logo

37 pages 1 hour read

Blake Snyder

Save the Cat: The Last Book on Screenwriting You'll Ever Need

Nonfiction | Reference/Text Book | Adult | Published in 2005

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Introduction-Chapter 2Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Introduction Summary

Snyder provides the rationale for why he created a new book on screenwriting and how his book differs from the many existing books on the subject. He makes four main arguments. Firstly, other books hold movies in too much reverence and use academic language instead of the jargon and shorthand of studio executives and professional screenwriters. Secondly, he decries how-to screenwriting guides that were not written by people who have actually sold scripts. Thirdly, he has taught the method in his book to other screenwriters who went on to achieve success, thus proving its merits. Finally, he claims to tell the hard truth about the success rates of script-selling.

Snyder also describes his annoyance with some Hollywood films that fail to achieve box-office success because the screenwriters violated the rules of making a good movie. As evidence, Snyder explains the title of his book: Save the Cat refers to a scene early on in a film wherein the hero does something to indicate their goodness, thus making the audience like and care about them. He uses the Al Pacino movie Sea of Love as a good example, and Lara Croft 2 as an example of where it is missing. Snyder calls his methods of making a mainstream, successful movie “common sense basics” (xvi) and the physics of good storytelling.

Chapter 1 Summary: “What Is It?”

The most basic question about a movie or movie idea is “What is it?” It’s the question asked by friends trying to pick a movie to see over the weekend, as well as people in the movie industry, from agents to producers and movie executives. Pre-sold franchises, or films based on existing products, such as comic books or video games, are easier sales to make because they are known. New screenwriters, in contrast, don’t own the rights to franchises, and thus have to be able to pitch their movie idea in one concise sentence called the logline.

Snyder sets out the four components of a good logline: irony, the ability to visualize the movie from the logline, a hint at the potential audience and cost of the film, and a title that indicates what the movie is. The ironic component is the hook of the idea and suggests the conflict. As for audience and cost, Snyder promotes “four-quadrant pictures” and “block comedies” (8), as such movies appeal to a broad spectrum of moviegoers and don’t require expensive sets or special effects, which tend to make them low-risk options for studios. The logline should at least hint at what kind of budget the film requires.

Snyder also suggests that before a screenwriter dives into writing their script, they test-market their idea by pitching it to strangers, ideally ones who match the target demographic. If the idea can keep the attention of a stranger, then it may be sellable. The author then introduces the term “high concept” to describe a film that, via its poster and title, allows the audience to easily grasp what it’s about. While the term has become unfashionable, according to Snyder, the concept behind it is what sells scripts and movie tickets. Alfred Hitchcock movies, as well as movies by Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Eisner at Disney, serve as examples of very successful high-concept pictures. The exercises at the end of the chapter involve looking at the loglines of existing movies and improving them, if necessary, as well as writing loglines for the reader’s own scripts. There is also a game of coming up with loglines for different types of movies.

Chapter 2 Summary: “Give Me the Same Thing … Only Different!”

The author points out the conundrum of needing to be original and avoid cliché while at the same time having to stay within movie tradition and be accessible to audiences. Snyder asserts that almost all stories fall into a narrative category, so instead of trying to deny that fact, writers should study and learn from other movies in that category. However, generic categories such as “romantic comedy” do not say enough about the story or tap into the deeper, underlying structure. Snyder creates his own 10 movie categories (25-26):

  1. Monster in the House. Examples include Jaws, Alien, and Fatal Attraction. Similar to the Greek myth of the Minotaur, movies in this category feature an imminent threat in a confined location. Snyder uses the term “primal” (26) to describe the stakes in these stories, referring to the basic instincts that motivate characters.
  2. Golden Fleece. Examples include Star Wars; Planes, Trains, and Automobiles; and heist movies. This category is based on the story of Jason and the Argonauts, wherein the hero sets out to find one thing but along the way achieves personal growth. Snyder introduces the term “set pieces” (29) to describe the episodic adventures that occur.
  3. Out of the Bottle. Examples include Liar, Liar; Freaky Friday; and Snyder’s own Blank Check. There are two variations of this type of story: wish fulfillment and comeuppance.
  4. Dude with a Problem. Examples include Die Hard and Schindler’s List. The protagonists of these tales are ordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances that elicit their heroic potential.
  5. Rites of Passage. Examples include Ordinary People and Days of Wine and Roses. In these stories, the end-goal for the hero is “acceptance of the forces of nature he cannot control or comprehend” (34).
  6. Buddy Love. Examples include Dumb & Dumber, Thelma & Louise, Finding Nemo, and many love stories. The endpoint of these stories is the hero’s realization that they need their partner. Usually one character undergoes the most change.
  7. Whydunit. Examples include JFK and Citizen Kane. Based on mysteries called “whodunnits,” these movies are more concerned with the reasons behind a crime or other action.
  8. The Fool Triumphant. Examples include Forrest Gump, Dave, and Amadeus. The common theme in these stories is an underdog character who takes on an institution or the establishment and succeeds.
  9. Institutionalized. Examples include M*A*S*H, The Godfather, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Films in this category involve groups of people in various institutions, from families to the military, and expose the strengths and weaknesses of the institution. Often there is a conflict of the individual against the collective.
  10. Superhero. Examples include Superman, A Beautiful Mind, and Gladiator. The inverse of “Dude with a Problem,” these films feature extraordinary people in an ordinary world. Being misunderstood is a central concept in these stories.

Snyder closes the chapter with exercises to put existing movies into these categories or try to come up with a new category that has at least three movies in it.

Introduction-Chapter 2 Analysis

Snyder heads off one key area of potential criticism by clarifying his goals for the book in these early chapters. Critics might note that a formulaic approach to creating art introduces the risk of producing formulaic art, that is, art that does not take risks or challenge the status quo. However, Snyder is explicit in introducing the theme of Box Office Success Versus Art. He makes clear that his target audience does not consist of people who want to write an indie or artsy film, or even something that might be an Oscar contender—though that is not out of the question. Instead, his target audience consists of “those who want to master the mainstream film market” (xvi). The ideal end-product is a screenplay that is a low-risk, easy sale to Hollywood executives that is likely to result in a movie that will please mainstream audiences and thus achieve box office success.

Snyder’s defined target audience suggests his book serves more as marketing guidance than as writing guidance, though disentangling writing from marketing is difficult for writers seeking to sell their scripts. For example, the path to success in Snyder’s method starts with a good logline. That logline—all in just one or two sentences—acts as a hook, indicating irony in the premise; suggests the audience, cost, and storyline; and “in addition to pulling you in, has to offer the promise of more” (7). Snyder directly addresses the would-be screenwriters who may chafe at reducing their intricate stories to one line:

You’re so involved in your scenes, you’re so jazzed about being able to tie in that symbolic motif from The Odyssey, you’ve got it all so mapped out, that you forget one simple thing: You can’t tell me what it’s about. You can’t get to the heart of the story in less than 10 minutes (4).

The author reminds the reader frequently that Hollywood studios are businesses and, therefore, can be averse to taking expensive risks and may not have patience with newcomers who cannot answer basic questions. Snyder’s overall focus in these opening chapters aligns with the criticism of Jacob Krueger, an award-winning screenwriter himself. While Krueger does encourage new screenwriters to read the book, he emphasizes the importance of understanding the nature of the book: “Blake Snyder is dangerous because he doesn’t teach you how to be a writer. He teaches you how to be a salesperson” (Krueger, Jacob. “What’s Wrong With Save the Cat?” Jacob Krueger Studio).  

Snyder’s emphasis on the importance of aligning scripts with what already exists in the market could lead to pitfalls for writers. One potential pitfall is a writer stripping their originality from their script. In order to be fresh, Snyder asserts, the writer needs “to be well-versed in the language, rhythm, and goals of the genre you’re trying to move forward” (43). As he notes, the question of “What is it?” will be quickly followed by “What is it like?” Snyder discourages writers from declaring their works to be completely original and unlike anything else. Instead, the screenwriter should strive to understand where their script fits into the existing film universe. Snyder references Steven Spielberg, award-winning director and producer, as someone who knows movies and thus understands the way different types of movies are put together. However, this effort risks undermining a writer’s unique creative fingerprint, and Snyder’s guidance does not quite draw clear lines on when to push the creative envelope versus when to yield to market norms. Another potential pitfall relates to the fact that writing takes time. Snyder’s advice could be misinterpreted as Snyder urging writers to respond to current trends, which are typically fleeting—long past by the time the script is ready to pitch, let alone turned into a film.

Snyder strives to avoid these pitfalls by keeping his advice timeless, relying on the theme of Making It Primal. His categories are based on archetypal storylines and ancient narratives told around the world. He argues that these categories have stood the test of time because they hit on basic, or “primal,” emotions, events, or yearnings, such as life and death, love, and belonging. Knowing movie tradition and story genre is key to making a good movie, because “[m]ovies are intricately made emotion machines. They are Swiss watches of precise gears and spinning wheels that make them tick” (22). In using the term “primal” to describe these archetypal underpinnings, Snyder notes that being primal is “not about being dumb” (26). Rather, primal emotions are those that resonate with the viewers because they are widely shared human experiences or feelings. Snyder returns to the theme of Making It Primal throughout the book.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text