Banks brings up a great point about Mamet and how what's not being said is as important as his snappy patter. Schwartz gets into this too -- the idea about the tip to cut off the last exchange is a keeper. (One thing that I really like experimenting with stylistically is not writing the big moments where a character dies, or a secret is revealed, but the moments right before and right after. That's where the real drama is.)
I have to disagree with Hammerhead, though, about Mamet. I think one of the reasons he's so great is that each character has a distinct way of speaking yet he manages to make it seem like it's part of a similar whole. I think part of that also comes with the fact that Mamet's characters all seem to live in similar, related worlds, (i.e., the guys in Glengarry aren't too far removed from the con artists in House of Games), and so it seems like there's overlap. But I think that, to use Glengarry as an example, Levine talks differently from Moss talks differently from Roma talks differently from Alan Arkin talks differently from Jonathan Pryce and so forth and so on, but everybody says fuck so it blends together. A lot of that has to do with the acting, though.
I'll agree with Patrick that not only is having some basic familiarity with acting processes important (and acting classes is something I'd like to do myself), but I'd argue that it's essential, even if you're writing a short story or a novel, to hear your work (or, as I like to refer to it, your shit) read aloud. In the case of films/television/plays, performed, even if it's by close friends who are actors. Doing so can let you know if what you are trying to convey comes across on the page (I'm a big fan of the Atlantic and other more modern schools of acting, which say that the text should be your primary source for all information), not just in terms of rhythm, but emotion. If you don't have actor friends, get some.
Two examples:
1. Yada yada yada I wrote and directed a movie. I'm like Schwartz in that I go for the musicality of the thing, like Mamet or Sorkin or even Whedon*, but I'm not comparing myself to those guys, either. However, my shit does have a distinct rhythm, I hear the phrasing as I write them, and it was really fascinating on set to see who automatically picked up the rhythms, and who struggled with it. There were people who got it instantly, pauses and all, and there were others who would throw out lines and make shit up instead. The ones that I would kill to work with again, though, are the folks who got the rhythms (and the majority of them actually had Atlantic** training), but were still able to make it sound fresh and new. It also sold me on the benefits of rehearsing, really rehearsing, before showing up to shoot.
2. Yada yada yada I wrote a podcast radio drama, first episode is online, blah blah blah fishcakes. Writing this may come back as this discussion continues, as it's all aural, being radio, so there's a much, much greater reliance on dialogue. Anyway, in the first podcast, there's a moment at the end where a character says goodbye to another character. Two words: "Bye, Mandy." But what she's doing is she's acknowledging that she's sending her friend off to her death, and saying goodbye to her to the last time. When I wrote it, I wrote it like this:
DIEDRE (to herself): Bye, Mandy.
How was it delivered? A very flat, very simple "Bye, Mandy." Which, when I heard it, didn't convey the emotion I wanted at all. I spoke to the other actor who was playing Mandy (and was in the room at the time it was recorded), and she said she felt that the emotion was conveyed during the recording. She also mentioned that the actor in question was an actor who did a lot of physical things, and not necessarily vocal ones.
Whose fault was this? The actor's? The director's? Maybe -- but I think that it was my fault. In film, you're told never to give an actor direction about emotion (parentheticals) unless absolutely necessary, and in theatre/radio, you see a lot of stage direction, a lot of "as ifs..." You need to -- you need to assure that the dialogue is being delivered with its intent, especially if you're writing something (as in theatre) that's going to be performed in productions you have no creative control over. So that's something I keep in mind as I continue to write episodes of this series.
But each project is different, and so what may require clever Sorkin-esque dialogue one time may require Altman-esque naturalistic dialogue another. It depends on the characters. In which case: see figuring out how those characters talk.
Wow. That was really rewarding. Great thread.
*I recently completed a short screenplay in which a college-aged Joss Whedon and Michael Bay team up to learn about movies and fight crime, and one of the joys of doing that was being able to ape Whedon wholesale. Not exact dialogue, mind you, but writing Joss Whedon talking like a Joss Whedon character was a lot of fun.
**The Mamet/Macy school.