hollywood and audiences want to see your characters prevail over or succumb to as many obstacles and forms of conflict as possible. Why? Because it raises the stakes and makes the cinematic experience more engaging and impactful. 

And here’s one trick of the trade: use obstacles to better your character’s arc. The more obstacles they overcome, the better their character arcs will be by the end. 

7. Embrace the Chase

“I would prefer the odds against me. What’s harder is when you’ve been anointed and now you’ve gotta somehow impress people. How do you do the road work when you’ve got the belt? I know when you want the belt, that you’re going to get up in the morning and drink those raw eggs and run. But when you’ve got the belt, that’s a whole other thing. It’s a different set of challenges.”

Take comfort in knowing that those who succeed still face plenty of challenges and obstacles of their own. It’s also good to know to expect those additional and varied challenges and obstacles that come with success. In the meantime, embrace the chase. Use it to your advantage. Let it drive you to work harder, think smarter, and be more creative. 

8. Be Prepared for Success

“Success can be just as overwhelming as failure.”

Failure and rejection is a necessary part of the screenwriting journey. You can’t learn and grow as a screenwriter without failure. Embrace it. Use every instance and piece of failure and rejection as a tool to become a better screenwriter.

But you also have to prepare yourself for everything that comes with success. It can be overwhelming. When you have a script that finally turns some Hollywood heads, now you’re about to be asked to:

Attend networking meetings. Apply notes for rewrites. Compete with other writers for assignments. Come up with the next great idea or script. 

You can prepare yourself for success by:

Knowing your stories to the point where you can pitch them with ease. Being creative and collaborative with notes. Having confidence in your abilities. Always thinking ahead by having great concepts waiting in the wings.

Don’t fall into the trap of thinking success makes everything easier in your screenwriting journey. As Favreau said, success just presents a whole new set of challenges to face. 

 

'The Mandalorian'

9. Be Ready to Deliver on Hollywood’s Wants and Needs

“You actually get less freedom with more success.”

This is a great insider perspective to help prepare yourself for the “big league.” When you’re writing on spec (under speculation that you’ll sell your script to someone), you have more freedom to explore new ways to tell effective cinematic stories. But when you’re writing on assignment after breaking through with a spec script, you need to be ready, willing, and able to deliver on Hollywood’s wants and needs.

Notes are no longer feedback at this level. They are wants and needs (and sometimes demands) that you need to apply to your writing. Those wants, needs, and demands will be based on things like budget constraints, scheduling issues, location scouting, and overall intended vision of the producers and directors.

Being a pro screenwriter is all about being able to utilize and showcase your talents, while also adhering to the wants and needs of those who employ you. If you can be creative and offer solutions to any problems their notes are addressing - as opposed to pointing out more problems those notes may cause in your writing process - you’ll show them that you’re a collaborative screenwriter who can get the job done.  

10. Always Remember That You’re Writing for the Audience

“[It’s] for the audience…”

In the end, you’re writing for the audience. Sure, you can write for yourself during your writing process, as opposed to trying to guess what the audience would prefer to see. But when all is said and done, screenwriters are writing cinematic blueprints for movies intended for an audience.

When in doubt, put yourself in the shoes of the audience. Put yourself in that theater seat, holding your popcorn, treats, and drink as you stare up at that big screen. Put yourself on their couches as they scroll in search of something compelling to watch.

Screenwriters are in the business of entertainment. That’s what is expected. You’re there to create something that entertains. Audiences watch movies because they want to laugh, scream, cry, or cheer. They want to be moved and entertained.

Always ask yourself, “What would really surprise or shock the audience? What would make them laugh the most? What would make them jump out of their seats in shock and terror? What would move them to tears? What would keep them on the edge of their seats?”

Some wise words and perspective from one of our cinematic greats: Jon Favreau. 

In today’s evolving film and television landscape, having a fresh, compelling screenplay or TV pilot is a must for emerging writers. It’s what gets you into a meeting. But Lee Jessup, a longtime advocate for screenwriters and a key figure in the Final Draft Big Break winners’ mentorship process, says agents, managers and producers are looking for something more. 

“Today we’re in an age in the industry where it is about connecting the story and the storyteller,” Jessup says. “Not just about who has the most interesting story, but rather what is your personal connection to it.” 

Beyond the Script: The Missing Piece

For many emerging writers, this can be a blind spot. They spend years studying structure, dialogue, and genre, yet when they finally get in the room, they struggle to answer a deceptively simple question: Why this story? Why you?

Jessup’s work with Big Break winners often begins there. Before the meetings, before the pitches, before the networking strategy, she helps writers identify the personal throughline that ties them to their work, whether that connection is thematic, a lived experience, or an uncommon point of view.

That preparation becomes critical during the whirlwind of industry meetings that follow a major win. Writers aren’t just presenting ideas, they’re presenting themselves as artists, collaborators, and long-term creative partners.

“It’s really accessing that personal story, connecting the personal story to the work,” Jessup says. When you connect your screenplay to your own lived experience or point of view, the story will unfold more organically and become more emotionally accessible. 

So it’s not just about writing a powerful story, it’s about how you embody it and how you invite others into it with you. For writers, that means understanding that every room is different. The way you frame your story should shift depending on who you’re speaking to, what they respond to, and where common ground exists. It’s less about delivering a rehearsed pitch and more about creating a dynamic.

Being Your Own Champion

Sometimes, writers can be a bit shy and prefer to stay behind the scenes. But Jessup urges all writers to put themselves out there by applying for competitions, labs and workshops, and also exhibiting a strong brand – both in-person and online.

Writers, she says, need to think of themselves as their own representatives long before anyone else steps in. “You are your own champion, and as your own champion, you have to look at the avenues that can open doors for you.”

In other words, no one is going to build your career for you. The work isn’t just writing the script, it’s actively finding the places where that script can be seen and having that script fit into your brand as a whole.

Beyond script submissions and developing your brand, be thoughtful about relationships. Whether you’re in Los Angeles or not, Jessup stresses the importance of finding ways to connect with other writers, with industry professionals, and with anyone moving through the same ecosystem. “You never know where your break is going to come from,” she says. Instead of focusing solely on reaching the top of the ladder, she encourages writers to build connections with peers, assistants, and collaborators who are all on their way up. Those relationships are often the ones that matter most.

To capture that mindset, Jessup offers a metaphor that feels both daunting and liberating: “Your job, as a writer, is to put boats in the river.” Every screenplay submission, every opportunity and every relationship is another boat set afloat. When you’re consistently creating, submitting, and showing up, you begin to multiply your chances.

“Every single one of those represents a boat on the water,” she says.

Of course, volume alone isn’t enough. “Those boats need to be well-built and well-maintained,” she says, meaning your scripts need to be strong. The effort needs to be intentional. The more thoughtfully you put your work into the world, the more opportunities you create for something to come back.

The Takeaway: You Are Part of the Pitch

Jessup’s guidance ultimately frames how writers should think about their careers.

The script gets you in the room. But what happens next depends on your ability to connect your work to your lived experience, your perspective, and your voice. That’s what transforms a strong sample into a memorable introduction.

And it’s not a one-time exercise. Jessup works with writers not only on how to tell their story, but on how to adapt it in real time, like reading the room, finding points of connection, and building relationships that extend beyond a single meeting.

Because in an industry built on collaboration, the goal isn’t just to sell one project, it’s to establish yourself as a storyteller worth investing in long-term. It’s also a good reminder not to underestimate the value of your own perspective.

Enter the Final Draft Big Break Screenwriting Competition for your chance to be mentored by Lee Jessup or learn more about her work at leejessup.com.