Mightier than the pen…

Kevin Borras is a recent convert to Final Draft, but he has been quick to discover why this scriptwriting software package has become the Hollywood industry standard.
Article first published: Winter 2004
You can’t really imagine a scenario in which you visit the dentist only to find he doesn’t have one of those high-pitched whirring drills with which to bore a tiny but excruciating hole into your troublesome tooth. And neither is it easy to envisage a couple of hours spent browsing through years-old copies of Top Gear and Max Power in the waiting room of your local tyre specialist only to be told that they couldn’t replace your punctured ‘boot’ because they didn’t have that hyrdaulic nut-removing thing that sounds, well, like a dentist’s drill.

In much the same way, only far more relevant, it’s virtually impossible to see how a scriptwriter could even think of creating and submitting a manuscript without being in possession of Final Draft 7, the latest version of the peerless professional scriptwriting software package.

You only have to read the testimonials on the box to know that you’re about to open something that contains greatness. No “I really like it” from Mrs S of Halifax, West Yorkshire or “This is just what I’ve been looking for” from Mr Z of Blue Earth, Minnesota. Scarcely contained delight from the likes of Alan Ball (the American Beauty and Six Feet Under Alan Ball, not the ex-footballer Alan Ball or even the showjumping course designer Alan Ball), The Simpsons’ James L Brooks and multiple Oscar winners Tom Hanks and Anthony Minghella give you some idea that what you are about to install is something that you’ll be using for as long as you write scripts. To be more succinct, Final Draft 7 is as important to the scriptwriter as the very idea that you are attempting to give life to.

I hate installing software (although how much of this is connected to the fact that I write on a 2001 iMac is open to question, I admit). I open the packaging and immediately my brain attempts to assign some mathematical formula involving the thickness of the instruction manual divided by the usefulness of the software itself. And probably multiplied by how much it costs. If I get as far as attempting to read the booklet I’m often amazed at how someone who makes his living out of writing in English can find something written in the same language so thoroughly incomprehensible. For anyone who suffers from that same affliction, fear not. Final Draft 7 is an absolute sinch to install, even easier to register and, essentially, a joy to use, minus a couple of small quibbles (see box). And the Getting Started manual is only 96 pages long.

Facilities

Although it’s been around for some time, the very existence of Final Draft in any of its previous incarnations had escaped my attention until Version 6’s release a couple of years ago. I’d been having a bit of trouble with the software package I’d been using and had drawn up a list of attributes that my perfect scriptwriting software should have. I read the list to my writing partner, John.

“You mean you want Final Draft then?” he said.

“It can do all that, can it?”

“What the hell have you been using, WordStar?”

I wanted a package that would allow me to write my script in a format that wouldn’t immediately make a script editor take their glasses off, hold my work at a number of different distances, put it back in the envelope and toss it onto the “Couldn’t make head nor tail of who was saying what” pile. Final Draft allows you to do exactly that. You can present your script in the same format as the writers of Frasier or The Simpsons, for example.

This is not a pointless exercise in aesthetics either. By day I’m a magazine editor. I receive a lot of unsolicited articles and I’m probably guilty of throwing away dozens of superbly researched and written pieces that could have revolutionised my industry just because they look so goddamn awful. Horribly presented, peppered with every conceivable way of using paragraph breaks, hand-written, type-written on what looks like parchment, you name it, I’ve gawped at it in amazement, shown my colleagues, had a good laugh and then taken it home as scrap paper for my children to scribble on. My principle being “if you can’t be bothered to take the time to make it readable, I can’t be bothered to take the time to read it.” Harsh, but fair.

This is exactly what a script editor will think if they receive something that doesn’t look like a script. There’s no guarantee that they’ll read your work because it’s been written using Final Draft, but you can pretty much guarantee that they won’t if it hasn’t. By giving you the option to choose which version of English you want to write in (I guess it’s only a matter of time before the English Chav option is included), Final Draft completely removes the fun element of ranting and raving at packages such as Microsoft Word. I never have to use my standard riposte when my work is littered with green and red underscores, as if it’s being marked by a remarkably pedantic teacher with a drink problem, namely: “Bill Gates can’t tell me how to spell colour – there’s a bloody ‘u’ in it!” Not only does it allow you to present a professional-looking script, but also it removes some of the stress of writing it.

Tom Hanks’ testimonial (the only thing missing from it is a photo of him clutching an Academy Award, holding back tears) is typically gushing, but it makes a very salient point. “Final Draft makes it possible to simply imagine the movie in script form,” he enthuses. It does more than that. It can give voice to your characters. Literally. At any point in your script’s life you can assign each character a voice and Final Draft will read your script to you. It’s amazing what that shows up. Dialogue that you thought read really well can often sound stilted or clunky when it’s read to you by a Final Draft ‘person’ and vice versa. Reading all the characters yourself is rather like proofreading your own copy. You know that you meant to write ‘beast’, but no matter how many times you read it you fail to notice that you included an ‘r’. The Final Draft voice options are far more than audible proofreaders, but even if that’s all you use them for, it’s an invaluable tool. Once you’ve chosen a voice for your characters, your script really does come to life. Install the Out4Life software that comes with Version 7, make sure your speakers are turned up, and that’s pretty much it. You can ‘audition’ the ‘actors’ as they introduce themselves (“Hello, I’m Man One”), and being able to preview the voices means you don’t have to keep assigning those you don’t like and then changing them. 10 original voices can be pre-edited using the on-screen pop-up slide controls, and by adjusting the voices’ pitch and speed you can create enough different characters to script an episode of Dream Team.

All the things called ‘Assistant’ do actually help you. The tutorials really do teach you things. And the macros. I love the macros. The irritation of writing the name of a character 428 times, or keying “CUT TO” more times than you ever thought possible in one day, may be nothing compared to the irritation of not getting your script read, but enter their name into the macro program, and you only have to type in the first letter and ENTER and FD7 does it for you. Even if it transpires that you have six characters whose names begin with C. Final Draft does everything except come up with the ideas and actually write the script for you. I suppose we’ll have to wait for Version 23 for that.

New in version 7

For anyone who uses any of Final Draft’s previous six versions I really am preaching to the long-since converted, but to wrap this up for you, it’s a bit like this. Imagine that you own the 2002 Porsche Carrera GT and you can afford to buy the 2004 Porsche Carrera GT. It would be rude not to.

Everything that you liked about it before is even better now. For example, the old Scene Navigator feature has been expanded to include the ability to write summaries or notes on the ‘back’ of Final Draft Index Cards, the scriptwriting version of having 0.4 seconds knocked off the 0–60 time. And at £149.99 for the possible difference between getting your script thrown in the bin without it being read and having your beautifully presented script read by the most influential script editor in the industry, you’d be daft not to.

Kevin Borras

Kevin Borras is a journalist and former stand-up comedian who now combines his day job of editing an award-winning business-to-business magazine with writing comedy. He is currently working on a sitcom, a sketch show and a series of short films with his writing partner John Hill.