DIRECTION

Also called action and description, direction consists of passages that describe what is being seen and heard within the shot or scene. It may include introductions and descriptions of characters, description of characters’ actions and demeanor, sounds and sound effects, visual effects and camera direction. In short, direction tells us what’s happening.

Direction is always written in the present tense:

Lydia leaps from the precipice and free-falls down the cliff face, counting seven agonizing seconds before pulling the rip chord. A second later, the yellow canopy blossoms above her.

Not:

Lydia leapt from the precipice and free-fell down the cliff face, counting seven agonizing seconds before pulling the rip chord. A second later, the yellow canopy blossomed above her.

Direction also tends to be written in relatively short, direct sentences designed to paint pictures using the fewest possible words.

Paragraphing in direction

All of the direction beneath a shot heading may be kept together in a single paragraph:

Lydia hits the ground and rolls. She’s immediately jerked back to her feet as the canopy is caught in the wind. She fights to free herself from the canopy. She pulls a knife and slashes at its cords. Something moves in the brush behind her. Lydia cuts herself free and the canopy blows away in the wind. She turns toward the brush, the knife in front of her.

Or it may be broken into several smaller paragraphs:

Lydia hits the ground and rolls. She’s immediately jerked back to her feet as the canopy is caught in the wind.

Lydia fights to free herself from the canopy. She pulls a knife and slashes at its cords.

Something moves in the brush behind her.

Lydia cuts herself free and the canopy blows away in the wind. She turns toward the brush, the knife in front of her.

The advantages of breaking large passages of direction into smaller paragraphs are that it makes the text more readable, increases the reader’s sense of pace and creates white space that helps the page look less dense and imposing. A further important advantage is that skillful and judicious use of paragraphing in direction allows the writer to direct the reader’s visual imagination without resorting to a large number of shot headings. Notice how a sequence of specific visuals can be implied without adding individual shot headings:

Billy unlatches the tackle box and looks inside.

His finger sweep aside a tangle of lures and knotted fishing line to uncover the missing penny.

A look of wonder spreads over Billy’s face.

The disadvantage to this style is that it takes more space, increasing the page count of the script (though not as much as does breaking the scene with additional shot headings). An effective screenwriting style balances these often competing considerations.

Paragraphs of direction are never indented:

Lydia hits the ground and rolls. She’s immediately jerked back to her feet as the canopy is caught in the wind.

Breaking a page in the middle of direction

Never break a page in the middle of a sentence in direction. When breaking direction, always split the page between sentences:

EXT. MOTOCROSS COURSE — DAY

The BIKES ROAR past.

—-page break —-

A cloud of dust fills the air in their wake.

Not:

EXT. MOTOCROSS COURSE — DAY

The BIKES ROAR past. A cloud of dust fills the air in

—-page break —-

their wake.

Capitalization in direction

Standard script format dictates that words in direction are typed in all capital letters if they’re performing one of only three tasks: 1) introducing a speaking character, 2) describing sound effects and offscreen sounds; or 3) describing camera direction.

1MACK HUMPHREYS runs through the door. 2FLAMES ROAR all around him. 3CAMERA PUSHES IN CLOSE ON his terrified face.

Introducing a speaking character

The first time a speaking character appears on screen, the character’s name is typed in all capitals:

Dressed in his full space suit, JOHN GLENN steps out of the launch tower elevator. Launch workers surround Glenn and help him toward the waiting spacecraft.

Note in the example above that the second time Glenn’s name appears, it is not typed in all capitals. Each speaking character’s name should be typed in all capitals once and only once.

Even if a speaking character’s name isn’t a proper name, it still gets capitalized when the character first appears. Subsequently the first letter of the character name gets capitalized every time it appears:

A stunning BALLERINA steps before the stage lights. The Ballerina curtseys and begins to dance.

Many times, a character will be described somewhat generically, as a “woman” or a “firefighter,” before her name appears in direction. As long as the proper name appears fairly quickly after the generic reference, wait and capitalize just the proper name:

A firefighter runs through the door. Her name is LORI HEDDEN. The fire burns hot all around her. She’s terrified.

However, if the firefighter speaks before we know her name, we have no choice but to capitalize the word “firefighter” and then, later, her proper name once we learn it:

A FIREFIGHTER runs through the door.

FIREFIGHTER

Anybody in here?

The fire burns hot all around her. She’s terrified. Her name is LORI HEDDEN.

LORI (FIREFIGHTER)

Anybody?!

Don’t be fooled by a character name that shows up before the character does. Wait to capitalize the name until the character himself appears onscreen:

Launch workers gather around the tower elevator, waiting for John Glenn to emerge. The door slides to the side and GLENN steps out in his full space suit.

If a speaking character first appears in a shot heading, capitalize the next reference within direction:

REVERSE ANGLE — JOHN GLENN

steps off the elevator in his full space suit. Launch workers gather around GLENN.

If a character doesn’t have any lines, don’t capitalize his name. (A rare exception is made for a major character who doesn’t speak but nevertheless has a significant, ongoing role in the story.) Typing a character’s name in all capitals tells production personnel that the character has lines, which has significant ramifications for casting and budget. Any number of nonspeaking characters can be introduced in a paragraph of direction without anything getting capitalized, until we finally get to a speaking character:

Inside the big top, clowns direct the audience to their seats. A midget walks on tiny stilts. A lion tamer works his big cats in a giant cage. Seven Russian acrobats fly through the air. A popcorn vendor hawks his wares. Girls covered in gaudy seguins ride elephants. And in the center ring, the MASTER OF CEREMONIES calls into his microphone:

MASTER OF CEREMONIES

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and
girls —

How to handle the reintroduction of a speaking character who appears at various ages

Sometimes we meet a character at a given age, say 20 years old, and then meet the same character as a 70-year-old. Does the character’s name get capitalized a second time when the 70-year-old version is introduced? The answer depends on whether or not one actor is expected to play both roles. Capitalizing the second introduction implies that a different actor will play the second role. In the movie A Beautiful Mind, actor Russell Crowe plays John Nash at many different ages throughout the character’s life, from a young student arriving at college to an old man receiving a Nobel Prize. Because the same actor plays the character of John Nash at all of those different ages, Nash would properly be introduced and his name typed in all capitals just one time, when the character of the young student first appears on screen. In the movie Big Fish, the main character is played by two actors. Ewan McGregor plays the young man while Albert Finney plays the older man. This character’s name would be introduced and capitalized twice, once for each actor. Often it’s an easy call. We meet a character at ages 7 and 37. No question. Two different actors. Or we encounter a character at ages 25 and 40. Almost certainly the same actor.

For an example of how a character gets re-introduced when played at a second age by a second actor, let’s pretend that A Beautiful Mind contains a flashback to John Nash’s childhood. We’ll see his name capitalized when he’s introduced as a college student, and then when he’s introduced as a child:

An awkward young man makes his way among the brilliant and urbane young mathematicians: JOHN NASH. He’s smarter than all of them and he’s the only one who knows it. As he takes in the faces of the competition —-

FLASHBACK — EXT. WEST VIRGINIA SCHOOLHOUSE — DAY (1935)

An awkward little boy steps onto the yard of a ramshackle mountain schoolhouse. It’s YOUNG NASH, age 8. The raw-boned sons of coal miners stare at this odd boy.

YOUNG NASH could just as correctly be called 8-YEAR-OLD NASH, YOUNG JOHN NASH, JOHNNY NASH, or any other name that wouldn’t reasonably get confused with Nash in his adult incarnation.

Describing sound effects and offscreen sounds

The second reason for typing words in all capital letters in direction is because they describe a sound effect or an offscreen sound. Three basic rules govern capitalization for sound effects and offscreen sounds:

  1. Type all sounds that originate offscreen in all capital letters. This includes everything from a ticking clock to a woman’s scream to a nuclear explosion, no exceptions.

    From somewhere O.S. comes the sound of a WOMAN’S SCREAM.

    FOOTSTEPS can be heard in the room overhead.

    The MOAN of a CAT somewhere in the shadows keeps Marc awake.

    Linda whirls toward a KNOCK at her bedroom door.

    Behind the curtain, CHILDREN are LAUGHING.

  2. Type all sound effects that originate onscreen in all capital letters. A sound effect, for purposes of this rule, is any natural, artificial or mechanical sound not produced live in front of the camera by an actor. This includes ticking clocks and nuclear explosions but not a woman’s scream, so long as it originates onscreen in the lungs of a living, breathing actor.

    Maverick quick—draws his SIX—SHOOTER and FIRES.

    The laughing, screaming, shouting, giggling children knock over the VASE, which SHATTERS on the bricks.

    MUSIC PLAYS ON the old transistor RADIO.

    Because they are sound effects, CAPITALIZE the following:

    • Guns firing

    • Bombs, grenades and fireworks exploding

    • Bullets pinging and ricocheting

    • Engines revving, idling, purring, roaring or dying

    • Brakes grinding

    • Tires squealing

    • Horns honking

    • Vehicles crashing

    • Babies crying, burping or wailing (an effect because babies don’t perform on cue)

    • Animals growling, birds chirping (see “babies” above)

    • Glass breaking or shattering

    • Lumber splintering

    • Radios, TVs, recorders, boom boxes, CD players and MP3 players playing

    • Telephones and doorbells ringing

    • Teletypes chattering

    • Robots and computers beeping or clicking

    • Teapots whistling

    • Floors creaking

    • Hinges squeaking

    • Water dripping, splashing, running, roaring or rushing

    • Waves crashing

    • Lightning cracking and thunder rumbling

    • Wind gusting, whistling or howling

    • Incorporeal beings speaking or moaning

    • Any sound that echoes, reverberates or fades away

    Because they are natural sounds made live by actors, DON’T CAPITALIZE the following:

    • Onscreen characters laughing, talking, shouting, screaming, humming, singing, coughing, sneezing or wheezing.

    • Onscreen characters clapping their hands, snapping their fingers or tapping their pencils or toes.

    • Onscreen characters knocking on doors.

    • Onscreen crowds applauding, roaring, cheering the mayor or booing a dictator.

    • Onscreen musicians playing instruments.

  3. When capitalizing for sound effects and offscreen sounds, always capitalize both the thing making the sound and the sound it makes. For example, if a gun fires, type, “The GUN FIRES,” because the gun is the thing making the sound and “fires” is the sound the gun makes. Other examples:

    The CHERRY BOMB smokes silently for several long seconds, then abruptly EXPLODES.

    Gonzalez picks up the RINGING PHONE.

    There’s a flash of lightning, followed by the LOW RUMBLE of THUNDER.

    The executioner’s FOOTSTEPS ECHO off the polished floors.

    Chuck turns ON the RADIO. SCRATCHY JAZZ PLAYS. He snaps the RADIO back OFF.

    The brawl overturns the JUKE BOX and the MUSIC COMES TO a SCREECHING HALT.

    The FIAT SQUEALS around the corner, ENGINE RACING, DOWNSHIFTS and ROARS away up the street, TIRES SCREAMING.

    A BULLET SHATTERS the WINDOW and PINGS OFF the seat belt. The next BULLET RICOCHETS around the inside of the car. The third BULLET THUDS into Markie’s chest.

    SKYLARKS TWITTER in the morning air. The BABY GURGLES happily. The FLOOR CREAKS as Mary crosses to the WHISTLING TEAPOT. Her CELL PHONE RINGS “BROWN—EYED GIRL.” And then all SOUND FADES SLOWLY to silence.

    Capitalize the word “sound” only as a last resort, if there is nothing more specific to describe what is heard:

    The children wake to the sound of a DISTANT MARCHING BAND.

    Somewhere in the bushes, Markie hears a SOFT SOUND.

Describing camera direction

The third and final reason for typing words in all capital letters in direction is because they provide camera direction. A single, three-part rule governs capitalization for camera direction: Always capitalize 1) the word “camera”; 2) any movement the camera makes; and 3) any prepositions that relate to the camera or its movement.

  1. Always capitalize the word “camera”:

    The horse gallops directly AT CAMERA.

    This applies of course only when “camera” refers to the camera filming the movie, not to prop cameras in the movie:

    The photographer swings his still camera round and round over his head, then lets it fly PAST CAMERA.

    If the words “we” or “us” are used in place of the word “camera,” do not capitalize them:

    We PASS ABOVE the battle and SWOOP INTO the clouds, a flock of doves passing just BELOW us.

    Never capitalize the phrase “we see”:

    We see a duck floating in the oily water.

    It’s a good idea to avoid using the formulation “we see.” Instead of writing, “We see a duck floating in the oily water,” write, “A duck floats in the oily water.” It’s more economical and avoids forcing the reader and writer onto the page in the form of “we.”

  2. Capitalize any movement the camera makes (whether or not the word “camera” is actually used or is only implied):

    CAMERA TRACKS Foster as he tumbles down the rocky slope.

    As the jury enters, PAN their grim faces.

    Winters climbs in the Volvo. RACK FOCUS TO Sommers climbing out of the Saab.

    Sailors pour onto the deck of the destroyer. TILT UP to see Japanese Zeroes racing over their heads.

    CAMERA MOVES WITH Englund ACROSS the trading floor.

    As the roar of the unruly crowd builds, ZOOM IN ON young Charlie, alone in the mob.

    Shane stands in the center of Main Street. CRANE UP until he looks very, very small.

    HOLD ON Lamaster’s face.

    CAMERA FLIES LOW OVER the carnage on Omaha Beach during the thick of the invasion.

  3. Capitalize any prepositions that relate to the camera or its movement. These may relate to the actual movement of the camera or to the movement of someone or something in relation to the camera:

    CAMERA ROCKETS UP and UP and UP until it FLOATS ABOVE the smoke of the burning city.

    We FOLLOW Sylvia THROUGH the door, INTO the crowded disco, UP the long stairway and ALONG a corridor, PAST a beefy bouncer TOWARD a dying Muggeridge.

    The balloon floats OVER CAMERA.

    The runner sprints PAST us.

    The biplane flies right AT us.

    Lincoln sits facing the stage, his back TO CAMERA.

    Adams turns TOWARD CAMERA.

The expressions “into frame,” “out of frame,” “into view” and “out of view”

The words “into frame” and “out of frame” represent camera direction and are always capitalized:

Waters steps INTO FRAME. He lets out a high-pitched laugh then immediately drops OUT OF FRAME.

The words “into view” and “out of view” are sometimes used interchangeably with “into frame” and “out of frame.” When they are, they are capitalized:

Waters steps INTO VIEW. He lets out a high-pitched laugh then immediately drops OUT OF VIEW.

At other times, someone or something comes into view not because it has crossed the threshold of the camera’s frame (making the words “into view” camera direction), but because it has emerged from behind something else. This is not camera direction and should not be capitalized:

Tired of playing hide—and—seek, Waters crawls into view from his hiding place behind the couch. Then he changes his mind and hurries out of view behind the kitchen door.

Freeze frame

The term freeze frame refers to an onscreen image that remains still, or frozen, for a period of time. When a moving image freezes midscene, the words “freeze frame” are placed in direction and typed in all capital letters:

Golda spots Sam across the tidy fence. He’s in his best suit. She’s covered with mud from the garden. His lips curl into a tiny smile. FREEZE FRAME.

If the shot consists of nothing but a still image from start to finish, the words “freeze frame” can appear in the shot heading:

FREEZE FRAME — HINDENBURG

At the precise instant flames engulf the airship.

A handful of exceptions to prove the rule

A few miscellaneous items that don’t fit neatly into the above categories also get typed in all capital letters: superimpositions, the words “ad lib,” certain abbreviations and, optionally, the text of signs, banners and headlines.

Superimpositions

A superimposition occurs when words such as “One Year Later” appear on the screen. The word “superimpose” or just “super” is typed in all capital letters, followed by a colon and the words to be supered in all caps and quotation marks. The words can be set on a line by themselves and centered:

SUPERIMPOSE:

“SOUTH CHINA SEA, 1938”

Or they can be embedded within a paragraph of direction:

A street car passes. SUPER: “30 YEARS EARLIER.”

Ad libs

When actors improvise dialogue, they are said to be speaking “ad lib.” The words “ad lib” are always typed in all capital letters:

Joanie pops out of the giant cake. Her grandparents AD LIB their surprise.

Capitalized abbreviations

The abbreviations V.O. and O.S. are always typed in all caps, with periods. O.S. stands for offscreen, or outside the view of the camera. V.O. stands for voice over, which refers to the sound of a voice that originates from some location outside the current scene. In other words, someone standing just outside the frame could be heard speaking O.S. (i.e. from offscreen), while someone speaking by telephone from a location a continent away would only be heard speaking V.O. (i.e. voice over).

Signs, banners and headlines

The text of a sign, banner or headline may be typed in all capital letters, at the writer’s discretion:

The sign at the front of the store reads, “HELP WANTED.” And below that, in letters not much smaller, “Japs Need Not Apply.”

The kids unfurl a scroll of paper written in bright crayon. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MISS BEASELY!”

Bobbie pages breathlessly through the paper until she finds the article headlined: “‘MIRACLE’ SAVES GIRL AT BURGER KING.”

Capitalizing the first letter of direction following a shot heading

The first letter of direction following a shot heading should be capitalized unless the shot heading forms a complete sentence with the direction that follows it. Consider the following examples:

CLOSE ON MUSTANG CONVERTIBLE

As its emergency lights flash.

MAGGIE

Grimacing. She’ll never admit it but her shoulder is

killing her.

EXT. WATER TOWER — NIGHT

Lit up by a ring of floodlights below.

But:

JOSH

types an urgent command into the keyboard. The countdown stops.

CLOSE — CHIHUAHUA

scampers over the counters, lapping up the spilled beer

What NOT to capitalize: EVERYTHING ELSE

If it doesn’t fall into one of the above categories, don’t type it in capital letters. Do not capitalize:

Underscoring in direction

Underscoring, or underlining, may be used in direction for emphasis. Readers of scripts read swiftly and on occasion the judicious use of underscoring can help to ensure that an essential bit of information gets noticed or is given the necessary emphasis. A word of caution, though: Overuse of underscoring in direction looks amateurish and, like the boy who cried wolf, eventually gets ignored.

Maggie races up the steps toward the children’s room. She throws open the door and looks inside.

INT. CHILDREN’S BEDROOM

All three of the beds are empty.

Underscoring of multiple words is always continuous (not All three of the beds are empty). Notice also that the punctuation at the end of the sentence doesn’t get underscored.

Breaking words with a hyphen in direction

Words in direction may be broken at the right margin of direction with a hyphen:

Radcliffe catches the ball in the air. He’s hit, pirouettes on one foot, then falls.

Hyphenation is generally infrequent in scripts and should be used sparingly, only to avoid an unacceptably short line. In no case should two lines in a row be broken with hyphens.

Text messages and instant messages

When the content of text messages and instant messages must be shown onscreen, they can be included in direction. Simply describe them like any other visual element in the scene. Keep in mind that viewers prefer not to read large quantities of text in their movies and television episodes. The example below addresses this challenge by presenting only part of the electronic conversation in text, and the rest in voice-over dialogue.

INT. SINCLAIR KITCHEN — AFTERNOON

Jackie’s cooking. She’s got her laptop open on the counter. Charlie’s working on homework at the table. Zoe breezes in and checks out the computer screen.

ZOE

Hi, Mom. Whatcha doing?

She’s logged onto UPS.com and is entering a string of numbers.

JACKIE

Tracking my new bed. You’re
going to love it.
It’s called a
California king.
It’s huge.

There’s a CUTE MUSICAL CHIME and an instant message window pops up on her screen from someone named “SLUGGER.” Zoe reads the message:

ZOE

“Hey, J-Bird, where ya been?”
     (then)
Who’s Slugger?

Jackie casually turns the screen away from Zoe.

JACKIE

Sit down. Get started on your
homework.

Jackie tends to her cooking until Zoe sits and digs into her books. Jackie quickly types:

“J-BIRD: I HAVE A LIFE.”

She hits enter. Goes about her cooking. The COMPUTER CHIMES again almost instantly. Zoe glances up. Jackie reads:

“SLUGGER: Good. I like that in
a girl.”

Then a second line pops up, another CHIME:

SLUGGER: You make any decisions
on where to put your new pool?”

Jackie mutes the computer. Casts a look at Zoe, then types:

J—BIRD: Where do you stand on
full sun versus partial shade?”

The answer comes back:

SLUGGER: I like everything out
in the open.”

A second line appears, this time accompanied by a male voice:

SLUGGER (V.O.)

How about you?

Jackie thinks about that. Types her reply:

JACKIE (V.O.)

We still talking about pools?

SLUGGER (V.O.)

Not necessarily.

Jackie thinks a little longer. Steals a look at Zoe and Charlie before typing:

JACKIE (V.O.)

Okay.

Notice that the content of the text messages is set within dialogue margins for the sake of clarity, and to give the reader the sense of a conversation. This isn’t the only way to format such a sequence, but it’s one simple, clear and professional approach.

Caller ID

If the text displayed on a phone’s caller ID needs to be shown on screen, it must be described in direction. You can do it like this:

Rabbit’s new CORDLESS RINGS. She dances over and plucks it from its cradle with her unique brand of dizzy panache. She studies the caller ID and her face falls.

“PATTERSON, DICK
212-555-1542”

The PHONE KEEPS RINGING in Rabbit’s hand. She gingerly replaces it in its cradle. Drained of dizzy panache.

As an alternative, slightly less space is required by the following method.

Rabbit’s new CORDLESS RINGS. She dances over and plucks it from its cradle with her unique brand of dizzy panache. She studies the caller ID and her face falls. It reads: “PATTERSON, DICK, 212-555-1542.”

The PHONE KEEPS RINGING in Rabbit’s hand. She gingerly replaces it in its cradle. Drained of dizzy panache.

Either of these approaches is clearer than the following, which comes across as sloppy and incomplete. Don’t do this:

Rabbit’s new CORDLESS RINGS. She dances over and plucks it from its cradle with her unique brand of dizzy panache. Her face falls. It’s Dick.

The PHONE KEEPS RINGING in Rabbit’s hand. She gingerly replaces it in its cradle. Drained of dizzy panache.

Here, the writer has failed to specify how the audience will know that it’s Dick calling, and has left open the possibility that Rabbit has actually answered the phone. Strive always for clarity, and never leave readers confused.

Email

To indicate that the content of an email message should be shown on screen, the relevant text can be included in direction. Remember to write with economy, including the minimum text necessary in order to focus the reader’s attention precisely where you want it.

If only a few words from an email message need to be displayed on screen, they can be formatted like this:

Lt. Breaker leans sloppily on the keyboard, drunk. He squints at the computer screen, doing everything he can to focus on the words at the bottom of the email:

“… Dixie never paid her share…”

He lets out a little gasp. Because even in his current state, he understands what it means.

If the email’s address or subject fields must be included, they can be written like this:

Lt. Breaker leans sloppily on the keyboard, drunk. He squints at the computer screen. Clicks the mouse. An email message opens up.

“From: Jacob Swimmer.”

“Subject: “Why I’m never gonna give you a dime.”

Breaker squeezes his temples, doing everything he can to focus on the words at the bottom of the email:

“… Dixie never paid her share…”

He lets out a little gasp. Because even in his current state, he understands what it means.

As always, the goal is brevity and clarity.

FAQs about direction

Is it true that a screenwriter should only describe what a character says and does, and that it’s a mistake to write anything about what a character is thinking or feeling?

Because the camera doesn’t typically go inside a character’s head, the audience can’t directly read a character’s thoughts and feelings as they would in a novel. That’s the reason for the advice you’ve heard. Describe what the audience can see and hear. If that instruction sounds terribly restrictive, consider that it might be broader than you might first think. I can see Tarzan swing on a vine. I can hear his jungle yell. But I can also see worry in his eyes. I can see realization dawn. I can even see him make a decision. The true limiting factor is how much thought and emotion an actor can meaningfully communicate through the camera’s lens. Don’t write, “Tarzan hangs from the vine, remembering the time he fell from a tree much like the one from which he now hangs and nearly died, troubled by the cruel irony that has brought him once again into mortal danger.” You’re asking too much of an actor. But do write, “Tarzan hangs from the vine, his eyes measuring the distance to the ledge. Can he make it?” I believe an actor can effectively convey that thought process. If it can be photographed, it’s fair game. Put it on the page. Otherwise, leave it out.

I notice that your script samples use two spaces after each sentence, and that you advise writers to do the same. The publishing world has long since abandoned the two spaces after a period for one. Shouldn’t we do the same with scripts?

Akiva Goldsman, a talented scribe responsible for writing not only some of the blockbuster Batman films but also A Beautiful Mind, insisted that the script processing folks at Warner Bros, use just one space after periods in his scripts. It drove the typists crazy because they were so used to hitting the space bar twice at the end of every sentence. In the end, we let the typists do what habit forced them to do, and we wrote a macro that replaced the two spaces with one. Akiva wasn’t wrong. But many writers do continue to use two spaces between sentences. It makes sense because everyone who works in production has an interest in maintaining a reasonably regular number of characters per line, and lines per page, for timing and budgeting reasons. Changing the number of spaces between sentences tweaks that page count, however slightly. It’s a small point. Bottom line: you’re probably safe going with your own preference, one space or two. Unless you run across a curmudgeonly reader for whom that missing space has become a pet peeve.

Can yon recommend a nice cabernet?

Justin Vineyard’s 2005 Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon is an excellent example of the best red wines coming out of Paso Robles and is delicious.

How do I indicate cues for the film’s score? I’m writing a thriller, and I know exactly where I want the music to come in to support the suspense of key scenes.

Don’t do it. Step away from the keyboard. Pull on a pair of mittens before you do something you’ll regret. The screenwriter doesn’t write about the score. Doesn’t mention the score. Doesn’t know the score exists. Which means that screenwriters work at a disadvantage. Many of the elements that create emotion — like the score — or that make characters relatable — like the movie stars who play them — aren’t available to the screenwriter. Your characters, and their dialogue and actions, must stand on their own. If that sounds like an absolute pronouncement, it is. And it comes with at least one obvious exception. If you’re writing a spoof on horror films, an over-the-top musical sting might become a running gag, and it would certainly fall within the writer’s jurisdiction to script such a thing.

Does the same thing apply to references to main and end titles?

Yep. Mittens. Unless you have a compelling reason to do otherwise. Why draw attention to the fact that we’re reading a script? Let us get lost in imagining and experiencing the film without intrusions from the writer telling us that the credits have begun or ended. What difference does it make? Leave ’em out. Unless, as the fella said, you have a compelling reason to do otherwise.