Writing a concept

A concept reads like a short story a client can picture, in 2–3 minutes.

How a concept reads (decided):

• Plain, fluent, exciting English for a reader who isn't a film specialist: short sentences and common words. "Route", "territory", "key visual" and "proposition" stay off the page.

• Few, clear headings and a flowing explanation that weaves story, structure, visuals and key messages together. No technical subsections, shot lists or bullet specs.

• No minimum scene count. The story has as many scenes as the idea and the length need.

• Name the specific details that make it funny, moving or striking: what people wear, where they are, what they do, what the product does. In comedy, the comic detail goes into the costumes, the set, the situation and the characters' actions.

• The rules for every client page hold (decided). The page is in English, and spoken and sung words stay in the client's dialect inside «…». It reads as a finished plan: every choice decided, with no "maybe" or "we propose". A concept develops the idea, the art direction, the places and the camera, never a core element of the brief (see The stages and gates → Writing for the client).

Decide the genre in two lines [proven]: the register (the genre that sets performance, edit and sound) and the product treatment (the genre that sets the hero shots); an air conditioner can be sold with comedy. What each genre asks for: Genres → Rules for every genre.

The write-up, in this order:

1. a title of 2–4 words people will say;

2. the idea in one line of under 20 words;

3. the story in a few short present-tense paragraphs, opening with what we learned about the audience and closing with how bold it is;

4. three set-apart lines: Tone, How it sounds (any line in «…» on its own line) and The music.

Add one closing line on how it lives on (cut-downs, a series, a recurring line) only when it adds something.

The sound sentence [proven]: where the idea lives in sound (a silence that carries the turn, two sound worlds on one bed), "How it sounds" gains one plain sentence on that sound idea. Most concepts leave it out.

A concept write-up, written for this guide (comedy, an invented air-conditioner brand, Cairo):

The Cold Seat

Every August lunch is a quiet war for the cold seat, until the whole room turns cold.

Every family in Cairo knows the fight nobody admits to, and Talj ends it without a word. It is Friday lunch at Teta Samia's flat in Shubra, forty degrees outside. One armchair sits right under the old wall unit, and everyone wants it. Uncle Medhat arrives early in a pressed white shirt and claims it with a folded newspaper. Cousin Rana, in gym clothes and sunglasses on her head, moves the newspaper to the sofa and sits. Uncle Medhat comes back with a plate of stuffed vine leaves and stands over her, chewing slowly. Teta Samia, in her floral house dress and plastic slippers, watches the whole battle from the doorway with a fan of folded cardboard. Then she walks to the wall, switches on the new Talj unit, and the whole room goes still. Curtains settle. Rana's sunglasses slide down her nose. Even the far corner by the balcony, where the children eat on the floor, is cool. Uncle Medhat looks at the armchair, at the sofa, and sits on the floor with the children. Teta Samia takes the armchair herself, and nobody argues. Of the three, it is the most familiar situation, played completely straight.

Tone: deadpan. A real family, a real heatwave, and a war fought only with looks.

How it sounds:
«مين قاعد مكاني؟»
Uncle Medhat's only line, said to the armchair, not to Rana. The room is loud with plates and talk until the unit comes on; then the talk drops away and only the hum and one fork are left.

The music: none until the end card, then a short brass sting. Avoid anything cute; avoid anything that tells us when to laugh.

Sources

• The sound sentence follows sound designers who write sound into scripts and treatments: Randy Thom (filmsound.org); Factory (A Sound Effect).