Hey guys. No Amateur Offerings this week because in two weeks, we’re doing an all dialogue week, including on Amateur Friday’s slot. However, I know a bunch of you are frustrated that your script still hasn’t appeared on Offerings. Well, now’s the time to pitch it. Pitch us your genre, title, logline and ‘why we should read’ right here in the comments, and the always awesome Scriptshadow Community will check them out. Scriptshadow Community – This means you get to play Executive today. Pretend these queries are being sent to you. Would you read them? Are any good enough that you’ve actually taken the time to download the script and open it? If so, let the reader know. If not, tell the reader why.
Genre (from writer): Satirical Dark Comedy
Premise (from writer): When his girlfriend becomes an overnight movie star, a lady shoes salesman must now become famous or he risks turning into the next Kevin Federline.
Why You Should Read: Everyone nowadays dreams of becoming famous. You hit upload, wait around like a child on Christmas Eve, only for someone to eventually gift you a “like” on social media. Our melting pot is currently overflowing with fame whores who move to Hollywood, begging her to make their dreams come true. — As a fame whore myself, let me tell you… life is tough, life in Hollywood is impossible. — Imagine being one of the few in Hollywood who’s not a fame whore. You finally meet the only “great girl” in town, and then somehow you get her to fall for you. Sounds like a perfect Hollywood ending, right? But the only things in Hollywood that have Hollywood endings are Hollywood movies. — Your “great girl” lands the lead in the biggest movie in the world, becoming the next Jennifer Lawrence overnight. You sell ladies shoes. The “great girl” thinks that’s fine, and loves you for you… but the world thinks that makes you a loser, the next Kevin Federline. — Your name is Ernest Pope, and #TRENDING is your story. It’s a satirical dark R-rated comedy.
Writer: James L. Leary
Details: 109 pages
Suki Waterhouse for Molly?
My initial impression of #trending was, “Catchy title.” It’s something that can be overlooked in the process, the title. But when everything else is equal and your script is on the table with several others, it may well be the catchy title that gets your script read.
Here, the “#” sign gives the title an untraditional but intriguing look, and “trending,” ironically, is a trendy word on the internet, so it’s no surprise that it grabbed more attention on Amateur Offerings than generic titles like, “Watching Over Remie” and “Treasure of Fate.” And I’m not saying anything about the quality of those scripts. I’m just saying “#trending” stands out as a title.
Now before I read the script, I have to admit I did a little pre-judging. Readers always do, despite the best of intentions. This was called #trending, implying some light fun faire, yet when I opened the script, I saw 110 pages. Ugh. That long? Really? This feels much closer to a 100 page idea. So I’m already on the writer’s case, even before I’ve read a word. If I see anything here that feels like it’s dragging, I’m going to be thinking, “Yup, I knew it. I knew the script was too long.” I don’t say this bitterly. I just want writers to know what’s going on in a reader’s head when they pick up a script so they can avoid making the same mistake. With that said, I hope I’m wrong, and that #trending is #trending tomorrow on Twitter, which would be so meta.
24 year old woman’s shoe salesman Ernest Pope is a lucky man. He happens to have found love with Molly Taylor, an out-of-his-league aspiring actress who’s doing a lot more aspiring than acting. How Ernest landed Molly is anyone’s guess, but it’s clear she loves him more than anything. For now, that is.
While dining at a Chinese food dump, the couple are bombarded by the paparazzi, who start snapping Molly’s photo and yelling her name. After narrowly escaping photographic death, the two learn that Molly’s landed the role of a lifetime, in a new novel adaptation called “Dawn,” where she’ll co-star with meaty heartthrob Channing Tatum.
I think we know where this is going. Cut to the premiere 9 months later and while Molly and Ernest are still together, he’s getting increasingly insecure. Rumors of an on-set romance between Molly and Channing are everywhere. And the public loves it. They’d much rather celebrate a Molly-Channing coupling than anything to do with this Ernest loser. I mean, the guy has a mustache!
Eventually, the two drift apart, and Ernest’s best friend, Juan Camacho, convinces Ernest that the only way to get Molly back is to become famous too. The quickest route to fame, of course, is to become an actor. With a little luck, Ernest gets a small part in a movie, and when the director’s a dick on-set, he pulls a Christian Bale and goes nuts.
The rant goes viral and, what do you know! Ernest is famous! Well, famous in that cheap internet sort of way. But everyone knows who he is now. This gives him the confidence to rekindle his romance with Molly, but Molly can see that Ernest has turned into a fame whore and leaves him. Ernest uses his fleeting fame to bang a lot of girls, but (major spoiler) he eventually is killed by fucking too much. The End.
#trending started out great. Every character introduced popped off the page. There were these weird asides (a male Sexy Santa contest) that had nothing to do with anything but were still hilarious. I loved James’s portrayal and deep-seated hatred of hipsters (drinking coconut water and standing by their vespas). And there’s this great “doggy bag moment” where we learn all about the thirty mile zone (the acronym for TMZ), which was fascinating. I said to myself, if he can keep this up, we have ourselves a winner.
But as is so often the case with amateur work, it didn’t keep up. The first time I blinked was Molly’s instant-fame moment. People find her at the Chinese restaurant because TMZ tweeted out she just won the Dawn role. But I didn’t know she was even up for the role. Come to think of it, I didn’t see her go up for any roles. I’d forgotten she was an actress. So this came out of nowhere, giving the scene that awkward “did I miss something” feel to it.
From there we make a nine month time jump. You guys know how I feel about huge time jumps in the middle of screenplays. I understand why James did it – he wanted to get to the Dawn premiere, where the fame would be at its highest. But coming on the heels of the sloppy Dawn role reveal, it felt like double sloppy joes to me.
From there on, the script had major structural issues. Molly sort of breaks up with Ernest, although it’s unclear if that’s what really happened or not, leaving the narrative in a confused purgatoric state. I mean if it was a break-up, we know he must get her back. If not, we know he’s got to keep her around. But if it’s neither, we don’t know what he’s supposed to do.
From there, Juan Comacho comes up with this idea that Ernest needs to become a movie star to get Molly back. That’s where the script officially lost me. Not only was I unsure if he and Molly were actually broken up, but now he and his friend are just making up rules for how this is going to work. When there’s no evidence that Molly even cares whether Ernest becomes famous or not, creating an entire section where Ernest pursues fame is strange. There’s zero stakes attached to that choice.
This is what structure is. It’s creating strong goals with high stakes, so that whatever portion of the script we’re in, something important is happening. Your hero is going after something and there are major consequences to not getting that something. When the importance of those goals becomes muddled – if we’re not even sure that what our characters are doing matters – the script is dead.
If I were James, I’d stick with the opening, which is good. Just make sure we know Molly’s an actress trying out for big roles. Then, once Molly gets famous, I wouldn’t jump forward 9 months. You can create everything you got from the 9 month jump right here in the present. If you want Channing Tatum in the mix , maybe he wants to meet Molly so they can start “going over their lines.” This results in paparazzi photos of the two together a lot, which starts screwing with Ernest and Molly’s relationship. I actually think it’s funnier if you show all these Dawn fans going crazy NOW instead of once the movie premieres. It shows how freaking crazy they are (“Who are these people?? The movie hasn’t even shot yet!”).
From there, you follow the traditional formula that’s worked for a hundred years. Molly leaves him and he has to get her back. I don’t think the becoming an actor thing works. It appears out of nowhere (he had no acting ambitions prior to this) and therefore feels lazy (“made up on the spot” syndrome). It might be funnier if he tries to become an internet star. That’s such a crazy world and it hasn’t been fully explored in movies yet, giving you the opportunity to really do something original. If he tried to figure out the top 10 most famous internet people and replicate their success (he tries auto-tuning himself, kitten videos, saving a kidnapped woman from a home, a la Charles Ramsey), there could be something there.
I’m just spit-balling. You’ll want to come up with your own solution to this. Because the truth is, James, you’re a funny guy. Your first 20 pages had me lol’ing a ton. You just have to build a stronger narrative into the second and third acts. I wish you luck, my friend. Thanks for letting me and the rest of the world trend with you for a couple of hours.
Script link: #trending
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I want writers to know that when they submit a weird combination of words for their script’s genre, I immediately know it’s an amateur. It’s a huge red flag. The accepted genres are: comedy, period, fantasy, sci-fi, action, thriller, drama, biopic, sports, romantic comedy, black comedy (or ‘dark comedy’) and then there are some accepted derivations. Buddy comedy, action-thriller, science-fiction horror. What you don’t want to do is start using strange combinations of these words and then adding your own twist to them. “Satirical Dark Comedy” should just be “Dark Comedy.” Likewise, you shouldn’t submit things like, “Elevated Science Fiction” or “Coming-of-Age Dramedy.” Even if your script doesn’t fit perfectly within one of these genre tags, it’s better to use that tag than create your own.
note: For Thursday’s article, “Matt and Ben Are Bad People,” scroll down.
Yesterday’s dialogue experiment was such a success, I want to do an entire week of them. Your dialogue scenes versus the pros. Here’s how it’s going to work. Send your dialogue scene to carsonreeves3@gmail.com with the subject line “ME VS. PRO.” It needs to be 3 pages or less. Set the scene up briefly. Who the key characters are, what happened before the scene, and any important plot information we need to understand the scene. I’ll pick five of these scenes and find pro scene counterparts for us to compare to. I may do this next week or the week after, so get your scenes in quick!
Screenwriters not allowed.
Matt Damon and Ben Affleck came onto the scene in a unique way. They weren’t the typical “new kid on the block” pretty-boy actors when their surprise hit, Good Will Hunting, took Hollywood by storm. They also WROTE their script. And they didn’t just write it. They LABORED over it. For years. And in the end, all that laboring paid off as they won a screenwriting Oscar and became perennial movie stars in the film industry.
A few years later, they wanted to give back to the screenwriting community. So they developed a cutting edge project called Project Greenlight, which would try to find the next great script and make a film out of it. I remember this time well. It was the first time screenplays were submitted solely through the internet, which was a big deal. It felt like screenwriting was entering a new phase of its existence, the ‘digital’ realm. And it was symbolic. The contest was saying, “The old rules of Hollywood are dead.”
Not everything went smoothly though. Their reading process was controversial (writers submitting to the contest would also become the contest’s readers) but the contest blew up anyway. For the first time in screenwriting contest history, instead of winners getting a chunk of money and a pat on the back, Project Greenlight gave you direct access to two of the hottest names in Hollywood. Who were going to make your movie! It genuinely felt like you could become an overnight star. Which, as you know, is as rare in the screenwriting community as a genius Scriptshadow rating.
But the really cool thing? Was that these guys CARED about screenwriting. They had screenwriting’s back. What a lot of people forget is that the reason Matt and Ben started this whole contest was to prove that the Hollywood system was broke. They wanted to show that all these glossy pieces of crap Hollywood was pushing on audiences couldn’t compete with an honest-to-goodness great screenplay, something they were prepared to scour the world for.
Unfortunately, Project Greenlight didn’t go as planned. It did not result in any successful, or even particularly good, movies. Why that happened is up for debate. Was it smart to make the winning writer also a first-time director in the first season? Did the movies ever have a chance with such tiny budgets? Is it wise to make a movie about kids (11 years old in the first movie, 15 years old in the second), when kids-centered movies that aren’t special-effects driven are notoriously hard sells?
In my personal opinion, where Matt and Ben screwed up was on the sales side. I think they went in wanting to prove themselves not just with any script, but with the artsiest most non-Hollywood script they could find. And the reality is, unless you have the hottest young actor in town or your director literally directs the PERFECT film, artsy movies never do well.
Sales must ALWAYS be a part of a picking a screenplay. Can you sell this idea to an audience? If not, I don’t care how well the script’s written. No one’s going to see it. I mean did any of you see Palo Alto? It’s supposed to be good. It even stars James Franco. But it’s not a movie people race to the theater to see. So of course it’s not going to make any money. To not take that into consideration when you’re doing a contest that will result in making a movie is to hang your screenwriters out to dry.
Is this a film you would’ve gone to see?
But that was about to change with the announcement of a new Project Greenlight series on HBO. Matt and Ben had ten more years in the business. They’re smarter now. Savvier. This time when they found the next great undiscovered screenwriter, they were going to do so with a script that had a chance. Whether that be with his own script or working on an idea they came up with, the point was they were going to make screenwriting boss again.
And then I heard the news. They wouldn’t be looking for screenwriters at all. The contest was limited to directors. I couldn’t believe it. Matt and Ben had just given a big “F U” to the screenwriting community. What they were essentially saying was, “We don’t think screenwriting matters that much anymore. This is a director’s medium.”
I guess the writing was on the wall. Recently, when Damon was promoting his film, Elysium, and was asked about screenwriting, he confided that he makes his decisions these days based only on the director. That’s the lone criteria he follows when making his decision. It wasn’t clear if he even reads scripts for potential projects anymore.
The irony was thick. The two guys who were here because of screenwriting had completely turned their backs on screenwriting. But why? What’s the harm in trying to find a great writer? There’s no doubt organizing and reading 10,000 scripts is a lot harder than looking through thousands of 3 minute videos on the internet. But are you really going to let that stop you?
The reason new talent keeps breaking into Hollywood is because the old guard get fat and lazy. The things they used to do at the beginning – whether it be driving to 50 auditions a week or reading 5 scripts a day – they don’t do that anymore because it’s easier to sit on your leather couch and wait for the studio to call you with their latest offer. Gone is all that hustle that used to define you. And guess what? There’s a hungry kid out there who’s doing all those same things you used to do. And because he’s willing to do the hard work, sooner or later, he’s going to catch up to you. So I really hope this didn’t just come down to work.
But the alternative may be worse. By two men who were defined by their screenwriting prowess ignoring screenwriting in their new contest, are they admitting, in whatever indirect way, that writing for the big screen is dead? Are they saying that screenwriting doesn’t matter anymore?
With studio slates getting so slim they’re starting to resemble runway models, is the system now so small that only the same big-hitters are hired for all the films in town? And because fewer specs are needed, does that nullify the need for new writing talent coming in? And if that’s the case, why bother? Is that what Matt and Ben are saying?
They shouldn’t be saying that. Because here’s what’s going to happen. As TV writing options get better and better, and more and more good writers flee to that medium, Hollywood studios are going to find themselves smack dab in the middle of a writing talent deficit. Shit, it’s already happening. Box office is down 15 percent from last year. And I know this town. I know they’re going to blame it on everything but the writing. What they don’t realize, though, is that the more you marginalize the writer, and the smaller you make that pool of people writing your films, the more of the same you’re going to get. And audiences will always tire of the same at some point.
The one true breakout hit this summer was Guardians of the Galaxy. Something that truly felt different. And it was originally adapted by a girl who had one tiny low-ranking script on the Black List. They could have more of that if they took more chances and put more emphasis on the writing. But they’re not. Outside of Marvel – which is really only taking chances because they’re on the most notorious win streak in Hollywood history and have bajillions of dollars in their coffers – everyone’s playing it safe, not realizing that the audiences have caught up with the con. They know there’s nothing new around the corner.
How does this tie in with Matt and Ben? By only looking for directors, they’re promoting more of the same. They’re basically saying, “Who cares about the script as long as the movie looks good.”
Have you watched any short movies lately? Even the best ones, the ones that end up on best-of-the-year lists, have terrible writing. None of these directors know the first thing about characters or plotting. And I’m not saying they should. Their job is to become the best director they can be. But by only putting the emphasis on these guys and not the script, Matt and Ben have admitted that they’ve either given up on screenwriters or they don’t want to go through the hassle required to find new ones.
And I think these guys owe it to the screenwriting community to go through the hassle. They’ve learned so much from the original experiment. You now know that the script needs a marketable edge and some real money in order to stand out from a production value point of view. I don’t know if it’s too late to start the process or what, but if it is, I hope these two realize their mistake and find another way to give screenwriters a chance. It’d be nice to find the writer of the next Good Will Hunting before he hangs it up due to a lack of opportunities.
Denzel Washington approves of this screenwriting message!
No review today. Had to remove all of my nudes off iCloud. I mean technically I’m just wearing a speedo in all of them but you can never be too careful. Instead, we’re going to talk about every writer’s favorite topic. Say it with me now: DI-A-LOGUE!
Recently, I was giving notes to a young writer (we’ll call him “Nick”), and I asked Nick what he felt was his biggest weakness. “Dialogue!” he said without hesitation. “I can’t seem to get it!” Dialogue is such a tough thing to teach because a lot of it is so instinctual and situation-based. What’s right for dialogue in one scene (be subtle) may not be right for another (get to the point). But when you compare similar dialogue scenes, you start to see patterns in what works and what doesn’t. So that’s what I did for Nick. I took a guy-girl dialogue scene from his script and I compared it to a guy-girl dialogue scene from one of my favorite scripts, The Equalizer (Richard Wenk).
I’ll put Nick’s dialogue first. After you read both scenes and before you read my analysis, I want you to write down what YOU think works and doesn’t work in these two scenes. Go ahead and share those thoughts in the comments section if you have time. The idea here, today, is to learn by helping each other. I can give you my thoughts, but I’m sure there are some obvious things I’ll miss.
Nick’s story takes place in a small town. This is the 8th or 9th scene in the script. In it, 17 year old Mark is in science class, where he’s joined by attractive new girl, Rosie (also 17). Rosie just moved in from the city, and appears to be a rebellious type.
Rosie sits down next to Mark — He taps his pencil nervously.
MARK: You new here?
The abruptness catches her a little off guard.
ROSIE: Nope been here for years now. You just never noticed.
Mark freezes — Panic runs across his face.
ROSIE: I’m just playing… I’m Rosie.
MARK: Uh… Mark.
The class dumps the RED beaker into the GREEN.
ROSIE: I just moved here from Chicago.
MARK: Cubs or White sox?
Rosie feigns a smile.
ROSIE: Couldn’t care less.
She grabs the Blue beaker and dumps it into the Red beaker — This is why you pay attention. The silence draws out the awkwardness.
MARK: I hear… There’s great shopping up in… Chicago.
Mark’s nerves are getting the best of him — The beaker starts to steam a little.
ROSIE: Well it’s nothing compared to here… You know, with Wal-mart and Aunt Annie’s boutique.
Mark can tell she hates it here.
MARK: Yeah I guess it’s… Kind of a culture shock.
ROSIE: You could say that… More like landing on another planet.
MARK: In that case, welcome.
Rosie laughs a little, not sure if he’s a dork or just nervous. The rest of the class pours the BLUE beaker slowly.
ROSIE: So what do you do for fun around here and please don’t say the fair?
Mark draws a blank.
ROSIE: There’s got to be something.
Mark searches the room — He looks down at his backpack, his glove sticking out — Don’t talk about baseball — He looks ahead to the KID in front of him — He’s wearing a CUBS jersey — NO BASEBALL — Finally the window catches his eye.
MARK: I… Like to watch the storms come in.
Now let’s look at the scene from The Equalizer. In this one, McCall, a sort of washed-up former military man, is at a late-night diner he frequents, reading Old Man and The Sea. Teri, a hooker he sometimes sees in the diner, walks up. It’s important to note that the setup for the scene is a little different. Unlike in our previous scene, these two have met before.
TERI (OS): He catch the fish yet?
McCall glances up. Teri THE HOOKER pulling her earphones out. Pretty, late 20s. Few tats peeking out from her dress.
MCCALL: Just hooked it.
TERI: About time.
MCCALL: It’s a big fish. Don’t know if he can hang on to it though.
TERI (playful): Oh no.
MCCALL: Tooth and nail right now.
TERI: Maybe he’s too old.
McCall nods. They’re quiet for a while. Teri takes a bite of her apple pie.
MCCALL: Thought you were going to stop eating all that refined sugar.
TERI (with a mouthful): I am.
MCCALL: When?
TERI: Any day now.
MCCALL: Bad for the vocal cords.
Teri looks away sheepishly.
MCCALL (CONT’D): How’s the singing?
She shrugs.
TERI: Got myself a little machine to do demos. We’ll see.
MCCALL: Bet you’re good.
TERI: What makes you think that?
MCCALL: Intuition.
Teri smiles her first real smile. She shoulders her tote and starts for the door.
TERI: Lemme know what happens next.
The first thing I noticed about Nick’s scene was that the dialogue begins in a way that’s likely to induce on-the-nose conversation. “You new here?” We’re talking about exactly what’s going on. An unknown person just showed up. “You new here?” is too obvious. Now Rosie does follow this up with a sarcastic joke, saying she’s been here for years but he just never noticed, which is good, but the precedent has been set. The next line is Rosie introducing herself (on the nose). He then tells her his name (on the nose). She then says she’s from Chicago. Even if the characters are joking around, livening up this dialogue, it’s still stuck in that “on-the-nose” quicksand that’s hard to pull good dialogue out of.
Now let’s look at The Equalizer. What’s the first line there? “He catch the fish yet?” Ahhhh! Now we have a fun opening line, something for the characters to play with. They’re not talking on-the-nose, even though they easily could’ve. Wenk could’ve started with, “Haven’t seen you here in awhile” or “How you doing?” Both of these lines invite dialogue that will likely devolve into an on-the-nose conversation. Instead, we’re zipping into a fun subtextual conversation that allows the two to subtly flirt with one another.
One of the reasons The Equalizer dialogue is so good is because it revolves around a subject that has nothing to do with our characters – a book. This allows the characters to talk around the moment instead of about the moment. And I think that’s the big lesson here. When characters are talking about the obviousness of the moment (how they feel, what’s happening, what they’re thinking about, what they want), the dialogue has a very mechanical “move the story forward” feel to it. When you’re talking around the moment though, it just feels like two people talking. And that’s why the “Old Man and The Sea” dialogue reads so much better.
So the question here is, how do we fix Nick’s scene? Well, here’s what I told him. I said to write the entire scene again, but this time, the characters aren’t allowed to ask anything about each other. They’re only allowed to focus on and discuss the experiment. I bet all of you, following this simple advice, could write a pretty good scene (if you want to, go ahead and write your version in the comments). Because now, just like in The Equalizer, the characters aren’t discussing each other. They’re discussing the experiment. And their conversation (what their plan is, how they work together, how they solve problems together) is going to play out in a much more subtle way, which is usually more interesting.
Now I’m not saying this is the end all be all solution to dialogue. Like I said, dialogue is situation-based. What works in one place doesn’t always work in another. And as you can see in The Equalizer scene, McCall and Teri do end up talking a little bit about their lives – “How’s the singing?” – but this is a great way to think about dialogue in general. Avoid writing scenes where characters talk about their feelings, their thoughts, their interests, and the moment at hand. Instead, find something that has nothing to do with any of these things, and force your characters to communicate through that. You’re almost guaranteed to come up with a better scene.
Special thanks to Nick for allowing me to post his scene. Now I’ll leave it to you guys. Tell me what you think is wrong with the first scene, and what you would do to fix it.
