Tick Tock: How Time Boundaries Make a Better Movie

Imagine waking up to catch an early flight, only to realize you’ve slept in. Suddenly, your morning has gone from the simple pain of getting to the airport to the very big pain of racing to the airport, only to have missed your flight and be stuck there til the next flight.

If this was a movie, what could happen next?

Our protagonist misses their flight and gets stuck in the airport, only to … reconcile with their estranged father? See a mob hit happen in the bathroom? Fall in love over a $22 sandwich?

When the clock’s ticking, the pressure is on. And that means the simplest stories can get very juicy, very quickly. By putting your characters in a time-bound situation, they’re forced to do all the same things they’d normally do—have flaws that need fixing, go on a journey of self-discovery, and emerge anew for the better or worse.

Let’s take a look at some films that succeed despite taking place within a concrete time frame:

Dog Day Afternoon: It’s August 22, 1972. Sonny and his buddies try to rob a bank. The plan immediately fails, and Sonny goes wild, triggering a tense hostage negotiation as we learn that Sonny wanted the money to pay for their partner’s surgery. Based on a true story, the film becomes not just an actor’s playground for Al Pacino, but a vibrant and volatile portrayal of a desperate man taking desperate measures.

Collateral: This Michael Mann-helmed neo-noir involves a cab driver offered a huge sum of money to drive a guy in a suit to different locations over the course of one night. Except these locations are actually hits, and this man in a suit is a hitman on a contract killing spree who takes the cab driver hostage.  

Do the Right Thing: One extremely hot day in Bed-Stuy kicks off an engrossing tale that examines race relations through the lens of the neighborhood’s African-American and Italian-American residents and business owners, culminating in tragedy. Fun fact: director-writer-actor Spike Lee was inspired by both real events at Howard Beach in Queens and hearing that heat led to more violent acts.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off: Charismatic Ferris has a severe case of senioritis and wants his bestie and girlfriend to join him in playing hooky and seeing the sights of Chicago. While the school’s administration is skeptical and on the case, the three traverse through the city. And in a rarer case of the titular character actually being the catalyst for someone else to change—in this case, bestie Cameron—all that character growth happens over the course of a single day.

Doctor Strangelove: A mentally unwell American general named Jack D. Ripper orders a nuclear strike on the Soviet Union. Now what? What convenes is a war room of politicians, military leaders, and a Russian diplomat who all frantically, comedically try to stop the bomb from going off and unleashing nuclear war. While it’s a parody of Cold War fears, it’s—very unfortunately!—still relevant.

My Dinner with Andre: He’s having dinner with Andre. Esoteric conversations ensue.

Now, all of those films take place within 24 hours. But what about an even shorter timeline?

Clerks covers the goings-on of a single work day, while After Hours and American Graffiti both take place over the course of one evening. Airplane! is just one flight. Similarly, The Menu is just one dinner (albeit a bloody one). Run, Lola, Run technically happens within 20 minutes, but the restarting timeline shows how fate and free will intersect to create alternative futures.

A House of Dynamite showcases the same 18 minutes from several different viewpoints. Likewise, Clue shows us multiple endings to the same evening.

So, why should you consider reducing the timeframe on your script? Or, why should you rethink your idea to fit within a specific timeframe?

To start with, the shorter the timeline, the higher the intensity. If someone has three months before they’re kicked out of their house, that’s a lot more time to find the money to keep living there than, say, three days. If you can sell your car, find a job, or gamble your way to victory in three days, it’s a lot more impressive—and anxiety-inducing. Condense the timeline even further: if someone only had three hours to secure a massive sum of money, how might that go? The more you decrease the time, the more you increase the stakes.

Secondly, having a shorter timeframe forces character growth and inventive storytelling. When there’s less time for a character to dillydally, it requires them to make snap judgments. Even if those decisions aren’t good for them, their actions lead them to self-discovery in a shorter amount of time. Not every story wants or needs this, but some stories definitely do.

For example, in High Noon—which takes place in real time—an honorable town marshal has his sense of duty tested when he has to make a choice: either gun down a gang of killers on their way over, or leave town with his new Quaker wife. On the flip side, Rashomon shows the flashbacks and testimonies of various characters about the death of a samurai. By juxtaposing everyone’s different perspectives against each other, both characters and plot details are revealed.

Finally, one period of time means cutting (some) costs. Shooting a film in a single location is still probably going to be cheaper. But if everyone has just one outfit, one restaurant location, one bedroom, and so on, it can absolutely halve the costs. And as we all know, the smaller the proposed budget, the chances for a sale go up.

Much like contained scripts, time-bound movies can yield uniquely interesting stories and characters—all you have to do is make sure it fits in the allotted time.

*Featured photo Dog Day Afternoon (Warner Bros)