Human Interest.—­In the Biograph photoplay, “Three Friends,” previously referred to in this chapter, there was one short scene that was especially effective—­one of those human-interest bits that are characteristic of photoplays that sell.  After the arrival of the two men, and the reconciliation between the foreman and the young woman’s husband, the former hurries the latter off to the factory, promising to “give him back his job.”  The third friend hangs behind, and, realizing that the wife is without money to buy food, hands her a banknote.  She hesitates to take it; but he, noticing the revolver which she now holds, takes it from her and thrusts the money into her hand in its place, indicating that he is only buying the “gun” from her.  The woman smiles gratefully, and the kind-hearted friend hurries out after the other two men.

It will pay the student to remember all the little human touches of this kind that he sees in the photoplays of others, and, while by no means copying them, try to work into his own stories bits of similar value.

Human interest must be woven in the plot, and not thrown in in chunks.  As for how to do it, “Each mind,” says Emerson, “has its own method.  A true man never acquires after college rules.”  But of one thing make sure:  Plan your human appeal from the start, so that the actual climax may loom up distinctly from the time you write your very first scene.  As Jean Paul has said, “The end we aim at must be known before the way.”

In conclusion, we offer a short catechism that the writer will do well to consult before sending out his script: 

Is my plot really fresh?

Could it be called a colorable imitation of any magazine story, book, or play?

Is it strong enough?

Is it logical?

Does it suit the time of year?

Is the plot not only possible but probable?

Is the material desired by the producer to whom I am sending it?

Does the company make that style of story?

Are the points properly brought out, that others may see them as I do?

Can I make it better by altering it?

Will it pass the Censors?

Even if it does, will it offend even one spectator?

Do the synopsis and scenario match properly, or have I hinted at action in my synopsis which is not adequately worked out in the continuity?  On the other hand, does the synopsis tell everything that happens in the scenario?

Is it impracticable for the camera?

Have I introduced scenes that would cost too much to produce?

Is the cast too small?

Is it too large?

Finally, some anonymous writer has said:  “Don’t let go of your script until you are positive that you have made every detail clear, that your layout of scenes has told the story in self-explanatory action, and that you have answered every prospective ‘Why?’”