a Raindance Seven
Let’s stop pretending this is a debate.
Every time the industry shifts, the same people panic, moralise, and call it “protecting the craft.” It’s never about the craft. It’s about comfort.
AI didn’t break screenwriting.
It broke the illusion that typing slowly equals thinking deeply.Raindance exists for moments like this. When the rules change, the gatekeepers wobble, and the only thing that matters is whether you can still tell a story when the safety rails come off.
These aren’t tips.
They’re survival rules.Here are The Raindance Seven.
Want more Raindance? Start here:
This panic about AI is not about art.
It’s not about ethics.
And it’s definitely not about “protecting screenwriting.”
It’s about status anxiety.
Every generation of filmmakers that finally claws its way into the room suddenly discovers a moral reason to shut the door behind them.
Sound ruined cinema.
Television ruined cinema.
Video ruined cinema.
Digital ruined cinema.
Now AI is “ruining cinema.”
Funny how cinema survives every time — but hierarchies don’t.
Here are the seven lies screenwriters are telling themselves while pretending this is about craft.
No one serious believes this.
This lie exists so you can knock over a straw man and feel clever.
Screenwriting has never been about generation.
It’s about choice.
If you don’t know:
– what the scene is doing
– what the audience is feeling
– why this moment exists
Then of course the output is garbage.
That’s not AI failing.
That’s you asking a machine to replace thinking you never finished.
AI doesn’t invent stories.
It exposes whether you understand yours.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth:
Most writers’ first drafts are awful.
The difference is, when you write a bad draft, you call it “exploration.”
When AI produces a rough pass, you call it “proof it doesn’t work.”
That’s ego talking.
AI mirrors the quality of your input: structure, clarity, emotional intent.
If the pages feel empty, vague, or generic, congratulations:
you’ve just diagnosed your own development problem.
Mirrors don’t lie.
They just offend people who liked the illusion.
Cheating who?
The imaginary purity committee of screenwriting?
This is an industry where:
– scripts are rewritten by committee
– scenes are changed on set
– endings are rebuilt in the edit
– and nobody sees the original draft anyway
But suddenly using a tool to organise your own thinking is immoral?
No.
What you’re really saying is:
“I suffered through the old system, and I want that suffering to mean something.”
That’s not ethics.
That’s trauma dressed up as tradition.
No.
It will replace people who confuse typing with writing.
If your value is:
– speed
– formatting
– output
You were already disposable.
Writers are paid for:
– judgement
– taste
– compression
– what to cut
– what to imply
– what not to say
AI can’t decide meaning.
It just reveals who never learned how.
This lie has destroyed more careers than rejection ever did.
Somewhere along the way, misery became a badge of honour.
If you’re exhausted, you’re serious.
If you’re burnt out, you’re authentic.
Absolute nonsense.
If a tool lets you:
– escape the blank page
– stop fetishising software
– spend more time on character and emotion
– regain momentum
That doesn’t cheapen the work.
It finally makes it sustainable.
Burnout isn’t proof of commitment.
It’s proof you built your process badly.
Lazy stories come from cowardice, not tools.
From avoiding theme.
From dodging emotional risk.
From protecting ego instead of interrogating the work.
AI doesn’t remove rewriting.
It drags you into it faster.
If rewriting terrifies you, that’s not a tech problem.
That’s a craft problem. Don’t confuse the two.
This is the lie people tell themselves right before they disappear.
You can ignore AI.
Just like people ignored:
– digital cameras
– desktop editing
– online distribution
And history recorded them as principled — right up until they were irrelevant.
The industry is not waiting for you to feel ready.
This wave doesn’t care how many credits you have.
It doesn’t care how long you waited to be taken seriously.
It’s already here.
AI isn’t killing screenwriting.
It’s killing the fantasy that screenwriting was ever a solitary, mystical act performed by chosen geniuses.
It’s exposing:
– who understands structure
– who understands emotion
– who understands collaboration
– and who was hiding behind ritual
That’s why this conversation feels so vicious.
Not because art is dying.
But because gatekeeping is.
At Raindance, we didn’t build careers by protecting tradition.
We built them by breaking access open.
Our short courses teach:
craft over dogma
thinking over tools
adaptability over nostalgia
Because the job of a filmmaker is not to preserve the past.
It’s to survive the future without losing your voice.
The Independent Film Trust exists for one reason:
To make sure opportunity is decided by talent and commitment — not by who learned the rules first.
Scholarships.
Access.
No permission required.
Because the next generation isn’t waiting for approval.
They’re already making work.
You don’t have to love AI.
You don’t have to use it.
But pretending it’s irrelevant won’t protect your career.
It will only reveal that you misunderstood the moment.
And history is ruthless with artists who confuse fear with principle.
AI doesn’t “write the scene.”
AI organises, stress-tests, and formats your scene.
If you don’t know what the scene is for, stop.
Figure that out first — or you’ll generate beautifully formatted nonsense.
Before you prompt anything, write this as bullets:
Purpose: What must change by the end?
Point of view: Whose scene is it really?
Conflict: What does each person want right now?
Turn: What flips (information / power / emotion)?
Cost: What does it cost the protagonist to get it / fail?
That’s it. Five lines. If you can’t answer these, AI will guess, and guessing is where mediocrity lives.
Mini example
Purpose: Make her agree to the meeting — but she won’t admit she’s scared.
POV: Her, even if he dominates the dialogue.
Conflict: He wants leverage; she wants control.
Turn: She realises he already met her boss.
Cost: She must reveal the secret she’s hiding.
I do this as a paragraph, voice note, or messy bullets:
What happens physically
Key lines I must keep (even if they’re bad)
Any images, props, sounds
The emotional temperature (“cold polite,” “flirty threat,” “quiet panic”)
Important: this is not screenplay format. It’s raw material.
This is the part most writers skip — then complain it’s generic.
You give AI:
What just happened (1–3 bullets)
What must happen next (1–3 bullets)
What the audience knows vs what the characters know
Tone references (not “Tarantino” — use descriptive tone)
Example tone language:
“polite dialogue with a knife underneath”
“awkward humour under pressure”
“subtext-heavy, no exposition”
“fast, clipped, people interrupt”
Do not ask AI to “write the scene” yet.
Ask for 8–12 beats (actions + subtext), with a clear turn.
Prompt template
You are my screenwriting assistant. Based on the context below, propose a beat sheet for this scene (8–12 beats). Each beat should include: (a) visible action, (b) intent/subtext, (c) escalation. Make the midpoint and the turn explicit. Keep it cinematic and playable; avoid exposition.
Then paste:
scene truth card
brain dump
before/after context
tone
What you’re looking for:
Does the escalation make sense? Is the turn sharp? Are there playable actions (not just feelings)?
AI will usually give you:
70% useful structure
30% mush
So I do a quick “pick + tweak”:
Cut any beat that explains instead of dramatizes
Replace vague beats (“she hesitates”) with actions (“she checks the exit,” “she deletes the message,” “she sits too close”)
Make sure each beat forces a response
If the scene doesn’t tighten here, it won’t tighten later.
Write ONE sentence that is the scene’s irreversible pivot.
Examples:
“He reveals he already has the footage.”
“She says the one name she swore she’d never say.”
“The apology becomes a threat.”
This becomes your anchor. If the draft wanders, you snap it back to the turn.
Now I ask AI for a rough pass, but with strict constraints:
short lines
interruptions
subtext
no monologues unless the scene demands it
no explaining backstory
Prompt template
Draft the scene in screenplay format. Priorities: subtext > exposition, playable actions, interruptions, strong verbs in action lines, minimal camera direction. Keep dialogue lean; no speeches. Use the beat sheet below exactly, but you can improve wording. Make the turn land hard. End on a hook that propels the next scene.
Paste:
final beat sheet
turn line
any “must-keep” lines
any “must-avoid” lines (e.g., “do not mention X,” “no ‘as you know’ dialogue”)
Once you have a draft, I ask AI to mark subtext — not rewrite yet.
Prompt
Annotate this scene: for each character line, briefly state what they really mean (subtext) and what tactic they’re using (deflect, charm, threaten, confess, test, etc.). Then identify 3 moments where the subtext is too on-the-nose and suggest sharper alternatives.
This is huge. It shows you where you’re writing “explanations” instead of conflict.
Most scenes go flat because the power stays static.
Prompt
Track power beat-by-beat (who has it, who loses it, why). Suggest two ways to make the power shift more surprising without changing plot facts.
Then I implement one of the surprises:
an interruption
a prop reveal
a time pressure
a third-party text/call
an unexpected emotional move (calm instead of anger)
I paste the scene and ask for tightening options, not a full rewrite.
Prompt
Give me 10 micro-trims to improve pace without losing meaning. Prefer cutting words over adding lines. Flag any line that sounds written instead of spoken.
Then I do the human part: I read it out loud and make it sound like people.
Now AI becomes admin, which is where it shines:
formatting cleanup
slugline consistency
character intro rules
props continuity
time-of-day logic
“did we repeat the same beat twice?”
Prompt
Proof this scene like a script coordinator: formatting consistency, continuity, unclear blocking, repeated beats, confusing pronouns, and any line that accidentally contradicts prior info (based on the context).
Propose a beat sheet (8–12 beats) for this scene. Each beat must include: visible action, intent/subtext, escalation. Make midpoint + turn explicit. Keep it cinematic. Avoid exposition.
Draft in screenplay format. Priorities: subtext > exposition, playable actions, lean dialogue, interruptions, strong action verbs, minimal direction. Follow the beat sheet. Make the turn land hard. End on a hook.
Annotate each line with subtext + tactic. Identify 3 on-the-nose moments and propose sharper alternatives.
Track power shifts beat-by-beat. Suggest 2 surprise power reversals that keep plot facts.
Give 10 micro-trims for pace. Flag any “written” dialogue.
Proof for formatting/continuity/repetition/confusing blocking/pronoun clarity.
1) “It’s well-written but dead.”
→ You didn’t define the turn and cost.
2) “It explains too much.”
→ You didn’t specify “no exposition” and you didn’t provide audience/character knowledge split.
3) “Everyone sounds the same.”
→ You didn’t provide voice rules per character (next section).
Before drafting, I give AI a tiny “voice box” for each character:
Vocabulary level: simple / educated / technical
Rhythm: short / flowing / stop-start
Default tactic: charm / attack / deflect / negotiate
Verbal tells: interrupts, questions, jokes, avoids pronouns, etc.
Forbidden: words they’d never say
That alone kills 80% of AI sameness.