See a film or have it told to you?

The screenwriter must consider not only the direct viewers, but also those who will be told about his work. These secondary stories, which have become multiple interpretations, contribute to the life of the film in the collective memory, and deserve to be integrated into the creative process.

Writing Also for Those Who Have Films Told to Them

A film, a series, a social media video—these are audiovisual objects meant to be seen and, I would even say, experienced by viewers. Therefore, hearing a film being told rather than watching it firsthand seems at first like a highly degraded version of the cinematic experience. It is not something that we, as professionals, would typically aim to cultivate.

And yet, I believe that as screenwriters, we must consider not only the experience of those who directly watch our audiovisual creations but also those who have them narrated to them. They are part of our audience too!
We must, I believe, take into account the experience of these peculiar spectators who have our films recounted to them, just as we consider and respect those who choose to watch our films or series at an accelerated speed, or those who only watch excerpts of our works—something increasingly common today, particularly among film students. It’s much like literature: there are countless books we have only read excerpts from, never in their entirety. Today, the same applies to films. Many films exist that we have only seen in fragments or have been told about—whether partially or entirely.

That doesn’t make us bad viewers! This type of audience is still part of our spectatorship, and in my view, we should respect them and craft our scripts to ensure a high-quality cinematic experience for them as well.

Creating the Desire to Tell a Story

What makes someone want to recount a film to another person? It’s about sharing a learning experience, emotions, an important theme, an aesthetic, an artistic movement, or insights—everything that films and audiovisual works can offer us.

What is particularly interesting for us screenwriters at this stage is that we gain an additional interpreter—not just the director, but also a viewer who becomes a secondary filmmaker through their retelling of the film. This means we do not have just one director for our film; we have a multitude!
The role of a director is to interpret the script and translate it into images, sounds, and words. But I argue that hearing a film narrated can also be a valuable viewing experience. In fact, I recall reading—though I can no longer find the source—that the way we remember a film, whether we have seen it or had it told to us, can be quite similar. That is to say, for certain films, we may not remember, long after the fact, whether we actually watched them in full, only saw parts, or had them described to us.

We do not always recall the specific moments we experienced; instead, we carry the film within us, remembering what felt significant to us. This is why I consider the narrated film an important aspect to acknowledge. Our role, as members of the collectives that create audiovisual works, is to enrich our audience with what we intend to offer them—both in the present moment, through the pleasure and emotion of their cinematic experience, and in the future, through what they retain from it on multiple levels.

What Happens to a Film After It Is Watched?

So, ultimately, what happens to a film in the viewer’s mind after they have seen it? It transforms into the story they tell themselves about it. Even the films we have watched become films that we mentally reconstruct in order to continue benefiting from them.

And this is precisely why what endures is the story that remains, not the film itself. This explains why, in retrospect, we may sometimes confuse a film we have seen with one that was simply narrated to us. Because in the end, we retell the films we have watched.

Therefore, even for what I might call our first-time viewers, I believe it is crucial to consider the version of the film they will mentally recount after watching it. This is yet another dimension to consider in our screenwriting.
Film narratives can also become highly collective experiences. People share iconic scenes, memorable dialogues, and cult moments from films. This is a form of reappropriation. And the way this reappropriation unfolds? We, as screenwriters, have a role in it.

If we acknowledge this, if we incorporate this dimension into our writing process, subtly weaving it between the lines, it can enrich the film—not just in its immediate experience but in its lasting presence within individual, collective, and community memory.