Who’s in Charge (of a Film)?
- Déborah Braun
- Nov 17
- 2 min read
It’s quite common for a screenwriter to be surprised, or even shocked, at just how different the finished film is from the script they wrote. Scenes have been moved, cut, altered by the set, the actors, the director, the editor, the sound, the music…Yet the script remains the reference point for making the film, running through it from start to finish. It is the film’s totem. But while the script “creates” the film, it does not lock it in place. On the contrary, it must give it momentum.
So if the screenwriter and their script aren’t at the helm of the film, who is? Is it the director? The producer?
Personally, I have always believed it’s not a matter of professional hierarchy, but of loyalty to the material. On a film, more than working for a company or for someone, you work for the film. The film is the real boss.
That means first serving the internal coherence and intent of the script, and rising above ego battles. That doesn’t prevent creative proposals, in fact it’s quite the opposite. Offering ideas and enriching the story is our job. But these proposals must be driven by the intention of the narrative and the material; otherwise, you end up with dispersion rather than strength. To serve the film is to accompany it with rigour, listen to it, test it, and adjust it as much as necessary.
As a former editor, I know the editor experiences this every day. Reading the script, then the rushes, then editing, is not about forcing the image onto the written word, but about understanding its translation and seeking its next level. Some takes “demand” that we follow them, others resist and must be left aside. You need perspective, flexibility, and precise guidance to let the film emerge, already there but still hidden. Forcing a scene to be something other than what it is after shooting almost always leads to a dead end.
And it’s the same at every stage of making a film: script/childhood, shooting/adolescence, editing/adulthood.
Trusting the film so that it can flourish is not a passive stance, but a discipline, a way of seeing. It requires precision in choices, clarity of intentions, and a demand for coherence. It is an art of listening, to the subtle signals present in images and sounds that build the film.
“The film will tell you what it needs. If you listen, it’s there.” Walter Murch



