How to Think & Write "High Concept" (and what it actually means)
For those of you who have sent your writing babies out into the world, it’s likely you’ve received the vague, discouraging feedback that goes something like this: “Your story is too…quiet.” “It doesn’t jump out at me.” “The narrative takes too long to explain.” Or the most common, “What’s the hook?"
What all of these agents, producers, and editors are really saying is, “It’s not high concept enough.”
So what does that mean, and how do you begin to tease that out of your existing story, or craft your new one with one in mind?
Most of the advice out there, while helpful, remains elusive. Be original. Write what sparks your imagination. It should be entertaining. You should be able to see it visually. Summarize it in one sentence. It’s the poster, the elevator pitch, the hard cover should be….should should should.
Are your eyes rolling into the back of your head yet?
I get it. Those ingredients matter, but you certainly do not need to have a high concept idea in order to be prolific or successful. Yet the perplexing question remains.
What exactly does one DO to land on a high concept idea? What are the elements to incorporate and actions to employ that result in a high concept, pitchable story that will instantly click with readers and make it imperative for them to read more?
What I focus on in my consults and workshops, and has served as the common thread to the writing projects I have sold or that have had nibbles (which counts), is that every single one of them is high concept, even though I didn’t know it at the time. Those ideas found me, instead of the other way around. Crafting a strong core idea from the get-go is paramount, no matter how you summon it.
For me, it tends to be a eureka moment, where an idea kicks my right brain with a riddle that needs to be unraveled. Where the lens in which I experience the world suddenly slips sideways and provides me with a view through an otherwise unseen crack. An unexpected twist to the mundane. A peek behind the curtain into a nook of human experience that must be played out and explored.
Think of it as wish fulfillment. Of asking yourself in a moment of angst: What if? What if the existential burden I feel could be eased or eliminated with a solution that’s not possible in the “real” world (or in mine)? Take the movie “Big,” where a young boy makes a wish "to be big" and is then aged to adulthood overnight. I think it’s one of the best examples of a high concept movie, where something impossible and yet relatable occurs. How many times have you wished you could change your circumstances with the push of a button?
The first screenplay I co-wrote and sold was about the privileged children of diplomats who have diplomatic immunity and can therefore get away with anything. It was well executed and had marketable elements (action, cool kids, twists and turns, danger, etc.), but it was the concept that cinched it. And yet, it languished in development soon after, and was exiled to the dead script office. But somehow, a decade letter, it’s been exhumed and resurrected, rewritten and changed, yet the original premise - the high concept - remains.
High concept projects are idea driven (aka, pitch driven). The hook and appeal is about plot– a mystery that grabs you by the neck and immediately triggers your needing to know what is going to happen.
The movie TED is another good example: A man whose childhood wish of bringing his teddy bear to life came true, now must decide between his girlfriend and the bear.” Also think Pretty Woman. Memento. A Quiet Place. Se7en: A serial killer takes down his victims based on their violations of the seven deadly sins. The Hangover: Three guys retrace their drunken bachelor party steps to locate the lost groom-to-be.
All are premised on a recognizable, typical scenario which is transfigured into an atypical, high-stakes one that poses a conflict and hangs on a strong, central conceit.
Conversely, non-high concept projects tend to be execution driven, where the writing, the characters, and the setting/world is the main attraction. These include some of the best movies of all time. Sideways. Arrival. Lost Highway. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Good Will Hunting. Even Starwars.
If your story falls in either one of these categories, or somewhere in between, it’s all good. Don’t fret, or force yourself to pursue something you’re not interested in or a style that isn’t your own. Reverse engineering a cool idea because you think it will sell and stuffing it into a script usually results in a lifeless, manufactured formula.
The only question to ask yourself is if there is a way to reposition and elevate your idea, so that it “feels” high concept. So that it feels fresh, intriguing, and something we haven’t seen before, but we think we have. Often the best ideas when you hear them are the ones you’re certain have been done, because they seem so obvious. So organic. Which basically boils down to one word: relatable. An itch you’ve always had that you didn’t know needed scratching. A mystery about the human condition, a relationship, or a scenario that you’ve always wanted to traverse and solve.
Every good story has this key ingredient, if you know where to look.