Different theories about screenwriting structure are nothing more than different ways to analyze the same end result. Aristotle, Joseph Campbell and Syd Field are essentially saying the same thing. Still it doesn't hurt to hear it again, to put on a new pair of shoes in a different color and walk through a troubled script in a fresh new direction.

Last week I attended a screenwriting discussion group with actor/writer Wendell Wellman (Firefox, Sudden Impact) as guest moderator. We dissected the Oscar nominated script An Education using concepts from Wellman's 2002 book, A Writer's Roadmap.

I was surprised an action writer was able to so easily apply his concepts to a female coming-of-age period romantic drama. His analysis of An Education was completely different from how I saw the movie, but it made sense and opened my eyes to how to fix some problems in a true crime thriller I'm currently working on.

I can't discuss what I learned about An Education without giving away major spoilers, so I decided instead to analyze the raunchy 2007 teen sex comedy Superbad using tools I picked up from Wellman.

First, Wellman differentiates between premise and theme. Kind of basic stuff here, but many writers fail to ask themselves what their movie is really about. The premise can be stated in the form of the question: Can some hero solve some problem? In Superbad, that would be, simplistically: Can self-centered Seth and mild-mannered Evan scheme together to "get with" Jules and Helen (renamed Becca for the movie) before college?

The theme is what the movie is really about. In this case, it's survival of friendship. Seth and Evan have been best friends for as long as they can remember. But Seth didn't get accepted to the college Evan is going to and he's secretly worried how long distance will affect their friendship.

One of the basic principles in Wellman's book is that the first act is the hero's argument, the second act is the enemy's argument, and the third act is the author's argument.

In Superbad, exactly who to label "hero" and "enemy" can be debated. However, the first thirty pages are tightly focused on Seth literally arguing his plan for the two of them to use their friend Fogell and his fake ID to get liquor so they can get Jules and Helen drunk enough to have sex with them.

At every step along their second act journey, Evan's approach to overcoming an obstacle always opposes Seth's. Their biggest bone of contention, however, comes when Evan decides he wants to just tell Helen he likes her rather than try to get her drunk. This is not only the crux of Evan's argument, but it is the script's midpoint, where Evan stands up to Seth and then abandons him, irrevocably shifting the balance of power between them.

Evan will now follow his own convictions for the rest of their journey, right up to page 86, when they arrive at the party and it's time for each man to play out his own argument. The third act sees both methods fail so the authors, who also happen to be named Seth and Evan, can then step in with their argument for how their alter egos should have gone about winning the girls, which can only occur after they've resolved the thematic issue of how the boys will maintain their friendship going forward.

It's an interesting way of looking at the three act structure. And who knew you could learn something from McLovin!

Dan Margules is a Los Angeles based screenwriter. His award-winning short film, Begleiter, is available in a Special Edition from Amazon.com or happy-the-dog.com. He was also a music journalist and co-founded and was president of San Diego Filmmakers.