My biggest question with “poetic” scripts, like these two, is how much is intentionally metaphorical and how much naturally metaphorical? What gives a writer the ability to assemble sentences that are poetic descriptions rather than merely structural blueprints?

To me, intention indicates significant preplanning for the use of particular words and phrases; whereas natural means that in the course of writing, the writer used the particular phrase or word because he subconsciously knew it would be the right choice, even if he only changed it on the tenth pass; if it’s a combination of the two, to what degree?

I believe writing like this can be taught, and perhaps mastered; but a good verbal vocabulary, exercised regularly, combined with wit that appreciates puns, double entendres, innuendo and onomatopoeia is what makes certain writers stand out. Shakespeare used thousands of puns in his writing.

In M. Knight Shyamalan’s first draft of Sixth Sense, did he write “The light bulb comes to life” or simply “The light comes on” and then go back and change it; or where his first words “A light bulb sparks to life.” Did he later add the word “naked” to heighten to the sensuality of the scene, which makes it just that much more intriguing for the reader? Was “sparks” used because that’s the sound that light bulbs seem to make?

Was Alan Ball’s first choice to describe cutting a rose really prune? Or on his rewrite did he change it to SNIP when he couldn’t hear the rose being cut? Did he consciously know that he was comparing the rose to Lester? He chose to use the American Beauty variety of rose for the title, why not the Feminine Wiles variety of iris? (Okay, I had to search for a good flower variety, and I’ve never heard of spreading iris petals on a bed as a touch of romance – but I have seen irises during funerals and Lester’s opening words end with “In less than a year, I'll be dead,” and feminine wiles seduce us through out the script.)

And I’m not saying that they didn’t work damn hard writing the outlines, treatments and scripts. But it is easier than using the thesaurus every five sentences.

I guess the way to find out would to be to ask these writers just how intentional the choice of those particular words really was. Or was it the natural poetic selection of gifted writers?

Scott, any chance you could find out?

Good questions, Tom.

I think strong writing like this comes naturally. The speed with which such writers can craft evocative sentences without constant revision and thesaurus-hunting is inherent, not learned. The same effect can be achieved by anyone willing to put in the time, but the advantage clearly belongs to those writers to whom it comes with ease.

You raise a critical point and it's one I think about often when watching a movie. When I see some thematic element playing out in this way or that, I wonder if (A) the filmmakers were conscious of what they were doing or (B) it was serendipity at work.

Of course, to say 'serendipity' is to suggest complete chance, when I think that's generally not the case. Because when the writer and director so immerse themselves into the story world, I believe connections and elements start to emerge whether conscious or not.

So a better choice of words would be "synchronicity" ala C.G. Jung, that almost mystical connection that can occur when we open ourselves to the possibilities that our stories carry.

Did Alan Ball intentionally put that image of Lester masturbating followed directly by Carolyn snipping the rose with her shears? Or did it just 'happen'? In either case, the connection of the two images conveys something symbolic and visceral. Some eyes see it, others don't on a conscious level. But what about on the subconscious level?

Over time, I have come to perceive 'story' as an organic entity. And our relationship to 'story' is not an I / It one, but rather I / You. I posted about this here.

So a long-winded non-answer to your question. Perhaps there is no answer. Perhaps it's simply an act of faith. Just like my son Luke suggested: "Go into the story, and find the animals." We commit to the first, and if we trust the process, we find the 'animals' called themes, motifs, symbols, dialogue, subtext, etc.

One of my favorite scripts is The Squid and the Whale by Noah Baumbach. It starts like this:

**

BLACK

FRANK (V.O.)
Mom and me versus you and Dad.

**

He's literally talking about the tennis game they're playing, but figuratively talking about the sides Frank and his brother will take when their parents split up.

Every scene in the script is about the tension between the two sides. Very effective, IMHO. Some people don't like the script or film, but it worked well for me. I read the script once every 3 or 4 months for pleasure. How many scripts can you say that about? Not many - here's my short list of favorite scripts: Adaptation, Michael Clayton, Little Miss Sunshine and The Birdcage.