Neun Jahre alt ist das bemerkenswerte Memo, das David Mamet, sei­nes Zei­chens Skript­au­tor sol­cher Mei­len­steine wie »Glen­garry Glen Ross«, »The Ver­dict« und »Wag The Dog«, an die Auto­ren der TV-Serie »The Unit« schrieb:

„Someone has to make the scene dramatic. It is not the actor’s job (the actor’s job is to be truthful). It is not the director’s job. His or her job is to film it straightforwardly and remind the actors to talk fast. It is *your* job.

Every scene must be dramatic. That means: the main character must have a simple, straightforward, pressing need which impels him or her to show up in the scene.

This need is why they *came*. It is what the scene is about. Their attempt to get this need met *will* lead, at the end of the scene, to *failure* – this is how the scene is *over*. It, this failure, will, then, of nessecity, propel us into the *next* scene.“

Nach­dem ich gerade wie­der ein paar beson­ders schöne Bei­spiele von Fil­men gese­hen habe, die sinn­los mäan­der­ten, lege ich die­sen Arti­kel mei­nen Lesern zur Lek­türe unter die Augen — und ans Herz. Das heisst übrigens nicht, dass ich langsame Filme nicht mag — sie müs­sen aller­dings einer dra­ma­ti­schen, nicht bloß dra­ma­tur­gi­schen Logik folgen!