The screenplay, traditionally seen as a technical tool of cinema, is in reality a complex concept that deserves to be questioned in its essence. Both a practical guide and a creative act, it reveals different facets depending on cinematic approaches.
What is cinema?
For those familiar with the working methods of cinema, the question of the screenplay seems obvious. Yet, much like André Bazin, who in 1952 posed the question “What is cinema?”, I believe it is pertinent to question the very essence of the screenplay. This question, seemingly simple, is in fact fundamental. It invites us to explore the philosophical foundations of the screenplay to better understand its role and, in doing so, improve our practice.
The screenplay is often perceived as a technical tool, a transient skeleton that organizes the making of a film. It serves to convince financiers, structure the shoot, and guide the crew. Yet, it is much more than that. It is also an act of creation, a space where imagination takes shape.
The screenplay, an object more insituable than we think
Take the example of Mulholland Drive by David Lynch (2001). For this film, the screenplay was a tool for organizing the shoot, but it was largely dismantled during editing: the editor received the rushes without the screenplay. She thus reinvented it. The final film, mysterious and disorienting, no longer corresponds to the original screenplay. Here, the screenplay is merely a provisional step, a starting point for a work that invents itself as it goes along.
On the other hand, in many films, the screenplay remains a reference document throughout the process, from shooting to editing. It is both technical and narrative, structured into scenes and sequences to facilitate practical organization. It is written so that each page corresponds to one minute of film, allowing readers to feel the rhythm of the story.
But the screenplay can also reinvent itself. For example, in the case of improvised films shot in a single take, the screenplay is sometimes written simultaneously with the shoot. Ideas emerge from improvisation, the constraints of the set, or the interactions between actors. The screenplay then becomes a fluid object, defined a posteriori, once the film is completed.
These examples show that the screenplay is a hybrid object, at once technical, creative, and conceptual. It can be a written document, an organizational tool, or even a creative process that invents itself through action. Philosophically, it questions our relationship to creation, time, and imagination.
I do not claim to provide definitive answers, but rather to open avenues for reflection. The screenplay can be much more than we imagine; it can be a space of freedom and reinvention. It is one of the spaces within which we are invited to constantly rethink our practice, in order to create films that resonate with their era and their audiences.
