OVERHEARD DIALOGUE
It gets annoying, doesn’t it? All the experts–and yeah, me too–trying to tell you how to write F-U-N-N-Y? Is such a thing even possible?
It’s doubtful there’s a simple answer. . It would be more complex, like at Second City where they provide you with tools to bring out your natural gifts, or in educating you in terms of those who came before you, improvisation exercises, etc. It’s art and craft, or more specifically, the craft of the art.
One of the exercises I use–and one I would recommend you try, Good Reader– is to write down some conversation you hear this week into screenplay dialogue format. Take it from the air, lay it out on the page. When you look it over, what do you see? It doesn’t play out in straight noun-verb, perfect grammatical sentences. Far from it. Because it’s spoken.
Which is the key to writing good dialogue–write to be said, not read. Everything you write will come out of an actor’s mouth so you have to hear it.
Use your ears. Yeah, it’ll be painful to listen to humanity—to really listen to your fellow man, but it’s the only way to sus-out true to life dialogue.
Let’s look at some of these conversation/exercises submitted to me by students through the years…
WHO’S STEPHAN?
Waiting in line to the use the bathroom at a house party. About 30 people, and we have the two dumbest girls in front of us.
DRUNK GIRL 1: God, I have to take a piss. I hope this chick hurries up.
A phone rings.
DRUNK GIRL 2: Is that your phone? I love that ring. Who is it?
DRUNK GIRL 1: It’s Stephan. Who the fuck is Stephan?
DRUNK GIRL 2: Well, answer it and find out.
DRUNK GIRL 1: I’m not answering if I don’t know who the fuck it is.
They stare at each other and think real hard.
DRUNK GIRL 1: OHHH! Stephan’s my dad!
The Takeaway: Broad comedy staples—the dumb, the drunk. The dumb AND drunk!
- RESTAURANT TALK(BACK WHEN YOU WERE CLOSE ENOUGH TO HEAR)
Setting: A restaurant, table for two, man and a woman eating.
WOMAN: What are you thinking about?
MAN: You, us.
WOMAN: Doing what?
MAN: Oh, we’re happy.
WOMAN: We’re always happy.
MAN: I know.
Silence.
MAN: How’s your food?
WOMAN: Oh, it’s good.
MAN: Yeah?
WOMAN: Mhmmm.
MAN: I’ll have to order that sometime.
WOMAN: Yeah, you should.
THE TAKEAWAY: Great subtext. Think about how many ways the actors could play this dialogue…. Anywhere from the way it plays out superficially, these being two people, bland but happy enough…all the way to these two utterly hating each other. Lesson? Subtext = say it without saying it.
- ROOFIES
MAN 1: Yo, listen to this shit, yo. You heard about that shit roofies, right? The date rape drug.
MAN 2: Oh, I didn’t know about that shit.
MAN 1: A’ight…peep this right…this kid, I was chillin’ with him and shit, right…he was telling me—
MAN 2: Wait, roofies are for what?
MAN 1: A date rape drug. Makes you like…pass out, unconscious. Check this right, tell me this shit ain’t ill. Shit just freaked me out. This guy met a girl down the club. She was like, ‘wanna go back to my place?’ He woke up in a bathtub full of ice, gets us…his whole side is stitched up. He freaks out and goes to the hospital and they x-ray him. They stole his kidney!!!”
TAKEAWAY: Sounds like an urban legend the student grabbed off the internet. Listen to the passage though. Speak it out and you’ll hear this pop with choice words, repetition and tone. It’s got interruption, black humor…it’s funny, long as it’s not my kidney they removed!
- ELEVATOR AT COLUMBIA COLLEGE (BACK WHEN YOU FIT 8 IN AN ELEVATOR, WHEN THEY’RE WEREN’T SOCIAL-DISTANCING CIRCLES ON THE GROUND, OR WHEN THERE WERE LIVE CLASSES AT COLUMBIA COLLEGE-CHICAGO)
Setting: An elevator. Older Man in a business suit, joined by a middle-aged Woman, waiting for the elevator doors to close.
WOMAN: Hi, Norman.
MAN: Hello, Denise.
The door begin to close. A girl sprints toward the elevator, reaching her hand through to stop them from closing.
WOMAN: We’re not going to play the save-late-people-from-waiting-for-the-elevator game, are we?
Girl enters the elevator, awkwardly squeezing by the Woman.
WOMAN: How’ve you been, Norman?
MAN: Fine. Tired.
WOMAN: I know, me too. I’m so done with this. Honestly, Norman, I can’t even handle the sound of my own voice any more. I hear myself rambling at the podium about the dumbest shit. And I’m thinking: ‘Is this what it’s come to?’
MAN: Mhmmm.
WOMAN: Christ Norman, I feel like a puppet, don’t you? What are we but giant puppets getting paid to spout off the most useless information? Don’t you feel like a puppet, Norman?
MAN: Mhmmm.
WOMAN: Do you ever think about giving it all up? I’m thinking about it. I’m serious about it this time. Do you ever think about it?
MAN: Uhmm….
WOMAN: You should. You really should.
MAN: Ok.
WOMAN: It was good talking to you, I have to get off. I’m late for class again and the TA never unlocks the door.
MAN: What are you teaching?
WOMAN: Children, Family, and the Community
MAN: Ah….
TAKEAWAY: “So good talking to you again!” The gag—which the audience gets— is that this is a monologue punctuated only by his grunts. The confined space helps, his pain in being trapped with this bore of a woman. You see this essential exchange in lots of TV and movies. Laughter in the selfishness of her POV, in his pain at having to deal with her. Pity the kids in that class!
- THE LAST TIME I TALKED TO DYLAN
Setting: Darla’s home. Darla is on her computer. Phone rings– It’s Dylan. She sighs, answers.
DYLAN: Hi.
DARLA: Hi.
DYLAN: What’s up?
DARLA: Sleepy. You?
DYLAN: Same, sorta. (pause) Cam?
DARLA: Not tonight.
DYLAN: Why not?
DARLA: I’m exhausted. Kinda had a shitty couple days. Just not feeling it.
DYLAN: Alright. Why were they shitty?
DARLA: Just shit with my dad and my friend, about the apartment.
DYLAN: Ah.
DARLA: Furniture, fees, moving…grown up shit I’m not used to.
DYLAN: Oh, so because they’re telling you show shit really is, you have a shitty week, resulting in limiting other people’s fun? Sounds fair…seeing as I’m limiting my ability to give a shit.
DARLA: What? I never asked you to–
DYLAN: You summed it up clear as day. That’s life.
DARLA: I don’t want to get into this. You’re just bitching at me for not camming.
DYLAN: I can care less about that right now. It’s that you do this 24/7.
DARLA: No I don’t. I just don’t want to cam.
DYLAN: You punish others for your misfortune–
DARLA: I look like SHIT. I feel like shit…I don’t want to cam!
DYLAN: SEE? You’re still assuming I want to cam. Assumption is the key to a failed friendship.
DARLA: You always do!
DYLAN: I don’t!
DARLA: “Hey…what’s up…cam…what do you mean no?! Hang up.
DYLAN: You need to fucking suck it up.
DARLA: Wow, you are so rude!
DYLAN: You don’t like talking to people who tell you the truth. Life’s so hard in Chicago, why even be there?!
DARLA: I go to school here!
DYLAN: For shit you most likely won’t even be interested in in two years. Because YOUR PARENTS have the money for it.
DARLA: Because you know so much about college and not living off your parents?! How’s that GED going?
DYLAN: FUCK SCHOOL! My dad didn’t go to college and he makes more than both your parents combined!
DARLA: And he’s kicking you out.
DYLAN: Excuse me?! (various expletives indecipherable) You need to get off your high horse.
DARLA: “My dad makes more than your parents combined!”
DYLAN: You can suck my fuckin’ dick! You’re just a fucking princess who expects everything and uses her insecurities as a crutch.
DARLA: You are such a fucking neurotic, Dylan! That’s why you have to talk to me! Because no one else will talk to you any more, and now I’m DONE–
DYLAN screams the word “HYPOCRITE” over and over and over and over and…
Darla hangs up.
THE TAKEAWAY: Whoever said the ability for constant communication was a good thing???! Fascinating to watch this conversation fall apart bit by bit. Starts off polite, mundane…ends with scorched earth, in two pages. Not an easy thing to create from scratch. Look to every scene for the beats, for subtext in what’s being said and not being said, like railroad tracks between what the emotion and what is actually happening. Look for multiple levels, complexity. Figure out why you’re in the scene, accomplish what you need to accomplish, and get out fast.
