A character who agrees can't generate a scene.

Somewhere around page forty you'll find a character whose whole job is to agree. She asks the question your protagonist needs to answer. She nods at the plan. She says we should go, right after he says we should go. She's the reason a reader sets your script down without naming what's wrong.

Drama is two people wanting different things in the same room, and the moment one of them stops wanting, you're writing an information transfer with names attached. The test is fast and brutal. Take her lines away and give them to nobody. If the scene still delivers everything the story needs, she was unneeded.

Watch what Jaws does with this. Peter Benchley and Carl Gottlieb put three men on a boat who agree about nothing. Brody's afraid of the water, Hooper trusts his instruments, Quint trusts the sixty years he's spent hating them both. The Indianapolis speech only lands because the two men listening have spent an hour refusing to defer to him. If Hooper nodded along, that scene is a monologue. Because he doesn't, it's a truce.

Jordan Peele does the same thing quietly in Get Out. Rod is the friend, and the friend's job in most scripts is to reassure. Peele makes him the only person who's right, and he's right loudly, and everyone including the audience waves him off. That disagreement is what makes the last twenty minutes unbearable in the good way.

You don't fix a yes character by handing her attitude. You fix her by giving her a want that costs your protagonist something. Let her be right about the wrong thing. Let her need him to fail. Let her walk out of the room.

Every person in a scene should be losing something by being there.