Screenwriting, Italian-Barber style

Updated this one on June 19. Hadn’t seen my guy Joe–yes, it’s Joe’s Barber Shop–since COVID-19 took over. I had attempted to cut my own hair twice and–you know this because you’ve probably done the same–results were uninspiring.

We’ve since moved into “Stage 4 reopening” here in Chicago yes, I can see Joe again, but only with appointment and at $40 per. Seems Joe’s making up for the months of lost income.

(**Update: July 3…Joe got his hands on me last week and gave me a “wash-n’wear” buzzcut. The Marine cut was hard to accept but harder would be being forced to sit in that chair inches away from the talking Joe for 20+ minutes, or his wiping me off with a brush I godamn-well know wasn’t dipped in sanitizer before it made its way to my face. How many other mouth-breathers have you wiped with that thing? See in 2…no, 3 months, Joe!)

Down, down COVID paranoia! Back to writing…

Write Italian Barber-style. Think about how an Old School barber goes at your head. Far more methodical than stylish, right? He doesn’t go through once and pull the sheet. He goes over it and over it, as many times as it takes. Then he clips the sideburns, gives you a shave and a powder, even tries to spray that sticky styling crap in your hair if you don’t wave him off fast enough. It’s a complete and thorough job and doesn’t vary from head to head. This can be applied to writing…

I know when it’s time to stop a writing session. My body basically shuts down. I stare at the screen and nothing is forthcoming, zippo, can’t find a dialogue solution or the right phrase. I’ll try some last dialogue, which is usually placeholder dialogue. It’s awful, absolute crap. But it’s something. Next day, I go back at it, pick up from where I left off. I firm up the placeholder dialogue into a less pungent  form of crap. Following day, back over the same words until it stops smelling altogether and starts to achieve a shape. Over and over it, like my Italian barber.

There’s a scene in Amadeus that speaks to this. It’s where the producer, begging Mozart for his music, freaks out, ‘I’m paying these people!” and Mozart replies, “It’s done…it’s up here…” pointing to his head. Done, in his head. Music like this…

Very few of us write it perfectly the first time. It takes craft, which is just a mix of patience and talent. And don’t forget the lesson last week about energy. If writing is a priority you’ve got to find good energy hours during the week.

Also, don’t forget: While you might not be Mozart, you should endeavor to write the movie that’s already shot in your head. You’re making the read see a movie, not read a script, get it? Keep it flowing with images and minimal clunky screenwriting technical jargon. That means no CUT TO’s, limited BACK TO BILL’s or INSERTS, write clean MONTAGES or FLASH imagery. Keep me in the flow of the story. Your movie already exists; you’re just laying it down on paper. Write it as you see it, visual as hell, funny, fast, bold, brisk and bright.

Work your craft like an Italian barber, you can’t go wrong. Keep the profile low, Joe!