Scriptnotes Recap: Episode 672, Navigating Loss with Jesse Eisenberg

Last week on Scriptnotes, John welcomed writer, director and actor Jesse Eisenberg for an in-depth discussion on loss, finding your voice as a writer and how to get your movie made.

Jesse Eisenberg was a dream guest. Not just because I’ve been a fan of his work for a while (seek out his directorial debut When You Finish Saving the World, it’s great) but because he was so generous with his process, his experience, and with himself.

I shouldn’t be surprised by that – he’s a movie star, he’s had twenty years of experience talking about his work and making it feel like effortless conversation (which now having seen a lot of people come on the show, let me tell you is an art form in itself). But how Jesse talks about his work is what sets him apart: he is a true craftsman, dedicated to his practice as much as the project, and willing to fearlessly examine his work in order to improve (even when he’s Oscar-nominated).

Yes he’s an accomplished filmmaker, but he seems to view himself as a writer above all, happy to work in whatever medium will help him realize the story he wants to tell. Or even just land a good joke. For instance,

Jesse would rather write for The Onion

John August: Let’s take it back to the 20-year-old Jesse Eisenberg. If I were to sit you down for an interview then, and say, “Jesse Eisenberg, what do you want to do with your life?” What were you shooting for?

Jesse Eisenberg: Oh, The Onion. I would have just wanted to write for The Onion. To me, it’s the greatest thing in the world. During the pandemic, they allowed me to do six weeks on a probationary period. I did not make it past the six weeks, but I had great stuff and I just wouldn’t get it voted in at the end.

I was also not one of the core writers. I was on this probationary thing. My headlines and stuff would not be prioritized. That to me still feels like the whale.

To me, it’s the greatest comedy writing in the world. I aspire to it and feel shamed that I didn’t get in there.

John: Yes, so instead you’re just making movies and starring in things.

Jesse: To me it’s so much easier. Like, the head writer from The Onion saw the movie A Real Pain and he complimented me on it. I immediately sent him back a headline because I was so desperate to just have something in The Onion.

To me, if I had a non-byline Onion headline, no one knows it’s me, and it came out as one of 100 headlines that week, it’d make me happier than any movie script.

My favorite moments in Scriptnotes interviews are when the guests and hosts leave the interview structure completely, ignore my little face on the Zoom call, and just talk shop. That's usually when their most valuable insights come tumbling out like loose change from a purse, and you feel like you've been given a secret.

This episode was full of those, like:

Which scripts make great movies?

Jesse: Do you find that there are a lot of movies that just don’t read well on the page, but you know are going to be great?

John: There are. Some of the cases I’ve run into are directors who’ve written things —they have a vision for what it is — but they just can’t get it on the page very well. I know this filmmaker’s going to be able to make something great, it’s just not there yet. At the Sundance Screenwriters Lab, sometimes you have these filmmakers coming in who are working on their first or second movie. They’re struggling with the screenplay form, but you know they have a great vision there.

In those cases, I describe my job as an advisor is just to be an extra brain and a little muscle. “I'm your friend with a pickup truck who’s going to help you move from where you are to where you need to be. I’m not going to change anything, I’m just going to help you get there.”

Jesse: That’s a nice way to think about it. The alternative thing is scripts that read really well that don’t make good movies, and I’ve been able to figure out what those are too.

John: Tell me.

Jesse: It’s the kind of script that has really flashy dialogue. The quirk factor is turned up, people have odd names and everything. Stuff like that is funny to look at, but doesn’t translate to when you’re watching human beings take on those things, and now you have to follow them.

John: Also, I think what you’re describing is sometimes, “Okay, that little moment was funny, but it’s not the kind of funny that’s going to continue out through two hours of a movie experience.” The difference between sketch writing and longer form writing is the ability to really go on a journey with these characters and want to see them as it continues.

Jesse: Yes, and not be too funny. Sometimes scripts are too funny, and you’re constantly undermining the gravity of the emotions of the characters. It’s a good sketch, but you can’t actually engage with these characters in an emotional way.

So many guests are protective of the little spark that inspired their project, or have crafted such a precise narrative of its genesis that all the messy process of creation gets ignored, but Jesse was completely fearless in walking us through how his ideas develop.

Developing the Screenplay for A Real Pain

Jesse: I had written one character in a play, named David. The play took place in Poland, and was called "Revisionist." It’s similar to my character David, who I play in this movie. My third play, which is my best play, was called "The Spoils," and I played a character named Ben, who is this charming, maladaptive guy, like Kieran’s character in A Real Pain.

Then I had written a short story where I took these two characters from these two separate plays, and put them in the same room as childhood friends who go to Mongolia. Then I thought I would adapt that to a movie. It was just not going well. Basically, it was a first act and then it jumped to this big, tragic reconciliation of their past. I didn’t have a second act.

I was so frustrated because I knew there was potential with these two characters. I loved them so much and I loved their banter. I knew there was potential in a road trip with these guys. I was banging my head against the computer when an ad popped up for Auschwitz Tours, and then in parentheses, "with lunch." Auschwitz Tours (with lunch).

John: That's incredible.

Jesse: I clicked on the ad, even though I already knew what it was, which is that it takes you to a site for advertising English-speaking tours of Holocaust sites. I thought, “That’s the movie.” That gave me the vehicle.

I can set these two guys who both have their own internal pain against the backdrop of objective, horrifying pain. Suddenly I could implicitly make this bigger commentary on, what pain is valid? Is my OCD character’s pain valid? Is Kieran’s pain, who has much darker demons than my character’s pain, valid? Or are we just individual grains of irrelevant sand on the beach of Polish trauma, in Holocaust history? Once I came up with this Holocaust tour, it just seemed like this is a great vehicle to have a movie with these two characters.

John: The choice to make them cousins makes a lot more sense now that you talked through the history of this. Originally, they were best friends, but that really wouldn’t make sense for why they’re going on this tour together. If they were siblings, you’re dealing with all the sibling stuff of it all. Cousins is the in-between place.

Jesse: Exactly. If you’re siblings, you’re always connected by your parents. There’s the expectation that you should always be in each other’s lives. Cousins who lose a grandparent, which is their only link, really have to make a decision in some ways, unconscious, implicit decision on if they’re going to remain really close. That’s what’s going on with these characters in this movie.

Listen to the full episode here or anywhere you get your podcasts.

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