Syd Field is the Adam of modern screenwriting theory.

Of course it didn’t all begin with Field, but he was the guy who packaged a whole load of useful theory into an easily digestible book, and had it published at a time (1979) when no other book of this kind was available.

Nowadays of course, books like this are everywhere, and many have built on the foundations of Screenplay. If you want a book that explains in detail the principles of classical commercial screenwriting, I would say that you can’t get any better than McKee’s story.     

The classic screenwriting manuals are invariably geared towards writing the great American movie with a linear, cause-and-effect plot, a proactive protagonist with a clear goal and an easily identifiable antagonist (human or otherwise) whose mission is to prevent the protagonist from achieving that goal.  You’ve got the set-up, the complications and the outcome. If you’re writing for Hollywood, then you’d be wise to have the mantras of McKee and Vogler ringing in your ears as you write.

But what if you’re not writing a blockbuster or a European art film? What if you’re writing an indie film that plays around with the conventions of narrative and genre? Well, you could always try this book, but don’t expect it to answer all your prayers. I can see it being useful to some writers, but I find it a little too theoretical. It tends to give examples of how certain films and filmmakers break the rules. In fact, like many screenwriting manuals, the book is loaded with examples of films, which is something I personally find annoying. If I haven’t seen the film, I’m not about to rent it just so that I can get a better understanding of a paragraph or a page.

Also, I don’t find the layout of this book very appealing. If I had a particular project on the go - say a siege film using lots of flashbacks and flashforwards with eight protagonists including two bad guys - then I wouldn’t really know which parts of this book to dip into in order to pick out relevant advice for my project.

In conclusion, there’s a lot of interesting information in this book but you might find that it’s not very user-friendly and also not particularly practical or useful for your particular project.

If you sometimes find yourself using too many wrylies, neglecting your widows or coming up with naked sluglines, then you are in serious need of this book. If you have no idea what I’m going on about, then you are in even more of a serious need of this book. Buy it and keep it on your desk.

Very few books out there offer guidance on how to present your screenplay. This book does just that.

Although it’s not as good as Your Screenplay Sucks! by William M. Akers, How Not to Write a Screenplay does draw attention to countless mistakes that many screenwriters make that reduce their script’s chances of impressing readers, agents, producers and investors alike.

Like Poetics and Bambi Vs Godzilla, this isn’t a screenwriting manual per se, but if you’d like to get an insight into the life and times of a successful Hollywood screenwriter in the latter part of the twentieth century, look no further than this book. It’s a fascinating read, and, like Mamet’s book, shows Hollywood in all its nakedness, and shows that even Oscar-winning screenwriters have no standing whatsoever as far as some producers are concerned.  It seems that not an awful lot has changed since the sixties in that respect. It makes you understand why Alan Ball ditched cinema for TV after scooping the Oscar for American Beauty and not getting a look in by any film producers in town! 

The book also offers some insight into the technique of writing, which is why I’ve included it on this list.

This book is a classic.

It’s esentially an idiot’s guide to The Hero with a Thousand Faces, and is therefore a must-read for anyone who
(a) would like to read The Hero with a Thousand Faces but always gets stuck at page 7, and/or/including
(b) studio execs.

This book is a classic.

It’s a must-read for anyone who
(a) has been diagnosed as “chronically academic”, and
(b) is interested in writing or studying myth/fantasy, and/or (to a lesser extent) action/adventure.

It’s a great shame that so much of Aristotle’s work has been lost forever. However, many of the fragments that have survived remain useful to this day. In Poetics, for example, Aristotle details the importance of plot, and claims that, in order for a drama to generate meaning, the plot has to follow a cause-and-effect logic.  Because of this, protagonists must be proactive, so that they can cause certain effects.  This line of thinking should be made familiar to all modern fledgling screenwriters wishing to write in action, adventure, fantasy, crime, drama or romance.  Cause and effect is a great way to move the plot forward and to encourage empathy from the audience.

Poetics is a tiny book of huge significance that should be read by all serious writers of drama.

Rest in peace, Blake Snyder. I know a lot of writers considered you a great teacher.

But I must be objective in this review.

Snyder, like most screenwriting gurus and wanna-be gurus, had nothing new to say. In fact he had a habit of renaming old trade terms, as if that actually counted as something new to say. So petting the dog became saving the cat, and belly of the whale became the whiff of death.  Judging by what he wrote in his manuals, he wasn’t one for writing from the gut; rather, he would write like a businessman.  He even insisted that the break from Act I into Act II should occur on exactly page 25, which completely mystifies me.

While it’s tragic that Snyder died at a comparitively young age, I highly recommend that you keep your distance from this awful book.

If there are two books that young, wide-eyed wanna-be screenwriters should read at all costs, they are Goldman’s Adventures in the Screen Trade and Mamet’s Bambi Vs. Godzilla. Why? Because they’re both so cynical that they will put off anyone who isn’t 100% sure about entering the harsh and often unrewarding world of screenwriting. 

Given that McKee and Truby have both claimed that great screenwriting is more difficult than brain surgery, and given how many components there are in the screenwriting process, this book comes as a breath of fresh air.  Mamet tells us that the process is essentially quite simple: you create conflict and you keep forcing the audience to wonder what is going to happen next.  Simples!

Mamet has a somewhat annoying habit of going on about how hard his mates are (David, you might be right-wing now, but you’re not fourteen anymore. It’s ok to have friends who are not ex-military you know…), but overall this is a refreshingly unique and honest look from inside the world of playwriting, screenwriting and Hollywood itself, as a grimey commercial machine.