I want to speak like they do in Hollywood
When people think of their favourite movie quotes, they’re usually snappy one-liners: “I’ll be back”, “How do you like em apples”, or “I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse”. With a soaring score and a plot climax, it’s not hard to see how lines like “Avengers assemble”, “Luke, I am your father”, and “Welcome to Jurassic Park” can pick at the heartstrings and remain pervasive in the common consciousness. These quotes are the results of not just fantastic screenwriting, but the entire film-making process. However, I wish not only to be fantastically quippy, but also have constantly impressive speech patterns, be it humorous or serious, sarcastic or earnest. I want to speak like they do in Hollywood.
There are a few schools of screenwriters known for their dialogue. Often lauded is naturalistic dialogue, which aims to mimic how real people speak. This is often the case in many of my favourite movies, from mumblecore to Linklater. Verbal tics are left in, there are pauses for people to think, and language isn’t as refined. Most of the time, these aren’t flashy action movies or epic dramas, but rather a subset of slow-paced slice-of-life films which strive to capture what these filmmakers deem realism.
However, this isn’t what I’m interested in. I’m talking about the other school of dialogue, the impossibly snappy wit that is characteristic of Sorkins, Tarantino, Diablo Cody, or the Coen brothers. The walk-and-talk, the cleverly planned retort, and the strangely spontaneous mini-monologue. I don’t want to have dinner with Andre, I want to create FaceMash. I want to be the poignant protagonist, the vitriolic villain, or even the snide sidekick.
Hollywood has trained me to idolize these impossible speech patterns. I know that no one speaks like that in real life, what I’m seeing onscreen are paid actors reading off a script, but it doesn’t stop me from reaching for it. Classic movies are even more unrealistic, but proportionally dramatic, like the screenplay was written exclusively for the benefit of its dialogue. Consider Casablanca, with sarcastic Rick, heroic Victor, helpless Ilsa, and scheming Renault. Below are just some of Humphrey Bogart’s lines.
“Where were you last night?”/“That was so long ago, I can’t remember”
“What is your nationality?”/“I’m a drunkard”
“I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.”
“You despise me, don’t you?”/“If I gave you any thought I probably would”
“If that plane leaves the ground and you’re not with him, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life”
I encounter the same problem with my other favourite form of media: YouTube video essays. Unlike the unlacquered speech of TikToks and even sketch comedy, video essays are also carefully scripted fictions designed to show the viewer of the veracity of their worldview. They work in well-timed references and puns, all to the beat of flashing images, in what are essentially essays read as they were off the cuff. It becomes all the more impressive when these videos are played sped up the way I like them: I’ve barely processed one joke by the time they make the next, each leaving me bewildered how someone can be so smart.
It’s like a musical, carefully orchestrated beats and songs, lines that rhyme and have the same cadence. So smooth, so elegant. With a musical however, no one thinks it’s reality. No one expects to speak they way they since in Phantom or Les Mis. But for movies that aim to appear realistic and for YouTubers who want to appear smart, it’s all too believable. Carefully considered, I know no one speaks like that, perfectly polished and duly delivered. But I want to talk like that. Fast-paced rhetoric with a partner, snappy one-liners and wry observations.
The dialogue may be scripted, but the harm it causes is very real. While aspiring to speak like they do in Hollywood, I end up sounding like a pretentious fool. Using words I’ve only seen in books to form sentences that have probably never been uttered before in the history of the language, and mispronounced atop of that. This is great for an aspiring writer, but for those phrases to come out of my mouth during a Friday night out with friends is laughable. It presents as a grandstanding attempt, and a weak one: no one is impressed by my vocabulary, and the resulting word vomit generally contains a syntax error or two.
But at the same time, stretching my theatrical muscles has its benefits. My readers have commented on my strong voice when writing; apparently wordiness is distinguishable. In addition, when I try to speak less dramatically and take fewer risks, much of the practiced vocabulary and elegance is preserved. It is indubitably good for my language, just that its hasty application has led to some social derision. So I try to save the more flamboyant exhortations for closer friends and safer spaces, biding my time. For what eventual performance I’m not sure; will I have to lead a corporation out of a crisis, or run for public office? I think both are unlikely, but it’s good to know I can perfectly time a verbal riposte when required.
Of course, in most quotidian situations, it is entirely overkill. I don’t need to sound like a cadet pledging their life away when my manager asks me to finish some slides, and I don’t need to sound like a grieving parent when my friend drops my drink. Most of the time, problems can be circumvented by replacing dramatic effect into comedic effect during situations like this: over-the-top drama to be taken ironically, but it’s counter to how I want to sound: suave and sophisticated. It’s Hollywood, YouTube, and Broadway that are to blame for desire to sounds like a cartoon hero or a vaudeville villain.
But if you had the choice wouldn’t you? Why talk like an extra when you can talk like the star? Why live the life of a sheep when every day can be set in an Oscar-winning drama? So give it a try if you’re so inclined, don’t be afraid. The worst that can happen is some mockery from your friends, and the best, well the best is that you might bump into someone else quippy and turn your retorts into a dialogue.
