Hi, I’m Michael.
This is Lessons from the Screenplay.
In part one, I covered two things: the design of the characters, and how Alan Ball uses
dialogue to reveal character.
I also mentioned that I consider American Beauty to be as close to a perfect movie as
you can get.
But for all it's greatness, the script is not without flaws.
It breaks one of the basic rules of screenwriting, and almost twenty-seven pages were cut from
the film by director Sam Mendes during the last week of editing.
Almost a fifth of the script.
Why?
How did this movie which I consider perfect arise from an imperfect script?
A script you could even argue was for a different movie.
In this video, I want to examine one of the main flaws in the screenplay, then look at
the scenes that were cut from the final version of American Beauty.
Describing What is in a Character’s Head
Unlike a novel, a screenplay ultimately isn’t meant to be read, it’s meant to be watched
and heard.
Unless it's something you can point a camera or microphone at, you can’t be sure the
audience will understand it just because you wrote it into the script.
Let’s look at a few examples.
“Get out!
I don’t ever want to see you again!”
Ricky stands there, eyeing the Colonel.
He’s finally discovered a way to break free from his father, and he can’t believe it
was this simple.
This action line is describing what is inside Ricky’s head.
This sentence is the only part that’s visual.
The only part that you could point a camera at.
I personally never got the sense that Ricky was struggling to break free from his father,
so I was a bit confused when I read this line.
I don’t think this is conveyed on screen.
This underscores the danger of describing what’s in a character’s head.
Just because you write it in an action line, doesn’t mean it will be communicated to
the audience.
Let’s look at another example where Alan Ball describes what’s inside a character’s
head, but where it is conveyed on screen.
In this scene Jane discovers Ricky videotaping her.
She flips him off, then comes inside and checks if he’s still there.
Her POV: The Fitts' porch light is still on, but there's no sign of Ricky.
Jane starts quietly up the stairs.
Then, just as she’s almost out of sight, she smiles, a schoolgirl thrilled to discover
she’s the object of a schoolboy’s crush.
Again, the only part of this sentence a writer can be sure the audience will see on screen
is: “she smiles.”
But in this case, the motivation of the smile is clear from the context of the story.
We know Jane wants to feel attractive, and now she’s seen that a boy is interested
in her, so she smiles.
We would know it’s a schoolgirl smile even without that extra detail.
Let’s look at one last example, from just a page earlier, where Alan Ball doesn’t
include what’s inside the character’s head.
“I really have a shot at being a model.”
“Which is great, because there’s nothing worse in life than being ordinary.”
An awkward beat.
Jane stares at the floor.
This action is strictly external.
Based on the context, we know Jane looking at the floor means Angela’s words made her
feel terrible about herself.
We don't need any descriptive text added at the end.
We get it.
The writer's job is to structure their story in a way that reveals characters' motivations.
If you need overly descriptive action lines for a reader to follow your script, you may
have a problem.
The last things I want to talk about are the deleted scenes.
The twenty-seven pages of script that they actually filmed, and made up the movie that
almost was.
There are several smaller changes and missing scenes in the script, but one I found interesting
is a deeper explanation of Colonel Fitts’s backstory.
In the final film there are no overt expressions of how layered the Colonel’s feelings are
until this beautifully vulnerable moment when he kisses Lester.
In the screenplay, however, it’s clear much earlier that Colonel Fitts’s homophobia
comes from his own repressed feelings.
After the Colonel attacks Ricky for breaking into his cabinet, we see why he was so upset.
“You stay out of there.”
He returns to his study and opens up a box of photographs…
Close on the grainy black and white photograph in his callused hands:
It's of two young servicemen standing in front of a Jeep, both shirtless and wearing fatigues.
Their muscular arms are draped lazily around each other's shoulders as they grin for the camera.
One of these men is the Colonel himself, albeit much younger - almost thirty years younger.
Close on the Colonel's face as he studies the photo.
His breathing has finally relaxed; his face has gone vacant.
The implication here being that these two were together, or at least that the Colonel
had feelings for this other serviceman.
This happens on page eighty-five, and his kiss with Lester doesn’t happen until page
one-hundred-eleven.
I personally prefer how in the final film the Colonel's feelings are less obvious.
It keeps the audience wondering about his behavior, lets them fill in their own backstory for him.
It’s more powerful.
The other missing scenes I want to focus on are the biggest of all.
Sam Mendes describes them like this:
“The first was a kind of prologue in which the kids were found guilty of Lester’s murder,
which was paid off at the end.”
“And we decided to excise that in the last week of editing, cutting room, and it changed
the whole nature of the film.”
These court scenes, which make up the first and last seven pages of the script, are where
we meet all of the characters.
Except, of course, Lester.
Ricky in a prison cell, singing to himself.
Angela on the stand testifying against Jane.
And Carolyn in the gallery next to the Real Estate King.
And as Sam Mendes says, it changes the whole nature of the story.
It prepares you for a crime thriller, not a drama with a heart.
The final sequence of the film has a very different tone.
Between the memories of Lester’s life, we see the kids being arrested and wrongly accused
of his murder.
Colonel Fitts—who actually killed Lester—even gives the police a videotape that makes his
own son look guilty.
Ricky: “Want me to kill him for you?”
“Yeah."
"Would you?”
In the end, both Ricky and Jane are convicted of a crime they didn’t commit.
Jury Foreman:
“We find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree.”
Our last image of them is in prison cells.
Interior Juvenile Prison Facility.
Day.
Jane sits huddled in a corner, staring blankly into space, numb.
All of these things make the ending cynical, depressing.
There’s no trace of the hope found in the rest of the screenplay.
It’s a downer that undercuts theme.
American Beauty was almost a very different movie.
In my previous video, I shared this quote by Sam Mendes, where he says the film they
ended up with was not necessarily the one that was intended.
I find this fascinating.
That due to a combination of luck, creative vision, and a willingness to sacrifice a lot
of hard work…
He found the film we know today amongst the film he thought he was making.
Often, this idea stresses me out.
That so much of filmmaking is reliant on the right place, right time, right people.
That so much depends on luck.
But then I think, perhaps it’s precisely because of their serendipitous nature that
certain films become classics.
“And this, of course, is the culmination of the theme of the movie, if you like.”
“Which is that beauty is found in places you least expect it.”
Ultimately there’s beauty in imperfection.
Thanks for watching part two of American Beauty.
I hope you enjoyed these videos, I had a lot of fun putting them together.
It’s one of my favorite movies and honestly I almost made a third video, but figured that
would be too much.
But, I’m really enjoying making all these videos and would love to keep making more.
But to do so I need your help, so please consider supporting this channel on Patreon.
Every little bit helps.
Please like, and share, and subscribe.
And I’ll see you next time.
“Well that’s true of every day except one: the day you die.”