Finally. After weeks, months, or maybe even years, your latest screenplay is complete. Keeping to a professional mindset, you commit to ordering feedback. You pay. And you wait. Soon enough, a reader presents their comments to you.
And they’re useless.
The “notes” might be a diatribe against your premise, a loose collection of ideas of how the reader would have done in your place, or nothing more than a recap of the plot. There are many ways feedback can go wrong. Even worse is when the notes do not fall into these traps but are still of little practical use. Identifying the highs and lows of a work doesn’t mean much if those points are not part of some balanced, deeper, structured critique to help you write your next draft.
In recent years, it has become increasingly easy for an aspiring writer to find “feedback” for their material. Writers are presented with an overwhelming number of services offering coverage, notes, reviews, and consultations. This flood of feedback goes beyond screenwriters and script readers. Rotten Tomatoes collects reviews from hundreds of “critics” for every movie, while YouTube hosts thousands of reactions, video essays, and acerbic takedowns. These are mainly personal opinions.
<div id="attachment_31224" style="width: 581px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31224" class=" wp-image-31224" src="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/andre-hunter-5otlbgWJlLs-unsplash.jpg" alt="" width="571" height="381" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/andre-hunter-5otlbgWJlLs-unsplash.jpg 640w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/andre-hunter-5otlbgWJlLs-unsplash-150x100.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/andre-hunter-5otlbgWJlLs-unsplash-250x167.jpg 250w" sizes="(max-width: 571px) 100vw, 571px" />Photo by Andre Hunter</div>
A critique is an informed, professional dissection and analysis of a screenplay&#8217;s strengths and weaknesses, whereas a criticism focuses on the negative aspects of a script with a prescription to improve it. An opinion is a personal view which doesn&#8217;t necessarily address the underlying issues of a script in a substantial way.
&nbsp;
<h3>What Did You Order?</h3>
&nbsp;
While the terms are often used interchangeably, coverage and notes are not the same thing. When you are seeking out quality feedback, understanding these terms is a key first step.
Coverage is a brief analysis of a work’s development potential based on a grid scoring system. It&#8217;s an evaluation of the writer as well as their writing. This form of coverage is the most dependent on context and a studio&#8217;s needs. A studio’s budgetary limitations, its branding, the stylistic preferences of its executives, and the nature of its typical audience are all factors to be considered in coverage. As coverage is meant for industry professionals with little time, it is often kept brief and to the point.
Notes are an in-depth examination of a script. They are designed to help improve a writer’s current draft and, ideally, their overall skillset. If the value of coverage is dependent on context, then the value of notes is dependent on criticism to address the weaknesses.
Feedback can be a few words or a comprehensive script analysis. Unlike notes and coverage which have fairly well-defined formats, feedback format is largely up to the person giving it.
&nbsp;
<h3>What Isn&#8217;t Criticism?</h3>
&nbsp;
With all of these options, it is easier to start by identifying what is not criticism. Once a writer can identify false criticism, they can filter out those comments and begin a lifelong engagement with actionable comments.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a Screenwriting 101 lesson
&nbsp;
A critic does have a responsibility to point out when a writer is doing their work a disservice by deviating from standard norms or including typos and formatting errors. There is a place for such minor issues when they disrupt a read, but they should never comprise the bulk of the notes. If a reader is providing paragraphs of commentary pointing out misspellings and improper margins, then they should consider a career in proofreading and leave the criticism to others.
This also applies to comments on structure. Yes, many industry readers choose to skim or even pass on projects by page 10. If they don’t know what’s going on by that point, they are more likely to move on. And they might not even read the project if it is over 120 pages.
But when it comes to structure, across all genres and all media, there is only one, actual truth: Every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Arbitrarily stating page numbers and turning points can at most help a writer to understand the general shape of an act. For a writer to grow, they need to have an intuitive understanding of a beginning and a resolution. They need to find resolutions within arcs, scenes, and even individual lines as they refine their material.
Declaring, “The inciting incident needs to happen earlier,” does not develop that insight within the writer. It simply tells them to move a plot point up five pages.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a summary
&nbsp;
This should be obvious, but it is unfortunately common for low-level readers to summarize a work within feedback. This is often due to the aforementioned mixing of coverage and notes or they may simply not have anything constructive to say. An executive might want a brief synopsis as a way to review a concept or keep track of their slate. Notes are time-intensive enough without a synopsis. Loglines are a worthy compromise if they aren&#8217;t already supplied by the writer.
This is not to say that a synopsis is not valuable. A tight, one-page summary can reveal which plot beats the reader felt defined the narrative. It defines the reader&#8217;s understanding of the story.
Scenes and characters not included in a summary may be extraneous. As such, if a synopsis is offered as a supplement to criticism, it is worth considering.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a reaction
&nbsp;
The phrases “I liked this,” and “I liked that,” are reactions. They are expressing the positive or negative reaction of the reader, but not making an argument for why that reaction occurred. Identifying how the writer was able to generate that reaction is a form of criticism.
<div id="attachment_31225" style="width: 507px" class="wp-caption alignright"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31225" class=" wp-image-31225" src="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280-1024x768.jpg" alt="" width="497" height="373" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280-1024x768.jpg 1024w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280-150x113.jpg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280-250x188.jpg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280-768x576.jpg 768w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/crying-613389_1280.jpg 1280w" sizes="(max-width: 497px) 100vw, 497px" />Photo by Amanda Catherine</div>
Many notes are presented as one section of positives followed by one section of negatives. Words offering encouragement and ways to improve are nice, but a writer should be looking for some form of connective tissue between those two sections. If a reader liked the characters but did not like the plot, then the actionable criticism will be identifying how the latter is not synergizing with the former.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a literary analysis
&nbsp;
Many young industry professionals start out by giving feedback. Fresh out of college, they have had at least four years of literary analysis drilled into their minds. This is a tough mindset to break free from. Young readers want to know what your script means. And if they don’t like what they think the story means, they might hold it against the script.
There is a cruel side to criticism. Sometimes, a critic is presented with a work that is genuinely morally objectionable or outright illegal. Often thematic issues are less extreme. The work is unnecessarily bleak or cynical, for instance. A critic must accept the worldview of the material and proceed as a professional.
Any discussion of a work’s thematic implications should thus only be done when it is necessary for the actual criticism. Does this theme help the tone? Is it being expressed too heavily in the dialogue? Are the characters creating the implications of a theme or is the theme causing the characters to act in a manner contradictory to their internal desires?
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a market analysis
&nbsp;
There are certain readers out there who watch hundreds of movies within a year. Their minds are encyclopedias of film and they want writers to know it. When presented with a project, readers can offer dozens of film comparisons, along with plenty of associated demographic targets, awards, and box office data. That doesn’t make them critics. It makes them ideal candidates for film trivia contests.
Useful comparisons get to the difference between an element and a structure. It is easy to compare projects with similar elements. Sarcastic leads, twist endings, non-linear timelines, or a style of dialogue are just a few random elements a reader might grab onto before they start belting out a list of films that come to mind.
A collection of characters, a series of beats leading to an ending, and the role dialogue plays within a story are larger and more particular structures. Those are more difficult to identify between works. If a critic can identify such a structure in the examined work and an existing film, then they can provide the writer with a valuable reference moving forward in terms of how they might approach producers.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not rewriting
&nbsp;
Most readers are aspiring writers. That can be a strength if the reader uses that experience to hold the role of the writer as sacred. Notes should not be one-sided brainstorming sessions where the reader assumes the role of the writer and details what they would do if it were their project.
The first step to any critique is to determine and honor the material’s identity. What defines the project, both in terms of its concept, its uniqueness, and its fundamental strengths? Once a reader has pinpointed those elements, they can use that as a foundation to provide criticism and potential fixes such as combining a group of characters with similar dramatic functions.
&nbsp;
Criticism is not a chance to complain about the film industry
&nbsp;
Screenwriters aren&#8217;t the recipients of your frustrations. They don&#8217;t need to know how long you&#8217;ve been struggling to break into the industry. They don&#8217;t need to know you&#8217;re working as a reader to pay your bills until the industry finally realizes your talent and starts paying you for it.
Every writer is aware of the arbitrary nature of the industry and its propensity to congregate around established IP and writers. All screenwriters want to know is how they can get their scripts into a good enough shape to circulate.
And with that, we can finally discuss what actual criticism is and how a writer can use it to grow.
&nbsp;
<h3>What Is Criticism?</h3>
&nbsp;
Put simply, criticism is the process of identifying the craft within art. A critic identifies a work’s individual elements, argues how they are interrelated, and provides a subjective opinion of how well they are coordinated. Most importantly, good criticism should provide corrective strategies for the writer.
When a reader says that something does or does not work, they should make it clear as to why. This is where the short-term and long-term implications of feedback come in. If a writer is told that a weak character isn’t compelling, they might simply cut them out of the next draft. They haven’t grown as a writer. They’ve just erased a prior mistake. But if a reader explains why a character doesn’t work in the context of the narrative’s overall identity and execution, a writer can gain a better understanding of their own craft. From there, they can grow.
&nbsp;
<h3>Criticism Can Still Be Bad</h3>
&nbsp;
Sometimes, a critic just doesn’t get a project. They might misunderstand what the work’s “identity” or purpose truly was. Their own background and biases might make them incapable of fully appreciating the circumstances and intention of the narrative. Or they might simply have not had anything insightful to say.
Critics are not saints. They can have bad days. Their tone might be acerbic. A good point might be awkwardly or cryptically phrased. These are all parts of the critic’s own craft. Training and experience matter.
When a writer receives “bad” notes, they might worry their reaction is simply that of a jilted artist. But notes should be held to a high standard. The identification and celebration of <a href="https://www.networkisa.org/scriptnotes">genuine criticism</a> is something that writers and critics deserve.

How Seriously Should You Take Criticism Of Your Screenplay?

Even seasoned screenwriters can struggle when venturing into comedy for the first time. Unlike drama, comedy has additional structures and considerations that have to be understood for the work to succeed. Humor is what makes you laugh, while comedy must be linked to a situation, context or character.
Here are some common missteps writers make when dipping their toes into the genre:
&nbsp;
<h3>1) The Comedy Isn&#8217;t Connected To The Characters</h3>
&nbsp;
In standup comedy, a laugh comes from the combined impact of a punchline’s words, its delivery, and the personality of the person holding the microphone. The same joke that is hilarious when told by Sam Kinison might fall flat if it were delivered by Jerry Seinfeld. That’s not because one is better than the other, but because each comedian is able to tell different jokes based on their personality and circumstances.
In a comedy screenplay, different characters can deliver different beats of humor. Ghostbusters works in part because Peter Venkman, Ray Stantz, and Dana Barrett provide distinct approaches to both comedy and science fiction. Venkman is a deadpan charlatan, Stantz is a manic believer, and Barrett is a serious person in what is to her a serious situation.
<div id="attachment_30588" style="width: 643px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-30588" class=" wp-image-30588" src="https://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu.jpeg" alt="Creative Screenwriting Magazine" width="633" height="356" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu.jpeg 608w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-150x84.jpeg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-250x141.jpeg 250w" sizes="(max-width: 633px) 100vw, 633px" />Cast Of Ghostbusters (1984)</div>
If Venkman had thought of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, it would have been a random occurrence that was mildly humorous at best. It’s funny when Stantz does it because we inherently understand that this is coming from his personality.
For the same reason, we would not laugh as much at Stantz observing, “Well, she’s a dog,” because that would not be motivated by an underlying cynicism regarding the situation. In addition, if Barrett had not been portrayed in such a serious manner, then a delivery of that line from either character would be lacking because it would not be subverting an established dramatic thread.
&nbsp;
<h3>2) A Lack Of Comedic Structure</h3>
&nbsp;
A punchline is not a joke. Neither is a setup. A joke is both a setup and a payoff. The punchline completes the joke so it cannot be delivered at the start of a gag. Similarly, a list of jokes is not a standup set. A set requires that the jokes to build off, call back, and subvert one another.
A screenplay can have something outrageous be said or done four times on every page and still not be funny. This is because the various gags are disconnected.
A man standing in line to rent a car is not inherently funny. A woman behind the counter giggling on the phone is not particularly amusing either. Yet both of these images elicit laughter in Planes, Trains &amp; Automobiles because they are part of a broader comedic structure.
The image of Neal Page flailing his arms in a parking lot raises the energy of a sequence. His standing in line takes that momentum and arrests it. From there, Neal is at the mercy of the rental clerk, takes control through a litany of profanities, and then is himself usurped by her final line. Each shift in momentum or dominance brings a laugh. The biggest comes at the end, when all the energy of the scene is paid off at the same time that Neal experiences a total loss.
None of these beats are interchangeable in terms of plot or humor. They are tightly integrated, building off one another until they reach a climax.
<div id="attachment_30589" style="width: 633px" class="wp-caption alignright"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-30589" class=" wp-image-30589" src="https://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2-1024x427.jpeg" alt="Creative Screenwriting Magazine" width="623" height="260" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2-1024x427.jpeg 1024w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2-150x63.jpeg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2-250x104.jpeg 250w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2-768x320.jpeg 768w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-2.jpeg 1200w" sizes="(max-width: 623px) 100vw, 623px" />Sally Albright (Meg Ryan) and Harry Burns (Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally</div>
A beat of humor should be irreplaceable and immovable at all stages and levels of a comedy narrative. Just as Darth Vader cannot reveal his identity to Luke Skywalker ten minutes into The Empire Strikes Back, Sally cannot moan over a diner sandwich in the opening scene of When Harry Met Sally.
A comedy writer should be able to justify why a given joke must occur at a specific point.
&nbsp;
<h3>3) Missing Punchlines</h3>
&nbsp;
This may seem obvious, but a comedy screenplay needs specific beats of humor. It should not be hard to point to a spot in a page and say, “This is where they laugh.”
A manic tone is not inherently funny. Absurd circumstances are little more than noise until a character can pay off that energy. Consider any failed improv sketch. On paper, the premise might be humorous enough, but the audience is silent.
In Galaxy Quest, Jason Nesmith and Gwen DeMarco running through an increasingly nonsensical and dangerous system elevates the action, but not the humor. That latter element comes when Gwen, fed up at the sight of the next obstacle, declares, “Oh, screw that!” If one takes out that specific line and relies only on the characters becoming generally upset over the course of the scene, then the audience never has a point to laugh.
<div id="attachment_30590" style="width: 691px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-30590" class=" wp-image-30590" src="https://creativescreenwriting.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-3.jpeg" alt="Creative Screenwriting Magazine" width="681" height="366" srcset="https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-3.jpeg 474w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-3-150x81.jpeg 150w, https://www.creativescreenwriting.com/cswcms/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/iu-3-250x134.jpeg 250w" sizes="(max-width: 681px) 100vw, 681px" />Agent K (Tommy Lee Jones) in Men In Black</div>
This issue is particularly important for action comedies. When the action rises, that energy should be feeding into the comedy. That integration is what elevates Men In Black. As Agent K drives through New York City in a rocket-powered car, the scene quickly delivers one gag after the next. A weaker film would stop telling jokes and rely on the thrill of the action alone.
&nbsp;
<h3>4) No Shifting</h3>
&nbsp;
In any screenplay, a character’s internal tension should be constantly rising and falling. If the energy of a scene is increasingly manic, that should have a positive or negative impact on the characters involved.
If your characters are not naturally breaking, paying off the energy of a scene and delivering reactions like Gwen, then they may be too internally static. Similarly, if your lead is constantly gawking and falling over themselves, then they aren’t grounded enough arrest a scene and give it structure.
Imagine that two witty characters walk into a room. They deliver sarcastic quips at one another. Then the scene ends. And nobody laughs.
The issue is that the banter lacked any push or pull. The characters did not irritate the internal conflicts of one another. There was no shift in dominance. In a normal screenplay, this would be enough to result in a pass during a development read. With a comedy screenplay, this script gets a pass and the reader labels the writer as “unfunny”.
For good banter, look at Seinfeld. During the opening scene of “The Chinese Restaurant”, George kicks things off by eagerly commenting on garbage men. Jerry takes setup, seizes dominance in the scene, and launches into a piece about cops and garbage men. Then, Elaine, immune to Jerry’s wit, serves as a way to wrap up his ramblings. The joke works because the characters pass the comedic baton to each other.
On the surface, it seems like aimless banter from sarcastic figures. In actuality, these three characters are constantly trading dominance as a way to give structure to the humor.

How Seriously Should You Take Criticism Of Your Screenplay?

4 Common Comedy Missteps

Subscribe for Updates