Reader Question: What about using a flashback / flashforward as prologue?
Reader question via comments from Neil:
Reader question via comments from Neil:
I wondered what your take was on the use of the prologue at the moment? What I mean by that is literally opening with a ‘flashback’ of our characters (but not a flashback in the strictest sense because there’s nowhere to flashback FROM).
Not with a voiceover or Star Wars-esque super, but simply an opening, then the next scene might have a “six years later” super and we’re off into our story.
Examples I can think of are X-Men, Terminator (albeit a flashforward), Batman Begins(?), Blade, Underworld Evolution etc.
I can see the pros of using them — they enable you to get across much needed exposition without forced dialogue later on. However, there’s naturally a risk of being disconnected from the characters when we see them later on (the audience might be annoyed — “what went on in those 6 years?!”) or they might simply ask “what was the point?”
Then there’s this problem in the spec market — the old tale that so many scripts open with them and do them badly (much like the flashback) that it’s a big no-no now. But the reader might not know straight away that you’re in a time before your main story with a prologue — unless your slugline reads INT. HOUSE — NIGHT (FLASHBACK).
I just wondered what you make of it nowadays as compared to maybe throwing that scene in later on as a flashback when the reader is already settled into the story and already likes the script (the idea being that a flashback at this point won’t change their mind).
Hope that makes sense! It does to me but might not to anyone else!
There seem to be two questions here: (1) How to open a script with a flashback or flashforward scene when the time-frame of the main story has yet to be established? (2) Is this something that is acceptable per current script reader sensibilities?
Per the first question, here is how The Usual Suspects, written by Christopher McQuarrie, handles its opening which is a flashforward.
BLACKA lonely sound of a buoy bell in the distance. Water
slapping against a smooth, flat surface in rhythm. The
creaking of wood.Off in the very far distance, one can make out the sound of
sirens.SUDDENLY, a single match ignites and invades the darkness. It
quivers for a moment. A dimly lit hand brings the rest of the
pack to the match. A plume of yellow-white flame flares and
illuminates the battered face of DEAN KEATON, age forty. His
salty-gray hair is wet and matted. His face drips with water
or sweat. A large cut runs the length of his face from the
corner of his eye to his chin. It bleeds freely. An un-lit
cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth.In the half-light we can make out that he is on the deck of a
large boat. A yacht, perhaps, or a small freighter. He sits
with his back against the front bulkhead of the wheel house.
His legs are twisted at odd, almost impossible angles. He
looks down.A thin trail of liquid runs past his feet and off into the
darkness. Keaton lights the cigarette on the burning pack of
matches before throwing them into the liquid.The liquid IGNITES with a poof.The flame runs up the stream, gaining in speed and intensity.
It begins to ripple and rumble as it runs down the deck
towards the stern. EXT. BOAT - NIGHT - STERN A stack of oil drums rests on the stern. They are stacked on
a palette with ropes at each corner that attach it to a huge
crane on the dock. One of the barrels has been punctured at
it's base. Gasoline trickles freely from the hole.The flame is racing now towards the barrels. Keaton smiles
weakly to himself.The flame is within a few yards of the barrels when another
stream of liquid splashes onto the gas. The flame fizzles out
pitifully with a hiss.Two feet straddle the flame. A stream of urine flows onto the
deck from between them.The sound of a fly zipping. Follow the feet as they move over
to where Keaton rests at the wheel house.CRANE UP to the waist of the unknown man. He pulls a pack of
cigarettes out of one pocket and a strange antique lighter
from the other. It is gold, with a clasp that folds down over
the flint. The man flicks up the clasp with his thumb and
strikes it with his index finger. It is a fluid motion,
somewhat showy.Keaton looks up at the man. A look of realization crosses his
face. It is followed by frustration, anger, and finally
resignation. VOICE (O.S.)
How are you, Keaton? KEATON
I'd have to say my spine was broken,
Keyser.He spits the name out like it was poison.The man puts the lighter back in his pocket and reaches under
his jacket. He produces a stainless .38 revolver. VOICE (O.S.)
Ready? KEATON
What time is it?The hand with the gun turns over, turning the gold watch on
its wrist upward.The sound of sirens is closer now. Headed this way. VOICE (O.S.)
Twelve thirty.Keaton grimaces bitterly and nods. He turns his head away and
takes another drag.The hand with the gun waits long enough for Keaton to enjoy
his last drag before pulling the trigger.GUNSHOTThe sound of Keaton's body slumping onto the deck.MOVE OUT ACROSS THE DECK. Below is the stream of gasoline
still flowing freely.The sound of the gasoline igniting. The flame runs in front
of us towards the barrels, finally leaping up in a circle
around the drums, burning the wood of the pallet and licking
the spouting stream as it pours from the hole.MOVE OUT ACROSS THE DOCK, away from the boat.The pier to which the boat is moored is littered with DEAD
BODIES. Twenty or more men have been shot to pieces and lie
scattered everywhere in what can only be the aftermath of a
fierce fire-fight.A BARGE COMES INTO VIEW. On the deck of the barge is a tangle of cables and girders.
The mesh of steel and rubber leaves a dark and open cocoon
beneath its base. MOVE INTO THE DARKNESS.Sirens are close now. Almost here. The sound of fire raging
out of control.SIRENS BLARING. TIRES SQUEALING. CAR DOORS OPENING. FEET
POUNDING THE PAVEMENT.MOVE FURTHER, SLOWER, INTO THE DARKNESSVoices yelling. New light flickering in the surrounding
darkness.SUDDENLY, AN EXPLOSION.Then silence. TOTAL BLACKNESS.We hear the voice of ROGER "VERBAL" KINT, whom we will soon
meet. VERBAL (V.O.)
New York. - six weeks ago. A truck loaded
with stripped gun parts got jacked
outside of Queens. The driver didn't see
anybody, but somebody fucked up. He heard
a voice. Sometimes, that's all you need.BOOMINT. DARK APARTMENT - DAY - NEW YORK - SIX WEEKS PRIOR TO PRESENT DAYThe black explodes with the opening of a door into a dark
room. Outside, the hall is filled with blinding white light.
Shadows in the shapes of men flood into the room. We can make
out men in hoods with flashlights. They are laden with
weapons. VOICES
POLICE. SEARCH WARRANT. DON'T MOVE.
Here is the scene from the movie:
McQuarrie starts with a ‘cold opening, and the reader experiences the scene as the present, not learning it’s a flashforward until the next scene, the time-frame indicated with a simple reference in the primary slugline: SIX WEEKS PRIOR TO PRESENT DAY.
The benefit of the flashforward is two-fold: (1) We are thrust immediately into the plot. (2) The events of the flashforward create a mystery which will stay with us throughout the rest of the story: What happened to create the dire circumstances in which Keaton finds himself?
Re flashbacks, as noted with Batman Begins, screenplay by David S. Goyer, the script has an opening sequence that starts in the past, introducing Bruce Wayne as a child, then cuts to the present where we see Bruce Wayne as an adult, then cross cuts between the present and Wayne’s ‘memory’ of his youth. Picking up on P.2 where Young Bruce has fallen down an old well on the Wayne estate:
INT. OLD WELL — CONTINUOUS
Young Bruce, in shock, groans. He hears SQUEALING- freezes, PEERING into the DARKNESS of an OPENING between rocks…
BATS EXPLODE from the darkness, filling the air. HE SCREAMSCURLS against their flapping, squawking, fluttering BLACKNESS.
A JOLT: OLDER GREEN EYES FLICK OPEN, WAKING… in DARKNESS. Filthy, sweating darkness… and we are in-
INT. BHUTANESE JAIL — MORNING
The eyes belong to a bearded, weathered, young man’s face. BRUCE WAYNE aged 28. An OLD ASIAN MAN sits staring at him.
OLD MAN
A dream?
WAYNE
A nightmare.
OLD MAN
Worse than this?
Their cell is a tin box. Light seeps through gaps in the roof. Shouts ECHO. Wayne shrugs.
After some business in the prison, on P. 6 there is this transition to the flashback:
The door slams shut leaving Wayne in DARKNESS…
INT. BOTTOM OF THE OLD WELL — DAY (WAYNE’S MEMORY)
Silence. Young Bruce lies there, exhausted, weeping softly.
MALE VOICE
Bruce?
Young Bruce looks up: a FIGURE, long coat billowing, is lowered down the shaft… THOMAS WAYNE, Young Bruce’s father.
Goyer begins the story in the past and only lets the reader grasp that fact when the action cuts to the present with Wayne in prison. Unlike McQuarrie, who indicates the time-frame in the primary slugline, Goyer conveys that information in describing Wayne — “Bruce Wayne, aged 28.”
Three other interesting things to note: (1) Goyer uses italics to indicate a transition from the past (A JOLT: OLDER GREEN EYES FLICK OPEN, WAKING… in DARKNESS. Filthy, sweating darkness), ‘locating’ the past moment as the older Bruce Wayne’s nightmare. (2) When he transitions the action back to the flashback in the old well, Goyer indicates that in the primary slugline with WAYNE’S MEMORY. (3) To make clear to the reader the difference in years, Goyer refers to “Young Bruce” (past) and “Wayne” (present).
So these two examples, while showing slightly different approaches in conveying an opening scene that is in the future or past, demonstrate how a writer may begin a script in a time other than the story’s present.
Per the second question — “the old tale that so many scripts open with them and do them badly (much like the flashback) that it’s a big no-no now” — my answer would be, if it works, do it. And by “works,” here are some questions to ask yourself:
- Am I using a flashforward or flashback to convey important information or just to be cute?
- Does my flashforward or flashback immediately pull the reader into the story?
- Does my flashforward or flashback create a mystery / important questions which immediately grip the reader’s imagination?
Bottom line: Is beginning my script with a flashforward or flashback the most effective way to start the story?
If your answers to these questions is a resounding ‘yes’ on all fronts, then my advice is to say to hell with what you think script readers may like or not like. Your goal is to write the most entertaining story possible. Period. Just make sure if you use a flashforward or flashback, write it in such a way that it really works.