The Art of Screenwriting: Hoss Amini

by George Louis Bartlett

Forced out of Iran as a refugee following the revolution in 1979, Hossein Amini, Oscar-nominated screenwriter of Wings of a Dove and 2011’s insta-cool-flick Drive, writer-director of The Two Faces of January, and co-creator of crime series McMafia, has forged himself a spot as an industry staple with a honed ability to adapt his craft to all types of stories, across genres.

This was the opening I was going to go with. But when I read Amini the paragraph he laughed politely and said, “It’s been fairly up and down. I had an Oscar nomination at 32, and then didn’t get anything made for six years. It’s been really up and down.” 

And so began our conversation during which I spoke not with a writer winding down and spouting false modesty, but with an ambitious writer in the midst of the mist of his own career, trying to make sense of how he got there and what may be ahead of him. Somebody who, while privileged in many ways, was choked by other factors completely out of his control, but never ceased to keep writing. 

Yet, most of what I could say about Amini in this opening statement is better communicated in the words of the writer himself.

GLB—Why didn’t you get anything made for six years?

I did a deal with Miramax. I was basically their rewrite. But it happens. It’s always that struggle between finance and doing your own work and it’s a really hard balance because you…you know…they throw lots of money at you. And it’s really easy to do rewrites on studio films that are in trouble, or things like that. And then neglect the things you really want to do. I’ve always struggled with that. But some people don’t. There are some people that I really admire who just haven’t been tempted by that side. Who just concentrate on what they want to make. But I’d say that most UK screenwriters are tempted at one stage or another by Hollywood and the studios. 

Have you always wanted to direct?

Well, I started out wanting to direct. Then did a couple of short films at university and the writing sort of happened. And people want to categorise you as one or the other. So unless you start off being a writer-director and really stick to your guns then they ideally want to separate that. I don’t know if it’s a conscious thing. But once you become established as one thing it’s very hard to shake it off. That’s why it took be about fifteen or twenty years to direct a feature film. 

The reason I did my deal with Miramax was that they promised me that if I wrote two scripts for them, I’d get to write and direct the third. But the moment I signed, that was all out the window. 

It wasn’t on paper?

Yes, it was. It was all on paper. But they could say no to a lot of the practicalities. Then I ended up doing rewrites to try and get out of the deal. 

How do you deal with, as a screenwriter, getting screwed over by everybody in the food chain?

Well. Yes, you do. And that doesn’t really stop. But I think it’s learning…you need a bit of luck, too. The people that fuck you over at the beginning you’re going to meet on the way up, and meet them on their way down. And that does happen. But I’d say it’s really tough because as the writer, you’re the beginning of the process and everybody’s really nice to you at first but then at some stage a director comes in and the director becomes everybody’s favourite person. And I think it’s accepting that toughness and knowing who you’re dealing with is really important. Find something out about the production company, because there aren’t that many who can get things made. 

I remember when I first started out I wrote lots of letters and got lots of rejection letters. But then found out subsequently that half of the people I got rejection letters from were in no position do actually do anything themselves - one person outfits in the middle of nowhere. And it’s just that you have to know which companies are actually worth going after - and those companies tend to not mess you around. So people who ask you to write for free tend to be people who don’t have money to pay you which means, on the whole, they’re not really serious companies. Any real company will have some system of paying you. So writing for free is generally not a great idea. And there are a lot of producers who are trying to break in themselves and they will often say they know so and so and we can get this made in order to get you to write for free. If you write for free, you have to write for yourself on spec. I think that’s the only way to do it. Don’t give any rights over to somebody that’s not paying you. Write it, but retain the rights. You need the choice to walk away.

Do you think the overvaluation of the director as auteur is to blame for producers the under-appreciation of screenwriters?

I think so. I think that’s been the case. And I think it has shifted slightly. I think it’s been the case more in European cinema because of the tendency to write and direct. But there are very few auteurs. There are a bunch of them whose careers are a brand, so I can understand it. But the ridiculous thing is when you spend three years writing a script and then a director comes on and it’s announced a film by, then the director’s name - but they haven’t done anything. The a film by credit is the one I find the most egregious and the credit, even on the film that I wrote and directed, that I didn’t want. I just felt it wasn’t fair to anybody - editors, costume designers etc… You really have to earn that, but right now pretty much every director gets it. There’s a difference between the idea of the auteur and the credit a film by credit - I think it devalues not only the writer’s work but everybody else’s work, too. 

How did you navigate going from being a screenwriter to writing and directing your first feature The Two Faces of January?

I’d been around a lot of film sets. And it was something I’d always wanted to do. And I was very very meticulous in preparing, maybe too much so. I storyboarded the whole thing. And watched hundreds of films in the same area. And I’d say, if anything, it’s good to prepare but I’d be careful not to prepare too much so that accidents don’t happen. I think you just have to trust your instincts and go with those and your preparation - it’s a balance of the two. 

I spoke with Kate Leys about control and the screenwriter’s desire to control the work all the way down the line—and how can be detrimental to the process, to the final film. How do you manage to let go of the screenplay? 

It’s a combination I think. I mean, as a screenwriter you have it so clear in your head…but then you hit a series of obstacles. For one, you’re never going to find the right location, or a person or an actor, that fits the image in your head. So there’s that initial dissatisfaction that stems from the fact that nothing quite matches. So you have to first let go of this stuff. And then you have to let go with you collaborators, too. The real joy of directing for me really came from the actors. I remember I had it my head that Oscar Isaac would be standing in a window, brooding, and he said something to the effect of I don’t brood like that, I walk and I stress and I don’t stay still. So they bring their own reality and specificity to a performance. In the same way a costume designer will do that and a director of photography will do that. The thing I learned and if I could do it again I’d use more - is to try and tap into each person’s creativity but also their personality and find a way to make that part of the process. And the trick is to keep your own vision in your head. 

Do you consider yourself a writer in the sense that writing is your art, your way of expression?

I do. It is. But again, the frustrating thing is…screenwriting is such a tiny part of what is finally up on the screen. And that’s why a magazine that publishes screenwriting is such a good idea. I’ve certainly written screenplays that, if you read them, would make much better screenplays than films, and vice-versa. So I think you’re very much in the hands of the director, the casting, the circumstances of the shoot. And most importantly what happens in the edit. Because that’s where the film is made or broken. And there are scripts I’ve written that I was incredibly proud of that have just turned into absolute disasters. And the grain of that may have been in the screenplay, it’s hard to tell. But sometimes a screenplay can get crushed along the way. 

Do you write prose at all?

No. I wrote a play once. But I’ve always been interested in film, really. TV is something interesting. The long form. But haven’t worked on a couple of shows now, I miss movies. I want to go back. There’s something about seeing it on the big screen. I think TV has different demands, the storytelling form is really interesting, but it’s really different. I quite like silence. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved. I think silent storytelling is storytelling at its purest. And I think in TV that’s hard because people are watching it on their phone; it just seems to have different rules and I’m just getting my head around them. 

What was that process like for you on McMafia?

It’s a lot of work. I don’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. But I took a film-writing approach to McMafia. You know, I was writing with other people and rewriting lots of that so, I sort of saw it as one story, broken up into eight bits. But upon reflection I sort of wonder if actually there needs to be more focus on each individual episode, even if it throws the whole. For example, reviews tend to review the first episode and audiences tend to switch off after a first episode. Which means you have to throw tonnes into your first episode. 

It’s like reviewing the first ten minutes of a film. 

Exactly. And suddenly you’re being killed for those first ten minutes. In a movie people give you those first ten minutes. So I think if I do it again I’d be more mindful of the attention spans of audiences. Even reviewers aren’t going to sit down and watch all eight episodes - that was something I was quite taken aback by. I assumed they would reach a judgment after seeing every episode - but it’s really quick. One episode, or two or three. I suppose it reflects an audience that will switch off. But very few people walk out of a film after the first ten minutes.

The ending is everything. 

Yeah, and I think the strongest thing with McMafia were episodes 7 and 8. I spent a lot of time into and got a lot of satisfaction from building towards a powerful emotional ending. But you realise in TV that the first is as, or if not more, important than the last episode. And I guess beginnings in movies too are always very key; it’s what allows audiences to settle. In Drive, that car chase is sort of doing what a first episode does in TV. This is a taster of what to come. And that allows you twenty five minutes of character building stuff. 

What’s Drive’s relationship to the 1976 film Driver?

That film was a big influence. But a bigger influence is Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samurai. Driver is a chase movie, which we weren’t really interested in. But that car chase was really…the idea that you could start off like that then go slow. That’s the main take away from that. But I’d say it’s closer to Le Samurai. But the other movie that I ripped off was Shane. 

Where does Melville fit into your canon? 

He’s a proper auteur. It’s very hard to write like Melville, because unless you’re then directing like him…his style and tone is so specific. I love the nobility of his heroes; the greys, the moral greys in his films. The nobility of failure and defeat, which is a lot in his work as a theme. I love the minimalism. And I guess you absorb it. I watch a lot less films now than I used to when I was younger, but I’d watch two or three films a day. But I think it goes into your creative bank, or whatever it is. 

I love westerns, too. I always watched a lot of westerns. I think it’s the minimalism in the storytelling. Very clean, basic storytelling. Westerns, thrillers, gangster movies. I was never really into comedy. I liked watching them but never really wanted to make them. But genre film, with emphasis on character. 

What’s the process of an adaption for you?

I read the book two or three times before I even start, just to get to know it. Then I tend to leave it aside for a while. Sometimes I’ll go back to it once more to see if I’ve missed anything. So I’ll read it, break it into cards and once it’s broken into cards they become the book for me. So I’ll then go through the cards and go, well, these two cards feel a little repetitive. So I’ll either chuck it out or find another scene to replace it. So it’s sort of quite a loose process. Reinventing it. But initially it starts by breaking it down into the beats of the book. 

Do you take a technical screenwriting approach to adapting a book?

One of the things I’ve always felt about the structure is that it’s closer to a piece of music than three acts, for example. I think these things are really helpful in the planning stage, in a broader sense. But I think when you’re writing it then it’s an instinctual sense of fast, fast, slow, and understanding when you’re being too slow. I remember one of the mistakes I made in Two Faces was something I found out in the editing room. I had three long dialogue scenes back to back, very near the front. And that’s a killer. And it just took us forever in the edit to get over that problem. And that was a thing of just getting the rhythm of the beginning wrong. 

I’ve probably learned the most in editing rooms in terms of how close film structure is to musical structure. It’s about keeping an audience engaged and when you feel that they’re trailing off or getting bored you speed up or introduce a turn or a twist. Kind of like when storytelling was face to face. I think that interaction is more important and more usual than when you’re actually doing the day by day writing - I have to hit my plot point here or whatever. 

Do you maybe feel that the screenwriter should be introduced into the editing process?

I think editors and screenwriters are really close to each other. And the edit is the last draft of the screenplay, however cliché. The reason screenwriters have been kept away from editing rooms is because they can be seen to be precious about their work. But if you get experience and go beyond that stage, it’s about retelling the story. OK, this hasn’t worked. How do we retell it in an interesting way? And I think that’s where a writer can be really useful to a director. And it’s usually a very uncomfortable situation because they don’t like writers being in the editing room. The good ones do.

McMafia was really close. Because I worked with a really close friend of mine, James Watkins. So I was in the editing room with him pretty much the whole time. It really was co-creating. So he went off and took nine months of his life to shoot this stuff but is brilliant at involving everyone. So we were really close with the two editors that we worked with. It made it really good fun. 

The problem with cinema is that because of the position of the director in terms of being star of the show - in TV because it’s always been writers as creators and executive producers, there isn’t that same weight on the director so it’s easier to have an equal relationship - the problem with a movie is even if that director is a really modest director, , the pressure of failure is on them and everybody is turning to them. Hierarchy makes it a lot more difficult to work like that. Danny Boyle, John Hodge and Andrew Macdonald started off doing that with Trainspotting, they were a team. But at some stage Danny Boyle becomes a rockstar. He’s a modest guy too, but he became the centre of attention. Therefore that we’re a team relationship gets shattered after a while.

How does your background feed into McMafia?

The experience that I’d had was quite niche. I’d come from Iran after the revolution. My family had - not very much money - but enough money to not struggle like lots of migrants did at the time. I was in a situation where my mom could send me to private school and stuff like that. But I very much felt at school that I was one of the very few foreigners. In London I felt I stood out because of colour. And gradually over the forty years I’ve lived here I’ve seen it change. Having started out with it being an uncommon experience it slowly became a more common one. The first thing I wrote fed in to my background, too. It was a BBC series about Iranian refugees after the revolution. But it never got made. I think the experience was too niche, it wasn’t universal enough to connect with a British audience. But then with McMafia I was able to put all of my experiences into a young Russian kid, who’s also sent to a boarding school and who is also teased for being foreign - and Jewish - it was something that came easier, to project myself into a story that had a bigger appeal. And as London’s become more cosmopolitan with a lot of foreigners that live in London. I think the audiences that have connected quite strongly are ones that can recognise their own experience in the show. Whereas, you could argue that there’s another side of the BBC audience that don’t really connect to it because it’s about wealthy foreigners in the city that they’re not claiming to be their own, that once used to be theirs (member’s of the audience). So I do think the new London versus the Old Britain was a point of conflict. Identity and fractured identities is extremely relevant. People aren’t sure of who they are in the context of the country they live in. Whether it’s people suddenly feeling there are too many foreigners here now, or whether it’s foreigners that feel unwanted. 

Where is your personal voice in your work?

The biggest influence would’ve been two things. One was the revolution where I came from a pretty affluent family and then my world is turned over pretty quickly. And also my mum and father divorced at exactly the same time. So that sense of emotional strife, pain, whatever it is… I felt it very powerful and moving. And whatever I’ve done, the idea of guilt, betrayal, loving somebody but actually hurting them at the same time, is present. That grey area is something that is really important to me. 

For example the villain in McMafia was the person I was most interested in writing. Because it was my relationship with my daughters. But also that the world changes and you can’t necessarily keep up with it. And I think that story is usually given to a hero. But that idea of impermanence interested me. Even if it’s writing scenes in Snow White and the Huntsman - I’m looking at truth in the way people relate to each other. The big political themes don’t interest me as much. It’s about things between people. That’s what I respond to. Love, betrayal, jealousy, guilt - emotion-based ideas rather than changing the world. I’m interested in the individual. As individuals world events are just so much bigger than us - so we fall back on… you know… either caring for other people or betraying them or whatever. These events are just enormous - in the same way the Revolution was to me. They’re just massive. All that’s left is our basic, common humanity. 

What’s your relationship with Iran?

I’m very proud of the filmmaking. I think it has a great tradition of filmmaking. I think there was a sense of religious tolerance that I grew up with - that is no longer there - which I feel sad about. I’m embarrassed by the fact that it’s a government that has to oppressive it’s people. But at the same time I’m very proud of where I come from. And it was something I struggled with for a long time when I came here, it was hard to be Iranian because of what happened with the hostages. And people were lined up and shot. All those dictatorial elements were embarrassing but actually there’s a very rich cultural and I think a very warm and hospitable people. So I’ve sort of reconciled myself to that sense of identity. 

I think London is muddled. There was definitely a period in the mid-to-late nineties at the beginning of Cool Britannia where it felt as though it was going to go on like that forever and this was the new way. But then terrorism became a thing and the reaction to immigration happened and now we’re back into the state of flux and confusion. But it definitely felt like a golden age and I personally felt, having struggled with identity, that this is where I belong. A London that was both English and cosmopolitan. You could meet other foreigners as a foreigner. It felt like a truly international city. But now obviously that’s up in the air. But I’m generally optimistic about the city. I’m also very glad my family came here to England as refugees. I still think that despite everything that has happened it is extremely tolerant on the whole. Self-questioning and self-critical and all those things make it a fabulous place to come - which is why so many people do come here.

How much research do you do as a screenwriter?

Research is probably my favourite part. I think the greatest pleasure of screenwriting for me is the idea of being able to immerse yourself in worlds and subjects you know nothing about. Quite often I’ll take a job because I’m really interested in the subject matter. I studied history at university. So if I was suddenly commissioned to write something about the…I don’t know…Dutch painters of 17th century, I’d think, great. Because that’s an excuse for me to spend two of three weeks just reading up on those people. Or even if it’s a science fiction project, similarly. It’s great to get paid to become an expert of sorts on something you know nothing about. 

I wrote Drive. And I don’t drive. But I read everything I could about mechanics and race car drivers. That was a huge pleasure in research. Also in bank robberies. So for two or three months you become an expert on one subject. I can’t do more than one thing at once. I can do re-writes on something I’ve worked on before. But I can only do one page one rewrite at a time. It’s almost like method writing. I tend to only watch movies in that genre, too. 

When you come out of that stage do you find yourself lost? How do you switch off?

I watch a lot of football. I do. I’m not very good at idling. So if I’m not working or writing I tend to get restless and do stupid things like Google reviews. So I love to have something else to move onto. I think that’s really important about screenwriting, too. At every level. I think when you’re starting out it’s important not to hang around. Just go onto the next script. Don’t wait for that magical letter - or email now - to come through the door. But go onto the next one and be surprised by any good news that comes later. And it’s the same with projects that get made - either basking in the glory or brooding in the defeat - neither are a good idea. Just find the next thing to do. 

I love the writing - or I’m addicted to it. I’m not happy when I’m not writing. I can usually take a week off before I start going stir-crazy. 

What I tend to do is write very early in the morning until about lunch time. And then I’ll spend the afternoon either reading around the next days scene or watching a film which is somehow in that zone. Just to prepare. But then after about six or seven I’ll just watch sport.

Screenwriting is such a strange form because it’s a combination of art and craft. How do you navigate that?

I think it starts with having an understanding about the audience you’re writing for. Box offices are published every week. There’s something very brutal about it. You find out very quickly whether it’s connected or not. TV is even worse - TV is really strange. With a movie you’re making it for an audience that then goes and looks for it. But with TV you’re putting it out there and a whole audience who wouldn’t be exposed to it are watching it, turning it on. It’s a whole different set of demands. So if you’re putting on a series with no-goodies, with subtitles, lots of foreign actors on primetime BBC, it’s a challenge. As a screenwriter your self expression is always considering the producer, the director, the audience. It’s harder to disappear into your own bubble. So there’s much more of a conversation with an audience, whether that’s a script editor, a producer or the audience. That’s always.

You can’t afford to be self-indulgent. 

Yeah. It costs a lot of money to make a movie. It costs money to get a book published. But a bad book isn’t going to put companies and people out of business and work. The two hundred million dollar movie you’re working on could support starving people or pay for fighter jets. It’s a massive amount of money. So if somebody’s telling you we need to change this, it’s much harder to fight for your vision. 

Why is screenwriting so hard?

You have to love movies to write. I think quite often a lot of good playwrights or novelists think we’re fantastic writers and try to switch to the medium of screenwriting thinking it’s easy. But it’s not. Because screenwriting is filmmaking. I have noticed that there’s an arrogance in a lot of people that haven’t done it, that just think that they can do it. They see it as hack writing. It’s true of journalists as well, whether it’s film critics or other smart, bright people. They think that because of their intelligence that they can just do it. But they can’t. It’s a lot of work. In the same way that if I wanted to suddenly be a novelist or a journalist of a film critic I’d need to work at it. It’s not just because I can write that I could write like they do. There’s also a disrespect surrounding the screenwriter because everybody thinks they can write. But it’s really not that easy. You have to put in a lot of hours to work out that craft - and once you know the craft, then the expression and art comes in. But there is a lot of discipline that goes in, too. Novelists and playwrights still receive a lot more respect. I think because people feel like, well, we all watch movies and TV so it can’t be that hard. 

In fact it’s the complete opposite. 

I think so. 

Screenwriting doesn’t get enough credit for being filmmaking. People have this idea that screenwriters write the dialogue and everybody else makes the pictures and clothes and whatever. The idea that you describe a room - people don’t know  what screenwriters do. 

Favourite films?

Vertigo. Hitchcock I love. Apocalypse Now. Blade runner. Quite Dar. The Searchers. Chinatown is probably one of my favourites. Sergio Leone, I love. It’s the same silent storytelling to Melville. 

Contemporary screenwriters you admire?

Paul Thomas Anderson. I think because he’s such an amazing director I think his screenwriting ability is completely overlooked in a way. Even though he’s nominated for screenplays. But in the way of public perception. Steven Zaillian. I love his writing. Schindler’s List is probably the best script I’ve ever read. Everything you see in the movies is just done in a interesting way and it’s so intelligent as a piece of writing. That and Chinatown are the two bests scripts I’ve ever read. William Goldman is also a classic. He’s someone where you don’t see any great literature, but his structure is just phenomenal. 

The writers I admire tend to be writers that then end up inevitably directing.

Do all screenwriters want to direct?

Not all of them. But if you become successful as a screenwriter they tend to say, Oh, well why don’t you direct this one? So either it’s something that they’ve always wanted to do or.It’s funny because I’ve always thought in film, to really get to the top, you need to be a director or writer-director. But in TV, to be the creator or the main writer, you get interviewed more. It’s a really big deal. And in terms of ambition it feels good - which is why writers love TV because they’re king. And in film I think it’s a combination of seeing your work screwed up enough. And to be fair to directors it’s really hard to direct a movie. A lot of it is down to circumstance. So I’m not blaming directors. What I feel is that there are probably thirty to fifty really extraordinary directors out there who I would hold my hands up to and say, They will take my script and turn it into something way better than it is. But at the same there are also a lot of people that are bright and talented but not very special. And I think - and I’m sure other writers will feel the same way - well let me at least have a go and see if I can do it or not. There are more than fifty, I’d say, actually. But most working directors aren’t that special. 

Writing and directing doesn’t appeal to me as much in TV. Shooting time is so limited that for example - I remember doing a rewrite on Gangs of New York. And Scorsese took a day to get one shot. You could never do that in television; you’re always going to be limited. It’s harder as a director to create - you’re working at a much much faster pace. The things I love about film - long takes or really intricately designed scenes just aren’t possible with TV - obviously there are exceptions like True Detective. 

Starting out?

If you write one screenplay and wait for it to happen you’re not increases your chances. Luck is landing on the right person’s desk at the right time. Every screenplay you write you’ll get better. You’re honing your craft, the craft side of it will improve. It’s about accepting that just because you’re not breaking through it doesn’t mean you won. A) You will get better and B) those lucky breaks happen. Every time I was about to give up something small would happen. I’d win a short film prize and that would keep me going for six months or a producer would tell me that they read my script but couldn’t produce it but really liked it.

You have to love writing. It has to be an obsession or an addiction or whatever. Because if it’s about success or fame or whatever, it’s not the right profession. You can make a lot of money. But if you’re after fame, do something else. There are very few famous screenwriters. You also take so many knocks along the way. Whether it’s nobody responding, or you get commissioned and they don’t make it. Or they make it and it’s not what you want. Or it’s what you want and it gets terrible reviews. It’s pretty hard to get a good buzz out of the successes of screenwriting. 

The good thing about screenwriting is, for example, if you’re a director and you make two bad films - or two films that don’t do well - that’s it, they just won’t let you direct. But you can always write, even if it’s under a different name. That’s the good side of not being famous; you can do your work. 

The future of film?

I think there are bound to be new forms of entertainment and art forms. We don’t even know what they’re going to be. Films will become like going to the National Gallery and look at Renaissance paintings.