That post made me think about the movie director Howard Hawks. Someone asked him once to define what made a great movie. His answer was, "Three great scenes, no bad ones."
I've seen this cited in a few different articles about movies, but there are times when I think the writer has missed the point. It doesn't say "three great big scenes," after all. Sometimes the great scenes aren't the big ones, the ones which drive the plot. Sometimes they're the quiet ones in between.
My response to Martin's post said:
One example would be the Lord of the Rings movies. The big battle scenes are really big -- lots of special effects and digitally-created crowds and things flying through the air and whatnot -- but the scenes I remember the best are the conversations. Sam and Frodo, Aragorn and Eowyn, Pippin and Gandalf, Aragorn and Theoden.
Here are two examples from Hawks' movies:
In To Have and Have Not, the plot involves whether Bogart's character will take a dangerous job because he needs money, but the movie is only petending to be a thriller – it's a love story (in dangerous conditions) between Bogart's character and Lauren Bacall's. Her character has nothing to do with the plot, but the scenes between the two of them, with Hawks' usual crackling sharp dialogue (provided in this case by Jules Furthman and William Faulkner), are what people remember about the movie. I'm sure there are fans who could quote the Bogart/Bacall scenes from memory but couldn't tell you where the movie even took place.
In Rio Bravo, the plot involves whether a dangerious gang can lay siege to Sheriff John Chance's jail and free their cohort, who's being held for murder. The movie sets this situation up and then proceeds to ignore it for an hour, entertaining us with various interactions between Chance and his few (and very flawed) associates. (This was the model for the Avengers movie, BTW, where all the good parts involve scenes between the various heroes while the villain is in their custody.)
One thread that runs throughout Rio Bravo is that Chance's long-time deputy, Dude, has become an alcoholic, and will he be able to keep it together under the pressure of the siege? This is a fairly light-hearted movie, but this question is treated very seriously throughout (and without easy or pat answers), and the scenes between John Wayne (who plays the Sheriff) and Dean Martin (who plays Dude) are the best in the picture, though they don't have much to do with the mechanics of the plot.
Ther's one scene, near the end, which may be the best in the picture. Dude has failed. He's been captured, humiliated, and (in his mind, at least) replaced as deputy, and he's decided he really isn't any good any more (professional competence is always huge in Hawks pictures). He's sitting in the sheriff's office, about to take a drink The others are watching him, not about to say anything or interfere, and he pours the drink. Then, as he's about to drink it, he hears the "Deguello" music from outside. That's the music the bad guys are playing to remind them of the hopelessness of their situation. And, with an absolutely steady hand, Dude pours the drink back into the bottle.
It's a very quiet scene, with almost no dialogue, no big speeches or action, and it doesn't have a huge impact on the plot (Dude's decision doesn't determine how things go after that, and in fact he's taken prisoner again before the end), but it is a great scene.
I'm always leery of the advice I read here and there to get rid of any scene in a story that doesn't advance the plot. You could very easily end up with a very efficient engine that goes straight ahead, never slowing to look at the scenery and never turning to follow any interesting side roads.