Writer Interview: Lauren Barbato

Writer Lauren Barbato has an interesting technique to further develop and explore her characters; she often writes accompanying prose to her screenplays. I interviewed Lauren about her writing process and her screenplay I Do, You Don't. There's a scene from the script after the interview, and be sure to scroll down to the previous blog post to read an additional scene and the prose that Lauren wrote with it. 

Q: How did the story evolve through multiple drafts? What were major and minor changes?

Lauren Barbato: The story evolved the more Elle continued to evolve. Early on, I would refer to it shorthand as “Mike and Elle.” Draft after draft, it eventually just became “Elle.” The script morphed from a romance drama to a coming-of-age story, though since Elle is 28, I guess it's either a late coming-of-age or early mid-life crisis. Anyway, it wasn’t until I performed open-heart surgery on Elle to discover why and how her self-destructive nature materialized that I knew what othe story was—and it was about her and her father. The throughline of the story switched to Elle and Romeo coming to terms with the dissatisfaction they feel not only toward each other, but also toward how their own lives turned out. As Elle and Romeo’s relationship strengthened throughout the drafts, Mike became more of a "mess" the less and less he became a conventional romantic interest. Elle and Mike are both stuck in self-created ruts; while Elle is desperately trying to claw her way out, Mike is just desperate. Elle was always her own antagonist, but Mike manifested into an extension of Elle’s self-destruction. He ends up regressing—and honestly, it was a satisfying exchange of tragedies.A minor change in the story was Elle’s estranged brother, John. In the original draft, he’s the character who’s never there—just talked about. John does physically make an appearance now—twice. Because of the Elle and Romeo’s growth, John needed to come in. 

Q: How does writing prose help you further develop the plot and characters? At what stage do you write the prose?

LB: It changes from script to script. Here, the prose was written at the beginning of the process, almost as sort of a “relationship bio” for Elle and Mike. When I’m dealing with a couple, it’s sometimes more important for me to write a bio of their relationship than individual character bios. The relationship becomes a third character, taking on quirks of its own. There’s not only the timeline aspect to it, but how the relationship moves, functions, strengthens, weakens, and so on. Looking back on the prose, it takes place later in their lives—Mike’s already a married man—so it almost plays like a premonition. I think by writing that out in the prose, it forced me to place a definition on their relationship. Then when writing the script, it was easier for Elle to redefine it. The prose here also helped me find the mood and tone, which I think turned out to be a brooding sort of nostalgia. interjected at times with fleeting attraction. 

Q: Although the scene is similar, the dialogue in the prose is different from the script scene. Did the screenplay ever contain the dialogue that's in the prose, or was it always separate?

LB: It was always separate. I don’t think I ever wrote any of the dialogue into prose first, although I’ve done that for other scripts. Since this script is so dialogue-driven, once I had an understanding of the emotions for the scene, I dove in headfirst and let the characters dictate where I needed to go. 

Q: How did you come up with the story? What inspired you to write it?

LB: So many things. Both the genesis of Elle and the loose script structure resulted as sort of a retaliation against being boxed in by film school and Hollywood. At the time, I wasn’t liking what I was producing. I was fighting to fit into those process vs. product confines, so much so that I forgot why I wrote in the first place. “I Do, You Don’t” was a way for me to rediscover my voice. I wanted to go back to those small, low-concept stories that I used to tell, so it challenged me to see if I could create a low-concept that sustains itself through character and emotion alone. Elle’s profession as a photographer and her flighty creative lifestyle extended from those feelings. As an artist in any medium these days, you’re teetering the line between art and commercialism, and the more someone like Elle dips into the commercial aspect, the larger the existential crisis. The basis for Elle and her father came out of the on-and-off relationship I have with my own father. A lot of “I Do, You Don’t” was coming to terms with my father’s mortality. Mike came from those strange, undefinable sexual and romantic connections with people that you prolong when you’re too afraid to question it, because it would mean letting them go. I needed to let them go. I also had an excruciating nursing home experience with my grandmother when I was a teenager, and I’ll never forget that feeling—facing the inevitable, for both the resident and the family. It’s an unnerving, fragile time. The clock is ticking, but very slowly. Time is running out but it’s not—you don’t know if it’s two days or two months. I don’t know why I chose to put myself through that again, but something in me compelled me to capture that state of mind.

Q: In both excerpts -- the scene between Elle and her father, and the scene between Elle and Mike -- there is obvious tension. Was the tone difficult to get right? Which scene was more challenging to write?

LB: They were both very difficult, but the Elle-Romeo scenes were tougher. This one was perhaps the toughest because it’s the first interaction between Elle and Romeo, so there was a ton of exposition I had to relay. It also had to be a marker for Elle’s pain, but I had to be very meticulous with the emotions and zingers. I couldn’t just throw in the line, “You disappoint me” (which I tried) for fear of it being too harsh or forced. The zingers had to be sparse and they had to be motivated. It required give and take, feeling out when they should push each other’s buttons and when to scale it back so they have some breathing room. It helps, too, if I think of scenes as having a three-act structure of their own. The tension has to be there from the beginning, but it has to swell before it breaks. I had an advantage with working with characters who knew each other very well, so that made the dialogue flow. It’s at once effortless and trying—particularly with Elle and Mike—to have a conversation with these characters. Effortless because on some basic, fundamental level they understand each other; trying because everyone had such a strong backstory and therefore, a lot to say. Often, it was a lot harder to get them to quiet down.

Q: Did you have any plot lines or characters that you liked but ultimately chose to remove?

LB: Throughout the drafts, I flirted with various peripheral characters, including a former best friend to Elle and a gay nurse at the nursing home. I liked the gay nurse because his bond with Romeo exemplified a change in Romeo’s character and and indication that there was hope for Romeo and John. In the end, additional characters seemed to unnecessarily complicate things, so I fleshed out the main players and they were enough to sustain the 110 pages.

Q: Are there any films that you feel are similar to "I Do, You Don't"?

LB: “Rachel Getting Married”  definitely helped jump start my creativity at the time. I admired “Rachel” for its boldness, the way it was reminiscent of Robert Altman films. I grew up watching Altman films, so I always had an affinity for that kind of organic cinema that unfolds ignoring everything Robert McKee says at his screenwriting seminars. So structurally, “Rachel” is similar in that “I Do, You Don’t” takes place over 4-5 days.

Q: What are some of your favorite screenplays?

LB: “Manhattan” is one of my favorites because Woody Allen took a low-concept story about terribly unlikeable people and made it terribly engaging (and real). “Before Sunset” is a script I wish I wrote, but my dad still wishes I made it big with “Little Miss Sunshine.” As for 2011 films, I just saw “Beginners” and fell in love. And I can’t really say I like Mike Leigh’s screenplays since he doesn’t technically write a script until after the film is finished, but I’m constantly intrigued by his kooky process and the way he and his actors create these stories from improvisation.

Writer Bio: Lauren Barbato published her first short story in a national children's magazine at the age of 10, and since then has devoted her life to storytelling. A recent graduate of USC's School of Cinematic Arts with a BFA in Writing for Screen and Television, she has received awards for both her screenwriting and journalism work at the Daily Trojan, where she served as Lifestyle Editor and columnist. As a journalist, Lauren has written and worked for MovieMaker Magazine, The Hollywood Reporter, FILTER Magazine and Campus Circle. Currently, she contributes to Under the Radar and various online sites, including Patch.com, Examiner.com and Yahoo, and is working on transforming "I Do, You Don't" from script to screen. Although she calls Los Angeles home (for now), she remains a proud, Springsteen-loving Jersey girl at heart.

Excerpt from "I Do, You Don't"

Please note: Formatting that looks slightly "off", mainly how the dialogue is centered, is due to limitations of the blog format, not Lauren's original screenplay.

INT. ROMEO’S ROOM - NURSING HOME - DAY

Elle lingers in the DOORWAY, taking in the room:

Hospital bed and wheelchair, paisley patterned arm chairs, an armoire and dresser, and an enormous flat screen television. As for decorations, a crucifix hangs on one wall; a portrait of Ronald Reagan hangs on another.

All of this is for ROMEO (70), a strong man now beaten down by illness. He rests in the bed, remote in hand. Tubes in his nose lead to an oxygen tank.

Elle clears her throat. Romeo mutes the TV.

ROMEO

What is this — standing room only?

Elle eyes the oxygen tank.

ROMEO (CONT'D)

I’m not going to explode, you know.

ELLE

Hey, Daddy.

She gently wraps her arms around Romeo. A brief hug.

ROMEO

You look skinny.

ELLE

I’ve been dieting.

ROMEO

You’re smoking again.

ELLE

Cocaine, actually.

ROMEO

That’s not too far off with you.

ELLE

(ignoring him)

TV’s impressive.

ROMEO

Installed the surround sound  

myself.

ELLE

Looks like you got the works.

ROMEO

Your mother told me you quit the

magazine.

ELLE

For Christ's sake, I just walked

in. Can’t we talk about the weather

or something?

Romeo glances out the window.

ROMEO

It’s cloudy out.

ELLE

Chillier than usual.

ROMEO

Why’d you quit?

Elle scopes out the room, looking for a way out — this isn’t going to be easy.

ELLE

I didn’t believe in what they stood

for.

ROMEO

You don’t have to believe it,

Gabrielle. You just gotta do it.

ELLE

Don’t they say you gotta love what

you do so it’s not a chore?

ROMEO

They don’t say that. You want to

know who says that?

ELLE

Happy people?

ROMEO

Idiots.

ELLE

Then I’m an idiot.

ROMEO

Did you have another job lined up?

ELLE

No, not really.

ROMEO

Do you have one now?

ELLE

No, not really.

ROMEO

Then you’re an idiot.

Elle plops down in an armchair.

ELLE
You know, it’s only been like,
three months.

ROMEO
Four months.

ELLE
Has it been four?

ROMEO
Twenty-eight years old and you
still can’t take care of yourself.

ELLE
Hey, I made it cross-country OK.

ROMEO
Did you pay your rent before you
left?

ELLE
Yes, I paid my rent.

Elle gets up from the armchair, pacing again.

ELLE
OK, no. Fuck.

ROMEO
I’m losing my patience with you,
Gabrielle.

ELLE
Well, it’s a good thing you don’t
have much time left.

Romeo breaks into a coughing fit — painful, uncontrollable. Elle moves forward, but he waves her away as he reaches for his oxygen mask.

ROMEO

Do me a favor and go back to

California.

ELLE
Gladly.

Elle stomps out of the room, passing Christine in the
DOORWAY, who narrows her eyes at Romeo.

ROMEO
(removing his mask)
She hasn’t changed.

© Lauren Barbato