Friday Q&A: The Correct Use Of Dashes

Q: I have a question about punctuation in scripts, specifically the dash. I understand it is used in dialogue for interruptions, and also when a thought changes suddenly. I have even seen it used in action and description as well. It always seems to consist of two hyphen marks with a space before and after. From what I’ve read it should be used for emphasis or when several related items need to stand apart from one another. But I’m still a bit confused. Can you identify and show examples of how the dash is most commonly used in dialogue, action, and description? – Robert Hosking

A: Thanks for your question Robert. Generally, punctuation rules are the same for any type of writing (you may see a few variations based on which manual an editor uses, for example the Associated Press or The Chicago Manual of Style).

When it comes to the dash, there are two types of dashes, the em-dash and the en-dash. The en-dash is the width of the letter “n” and the em-dash is the width of the letter “m”. The em-dash can be written as one long extended dash (–) or two single dashes (–), always with a space before and after.

The en-dash is used to designate a range or when one part of an open compound is made up of two words, such as:
“I work from 8-5 every day.”
“The score was 3-1 at halftime.”
“Robert is an Academy Award-winning screenwriter.” (Note that the en-dash signifies the inclusion of Academy in the open compound, whereas a hyphen only includes the joined words.)

The em-dash is used most often to indicate emphasis or interruption. Commas and parenthesis are also used to enclose parenthetical elements. The difference is em-dashes mark a sharper disruption than commas and parenthesis indicate a still sharper one than em-dashes. The em-dash is also used for attribution (such as the usage above attributing Robert Hosking to today’s question) and as part of each slugline. Writing a well-structured, compelling script is the goal – so don’t get too hung up on em-dashes.

Some screenwriters use em-dashes more than others. Shane Black (Lethal Weapon) may be the king of em-dashes when it comes to using them in description and action lines.

EXT. SIMI VALLEY – MORNING
The scorched landscape stretches out beneath a latticework of high-tension power lines. Only scrub grass grows here. Rusted railroad tracks wander into the distance, and nestled beside them, like the last stop before death — sits a lonely trailer home. Battered TV antenna. A dirt yard, which houses a beat-up pickup truck. Dead garden sprouting weeds. The ground begins to tremble … like an earthquake, RATTLING the POWER POLES, as, without warning — An express TRAIN BLASTS BY and streaks past the trailer at seventy miles an hour.

INT. HIGH-RISE APARTMENT – NIGHT
Through billowing curtains, into the inner sanctum of a penthouse apartment, and here, boys and girls, is where we lose our breath, because — spread-eagled on a sumptuous designer sofa lies the single most beautiful GIRL in the city.

She stands, stumbles across the room, pausing to glance at a photograph on the wall: Two men. Soldiers. Young, rough-hewn, arms around each other.

The Girl throws open the glass doors … steps out onto a balcony, and there, beneath her, lies all of nighttime L.A. Panoramic splendor. Her hair flies, her expression rapt, as she stands against this sea of technology. She is beautiful.

On the balcony railing beside her stand three potted plants. The Girl sees them, picks one up. Looks over the balcony railing … It is ten stories down to the parking lot. She squints, holds the plant over the edge.

GIRL
Red car.

Drops the plant. Down it goes, spiraling end over end — until, finally … BAM — ! SHATTERS. Dirt flies. A red Chevy is now minus a WINDSHIELD. The Girl takes another plant.

GIRL
Green car.

She drops it. Green Dodge. Ten stories below, BAM. Impact city. Scratch one paint job. Grabs the final plant and holds it out

GIRL
Blue car.

POW. GLASS SHATTERS. Dirt sprays. A blue BMW this time. The Girl loves this game … her expression is slightly crazed. She reaches for another plant — There aren’t any. Her smile fades — And for a moment, just a moment, the dullness leaves her eyes and she is suddenly, incredibly sober. And tears fill her eyes as she looks over the edge –

GIRL
Yellow car.

EXT. BENEATH THE PIER – NIGHT
FOUR TOUGH-LOOKING DOCK WORKERS are camped out under the pier, warming themselves around a small bonfire, laughing loudly. Christmas decorations dangle above them from the pier, and empty beer cans litter the sand around them. An old collie is tied to one of the pilings. The dog is being tormented by the dock workers. They flick lighted matches at him. Shake their beers and spray him in the face.

These guys are not rocket scientists. The dog cowers, tugging on the rope. Tries to get away. All to the great amusement of its tormentors. One of them turns, laughing –

As a shadowy FIGURE strides calmly up to the fire:
Long hair.
Cigarette dangling from-lower lip.
Shirt-tails hanging loose below the waist.
Nothing threatening in his manner as he plops down beside the men, smiling.
They are immediately on their guard.

RIGGS (FIGURE)
Happy holidays. Mind if I join you?

PUNK #1
Yes.

PUNK #2
Fuck off.

Riggs smiles at him innocently. Strokes the collie’s fur with one hand. With the other, he reaches into a paper sack and produces, a spanking new bottle of Jack Daniels, possibly the finest drink mankind has yet produced.

RIGGS
I need help drinking this. Cool?

The dock workers exchange glances. There seems to be no harm in this. One of them frowns:

PUNK #1
You a homo?

RIGGS
Do I look like a homo?

PUNK #1
You got long hair. Homos got long hair.

PUNK #3
I hate homos. Arrggh.

Riggs shakes his head, laughs.

RIGGS
Boy, you guys are terrific. You make me laugh, you just do.

At which point, appropriately enough, Punk #4 shakes a beer and sprays it in the old collie’s face.
The DOG pulls away, WHINING.
Riggs leans forward.

RIGGS
This your dog? Nice dog.

And then, he proceeds to do a peculiar thing: He starts to talk to the dog — in what seems to be the dog’s own language. Very weird, folks… He coos, snuffles, barks softly, then withdraws, listening, his ear to the dog’s muzzle. Riggs nods. Frowns. The others look on, puzzled. Then Riggs looks at each of the four dock workers.

RIGGS
Huh – You know what? He says he doesn’t want you to spray beer in his face. He says he just hates that.

A pause. Uncomfortable. Then –

PUNK #1
Oh, he does … ?

Screenwriter David Marconi also likes the em-dash, as noted in this scene from Enemy of the State

INT. CRYSTAL CITY, VIRGINIA, TALL OFFICE BLDG. – DAY
A well-appointed big-city law office filled with citations of merit and pictures of a wife and child. ROBERT DEAN, a likable young lawyer, sits behind his desk with his back to an OLDER MAN. He stares at a commanding view of Washington, D.C. as he listens to a tired, smoke and whiskey voice.

OLDER MAN (L.T.)
I don’t know how much longer we can hold out, Mr. Dean.

DEAN
I don’t know, either, L.T. Maybe you guys should get yourself a labor lawyer.

L.T.
Well that’s why I’m here, Mr. Dean. ‘Cause you’re a labor lawyer.

DEAN
Good point.

L.T.
Last night, Larry Spinks, he works the Steel Press, he goes to a bar with his wife Rosalie to have a glass of chianti ’cause it’s his birthday, and these two guys, these Guido mother-fuckers, they jump him when he goes to the bathroom.

DEAN
L.T., in this office I’d prefer you say Italian-Americans.

L.T.
I’m sorry, Mr. Dean. But Larry’s in St. Lukes now, so I’m a little — I’m not myself. The Union bosses say unless we take Bellmoth’s offer, it’ll only get worse.

DEAN
That’s because your Union bosses are those Guido mother-fuckers.

L.T.
I don’t under –

DEAN
The Union’s trying to railroad you into accepting terms worse than what you have now.

L.T.
Why would the Union –

DEAN swivels around in his chair and faces L.T.

DEAN
Because they’ve been paid off by Bellmoth.

L.T.
Mr. Dean –

DEAN
My name’s Bobby. I’m your lawyer. Don’t do anything ’till I talk to you.

DEAN gets up and walks a grateful L.T. to the door, calling to his secretary as they go –

DEAN (CONT’D)
(calling)
Martha! Larry Spinks, St. Lukes. Send him a case of chianti from the firm. And send his wife Rosalie some flowers.

Posted: January 29th, 2010
at 5:00am by Laura

Tagged with how to write a screenplay, how to write a script, screenplay writing, scriptwriting, writing a screenplay
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