Six Oscar-contending screenwriters gathered on a rainy November morning to discuss trauma, grief, and the craft of turning personal pain into cinematic gold.
The Hollywood Reporter’s Writers Roundtable brought together an eclectic group: Guillermo del Toro (Frankenstein), Bradley Cooper (Is This Thing On?), Clint Bentley (Train Dreams), Hikari (Rental Family), Will Tracy (Bugonia), and Noah Oppenheim (A House of Dynamite).
What emerged was a masterclass in screenwriting that revealed how dialogue becomes music, grief transforms into art, and silence speaks louder than words.
The conversation touched everything from writing on phones to dealing with writer’s block to the moment when a screenplay finally stops evolving.
Personal Trauma Fuels Powerful Storytelling
All six screenplays featured in this year’s roundtable share a common thread: trauma and grief.
For Bentley, Train Dreams became a vessel for processing devastating loss. He created the film shortly after losing both parents in quick succession.
I wanted to show the audience that grief never leaves you and you always walk with a limp after it.
Bentley explained how holding his newborn child while mourning his parents created a profound tension. Joy and sorrow coexisted, each making the other more acute.
Hikari’s Rental Family draws from an equally painful childhood experience. At age seven, she discovered her father hadn’t died as her mother claimed—he’d left them for another woman.
My mom lied to me about my father’s death: I was told my dad was dead. But when I was 7, I was outside jump roping, and this woman was like, ‘Do you know where your dad went?’ I said, ‘He’s dead.’ She said, ‘No, he left you for another woman.’
Del Toro’s 50-year journey with Frankenstein began at age 11 when he first read Mary Shelley’s novel. The project became deeply personal after his father’s kidnapping and his mother’s death.
Dialogue As Music: The Rhythm Behind Great Scenes
Cooper described dialogue as “the heroin” of screenwriting—the element that makes writers feel like they’re flying.
I’ve always loved the rhythm of conversations, and the thing I love to write most is dialogue. The pauses are just as much dialogue as the words.
Del Toro agreed, noting that dialogue functions as music with its own rhythm and cadence. He pointed to Cooper’s work and Bentley’s Train Dreams as prime examples.
In Frankenstein, del Toro structured the Creature’s dialogue to mirror his intellectual development. Jacob Elordi’s character begins with single words—”Victor,” “Elizabeth,” “friend”—before gaining more complex speech.
The more he learns concepts, the more pain he gains. If you find a voice, you find the character.
Bentley offered a contrasting perspective. Despite loving dialogue, he constantly searches for ways to eliminate it.
Images can communicate what words cannot. In the editing room, he discovered that much of what seemed essential on the page became redundant on screen.
The Writer’s Block Paradox: Stuck or Just Procrastinating?
Del Toro posed a crucial question to the group: How do you deal with writer’s block?
Cooper questioned whether writer’s block even exists—or if it’s just elaborate procrastination masquerading as creative struggle.
I was thinking, what’s the difference? Is it writer’s block or am I just really procrastinating? That’s the dilemma I always have.
Tracy identified his block as paralysis by infinite possibilities. Standing at a crossroads with eight potential paths forward creates anxiety about choosing the wrong direction.
Oppenheim learned to “surf through” the discomfort rather than panic. Early in his career, dry spells ruined his life for days—making him irritable and short with his family.
Now he recognizes these rough patches as inevitable parts of the process.
Del Toro’s solution? Read dialogue aloud. Once you’ve achieved something close to finished, hearing the words reveals structural cracks that remained invisible on the page.
When Does Writing Actually Stop?
The question of when the writing process ends sparked immediate agreement from del Toro.
When the Blu-ray comes out.
Bentley echoed this sentiment. Writing continues through every stage—from pre-production through editing and beyond.
One of del Toro’s favorite lines in Frankenstein emerged during post-production. When the Creature carries Mia down the stairs, del Toro realized she needed to say, “take me with you.”
The line came from a childhood dream about his father boarding a train for the dead. Young Guillermo ran after it shouting those exact words.
Cooper learned from Leonard Bernstein to separate thinking from executing. Bernstein composed lying prone on his couch, only getting up to write once ideas crystallized.
The Research That Brings Authenticity
Hikari bases her writing on deep character research. Once she identifies who she wants to explore, she digs into their world—their job, their motivations, their daily reality.
Oppenheim’s A House of Dynamite depicts 18 minutes inside Strategic Command as nuclear crisis unfolds. The matter-of-fact tone came directly from military consultants.
The people who work in that room in Strategic Command, they told us they rehearse that scenario 400 times a year. The general has thought about this every day, twice a day, so for him, it’s another day at the office.
That mundane reality—coffee orders, snacks, procedural phone calls—creates tension precisely because it doesn’t feel apocalyptic to the characters.
Tracy noted how this focus on ordinary details makes audiences realize: “Oh yeah, there’s 18 minutes, it’s everything, but it’s coming right after breakfast.”
Structure: The Invisible Foundation
Oppenheim described A House of Dynamite as a math equation and puzzle. The same 18 minutes unfold from three perspectives, requiring meticulous cross-referencing.
Background dialogue barely noticeable in the first telling becomes central in subsequent versions. Building this clockwork machine demanded linear construction.
Bentley faced different structural challenges adapting Denis Johnson’s stream-of-consciousness novel Train Dreams. The book meanders through time, with the protagonist dying on page 86 of a 116-page story.
I wanted to find a structure that could work for the film without losing the wooliness of the story and the wooliness of life where it feels episodic at times and people come in and drift out of our lives.
Del Toro praised both approaches, emphasizing that structure should be invisible yet precise. Big decisions happen in structural planning—and those choices determine whether emotion lands.
The Improvisation Debate
Cooper admitted something controversial among filmmakers: he hates watching two people just improvise.
I remember Todd Phillips said it. He is like, ‘I’ve written this, so you think what you’re going to come up with right now is better?’
However, Cooper creates space for improvisation only after working ferociously on the script and exploring every avenue. That preparation allows actors to feel safe playing within boundaries.
Tracy emphasized that successful improvisation requires actors to play situations straight. When performers chase comedy rather than emotional truth, scenes fall flat.
The best directors and actors understand: Play the reality, and humor emerges organically from circumstance.
Where and How These Writers Work
The rapid-fire closing questions revealed diverse writing habits:
Location preferences:
- Cooper: The sofa with his laptop
- Hikari: Bed—”I can’t do desk”
- Del Toro: Anywhere except his five desks
- Oppenheim: Actually at his desk
- Tracy: Bed, sofa, or desk—wherever inspiration strikes
Sound requirements:
- Cooper needs Pat McAfee’s ESPN show playing at low volume
- Del Toro creates playlists for each screenplay—”like a mix tape for a girl”
- Tracy always writes to music; television production taught him to work in crew transportation
- Bentley avoids music entirely because it influences tone too much
- Oppenheim and Hikari require complete silence
Cooper even downloaded Final Draft to his phone for occasional mobile writing sessions. Hikari does the same specifically for dialogue.
Scripts That Impressed Them Most
When asked about 2025 scripts outside their own work, the writers celebrated bold choices and structural innovation:
Tracy praised Ari Aster’s Eddington for tackling COVID head-on when everyone else avoided the subject. Creating a three-hour epic set in spring 2020 required courage.
Cooper loved One Battle After Another for refusing to mark time progression—audiences simply figure out chronology as events unfold.
Del Toro selected No Other Choice (based on Donald Westlake’s novel The Ax) for mixing horror with humor while maintaining flawless dialogue.
Oppenheim admired Sinners and everything at the table, particularly praising Train Dreams while celebrating anyone taking big swings on original material.
Dream Scripts From Cinema History
Asked which historical screenplay they wished they’d written, the answers revealed each writer’s sensibilities:
- Oppenheim: Dr. Strangelove
- Tracy: Graham Greene’s script for The Third Man—genre thriller meets post-war meditation
- Del Toro: The Train by Walter Bernstein—perfect marriage of genre and theme
- Cooper: Beverly Hills Cop—”That’s comedy, everybody”
- Bentley: Eric Roth’s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button for its structural echoes
- Hikari: Anything by Yorgos Lanthimos (especially The Favourite) or Park Chan-wook
Del Toro also championed Midnight Run, while Cooper’s joke suggestion of Beverly Hills Cop 2 drew laughs around the table.