written by Anjini Taneja Azhar
A short film that stands out against the crowd can be a powerful calling card for both a writer and a director. Even more so, in a time when short films are anything but far and few, a powerful short that stays with an audience even when the lights go up can make all the difference. So what makes a short film stand out to film festivals, programmers, and audiences? It all starts with the script.
Studying other short film scripts that take bold risks, play with creative storytelling, and understand how to capture a moment in such a concise amount of time is a great place to start. For this installation of “Anatomy of a Short Script,” we’ll look at another successful yet powerful short film: SHÉ (SNAKE). This short film was written and directed by Renee Zhan and screened at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival, TIFF, SXSW, and Florida Film Festival, going on to win the “Share Her Journey” Award at TIFF. Zhan does a fantastic job blending genres; SHÉ reads like a drama and takes on a simple dramatic question and frames the narrative using horror and surrealism.
We’ll do a deep dive into the characters, premise, structure, voice, and creative storytelling strategies in SHÉ.
OPENING IMAGE
SHÉ hooks us in simply: no flash, all character. We’re introduced to Fei, a British Chinese 16-year-old violinist with a talent and an obsession. In a simple three or four sentences, the script offers Fei a unique character trait of the violin hickey she picks at that immediately makes her more interesting. We enter her mind state of obsession and madness with these simple pieces:
CHARACTER
A character is more than their description. In a short film, it’s important to establish a protagonist’s given circumstances quickly and in a creative way. SHÉ accomplishes this through how those around Fei see her. Fei is a racial target by her classmates; however, what the script does excellently is create a unique manifestation of this common social reality: the HISS.
Fei ignores the obscenities and attends orchestra class. Here, the orchestra director states his disappointment in the class and compares them to Fei, wishing they could be as good as her. We now read what feeds her character. Her obsession is fueled by validation, which means validation is the greatest currency to her—validation that she is the best. In just three scenes, we understand Fei as a character deeply.
THE INCITING INCIDENT
SHÉ accomplishes what is often the most challenging aspect of a short film— getting to the inciting incident promptly. In just three scenes, we’ve learned who Fei is, her biggest flaw, her strength, what she depends on, what others depend on her for (ie: her orchestra director). We have all we need in act one for a concise story. Within our third scene—page two—our inciting incident kicks in. Fei sees what appears to be her doppelganger in the hallway. Her greatest fear walks into the room: a new violinist Mei, who happens to also be Chinese British. The orchestra director then announces yet another horror for Fei: a chair test. Fei is now placed in a brand new arena in which she is not used to—having to compete for being the best.
TENSION & STAKES
What SHÉ does brilliantly is establish stakes and tension. In a short, there is very little time to really up the antics and reach that climax. By page 6, this short script quickly intensifies. Fei’s character becomes neurotic back in the practice room, just like in scene one. Her violin hickey has morphed into growths and from it erupt three maggots, slithering away with a hiss. Between the hiss from the maggots to the violin hickey being a source of conflict, the script is now calling back to details established in act one. We’re now finding a pattern of each little aspect of the script’s first act circling back. It’s a great example of everything in this script having intention and purpose—nothing is written just because it’s a “cool” visual. It all directly influences our protagonist and her story. Whilst this is crucial in any script, it’s even more so in a short script.
PACING
The script does an excellent job of not hanging on one moment for too long. In a short, pacing is of the utmost importance. Immediately after the inciting incident, Fei returns home to find Mei at her dinner table, dining with her family in the joyous manner that she always struggled to. Her mother, Xiaoyan, excitedly tells Fei that Mei is their new neighbour and missed home, so she invited her for a home-cooked meal. This hits Fei where it hurts even more, because Mei is doing everything that her family wants; she is polite, social, enjoys their cultural meals, and speaks Chinese better than Fei. The script circles back to a character trait established for Fei in scene one to really drive home that this trait is a nervous tick: scratching at the violin hickey. Her mother swats her away in front of Mei, humiliating her, and establishing that her violin hickey will be a cause of further conflict.
The day of the chair test arrives, and Fei is put to the test. She undergoes her downward spiral. The maggots have erupted from her skin, personifying her insecurities, and she is only getting more obsessed and more frantic. The script writes a tension-filled duel between violinists where Mei is calm and poised while Fei fights for her life. Both are equally talented, but their dispositions are opposite. Meanwhile, the maggots from the practice room slither around the room, about to confront Fei, further utilizing a creative and unique method of showing this protagonist’s interpersonal conflict. Fei breaks first, grasping her face, overwhelmed, and in turn, she hits rock bottom as Mei is assigned the new first chair. Mei has dethroned Fei.
The script quickly moves into Fei’s “all is lost” phase. She falls into delirium and runs home only to find the green maggot has turned into a snake with black hair, its face not visible to Fei. The snake sits at the dinner table and Fei’s mother compares her to the snake. She returns to the practice room and the creature comes face to face with her. It has her face. She is literally facing her insecurities.
A STRONG CLIMAX
A powerful short film that sets itself apart delivers a gut-punch of a climax that is fearless. In SHÉ, the script’s protagonist falls into absolute delirium. The snakes and creatures circle Mei, who confronts Fei. Mei tries to connect with her and Fei finally screams her inner thoughts to Mei. The creatures surround them like a fight club, the stakes rise, and we’re on the edge of our seats.
Mei does the unimaginable: she connects with Fei. The hissing has always been connected to the sounds of Fei’s classmate’s racist remarks and gestures. They’ve been the insecurities fueled by racism clouding her mind, and these insecurities have been what’s driven her to prove to herself that she is better than the awful things her peers say. Mei understands exactly this, and for the first time Fei is validated:
AN ENDING THAT STICKS ITS LANDING
When Fei finally hears the validation she’s needed all along, she finally gives in. Mei can hear the sounds too. She’s not one of the “others.” In a moment of understanding that shows Fei’s character changing and growing in reaction to Mei’s choices, Fei finds a violin hickey on Mei’s neck too. Fei sees herself in Mei and we now move towards a powerful resolution between protagonist and mistaken-antagonist. This is where our protagonist gains a renewed consciousness: the real antagonist is Fei’s own insecurities that have pinned her against one of her own.
Fei faces everything that was a force against her in act one in a powerful fashion: her insecurities about her own culture because of bullying, her competition against Mei because of her identity crisis, and her need to be the best for the wrong reasons.
SHÉ absolutely sticks the landing. Every part of the script has come full circle and we’ve taken a common experience of racism and the identity struggles of being young and different, and created a whole new creative perspective of this narrative. The story ends with the two girls no longer pitted against each other, but stronger than they ever were before. The hissing returns, but this time it is a superpower, it is their own language they connect with. The big orchestra performance is on, and the crowd goes wild because of what their “togetherness” can accomplish.
READY FOR THE NEXT LEVEL?
Read the short film script for SHÉ (SNAKE) here and watch the short film on Vimeo to compare script to screen. Next, it’s your turn to write a powerful script that uses a unique premise, strong stakes, and captivating characters that we’ll never forget.
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Shore Scripts’ Short Film Fund provides an opportunity for emerging writers, directors and producers from around the world to receive much-needed financial support to get their work produced and seen. Learn more here, and check out some of our previously produced short films here.
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Anjini Taneja Azhar is a director and screenwriter based in Los Angeles. After working as an actor for over 10 years on studio features and network TV, shadowing and observing directors such as JJ Abrams, she dove into writing, directing, and producing. Anjini has written and directed multiple award-winning shorts, associate-produced for renowned companies such as the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, artists like Olivia Rodrigo, and been featured for her work in Forbes Entertainment, Women Cinemakers, and Ladygunn Magazine. Her latest narrative short, WHO ARE YOU, NANU? earned her the Grand Jury Prize Shore Scripts Film Fund Competition, a WritersxWriters Finalist and Hollyshorts Screenplay Competition 2nd Place Winner. She is a Golden Script Finalist and PAGE Awards Semifinalist. Anjini is also a freelance writer for Shore Scripts, a screenplay competition juror for the Slamdance Screenplay Competition, and a screenwriting mentor for Slamdance’s Annual Mentorship Award. Anjini has a deep reverence for cinema, beginning her morning every day at 6AM by watching a film.
