Tomorrow, I’ll be reviewing the winner of Scene Showdown! But today, I want to look at one of the scenes that didn’t make the Top 5. Obviously, there were a ton of scenes that didn’t make the cut and I wish I could break down all of them. I chose this specific scene because it’s a good representation of the level of writing I received in the Showdown.
I’m hoping, with this breakdown, I can help both the writer and all aspiring screenwriters who are trying to get better at scene-writing. Let’s get into it!
Title: Reaper
Genre: Horror
Logline: When a high school girl discovers her family’s shocking connection to the Grim Reaper, she must save her little brother before a violent curse overtakes him. Some family secrets should stay dead.
From the very opening paragraph, I’m worried. “PUSH INTO the back of DAD’S head.” This is sort of a weird description and I’m not sure what to do with it. I generally understand that we’re behind a character and the camera is pushing into the back of their head. But my question is, “Why?” Why start pushing into the back of someone’s head? So we can see the details of their new haircut?
I don’t really know what “hardline posture” is. That leaves me with two questions in the opening paragraph and that’s usually enough to bail on a script. If I’m struggling to make it through the opening paragraph, based on my previous reading experience, I know there are going to be a lot more questions in the pages ahead.
I’m guessing that this image is meant to convey that a really bad storm is coming and they need to get to safety. The reason I believe this is because the writer has started with that image – the image of a man staring out into a storm. Whatever images you start with, the reader assumes those images are important. So I wouldn’t expect this to be a casual storm. I’m expecting it to be a big storm.
This is followed by voices in the background discussing something. This is a pet peeve of mine – when you start a script with voices from characters we haven’t met yet. Early on in a script (or, in this case, a scene), the reader is desperate to understand what’s going on. People speaking who don’t have names yet creates an air of confusion and frustration.
Case in point, as I mentioned, I assumed they were leaving because of the storm. But when I read the scene back, I’m thinking they’re leaving because something is happening in the house. The reason I didn’t pick up on that the first time was because I was expending my mental energy on figuring out who these voices were. That prevented me from focusing on the content of what they were saying.
I’m getting frustrated now that people who are important enough to dictate what happens don’t have a name yet (The Woman). I would like to know, one page in, if this is a mom, if this is an Aunt, if this is a friend. And what is their name? Us readers are desperate to make sense of things so the more you leave basic things unknown, the more frustrated we get.
“The Woman dips into frame, her worried brow creased like bedsheets after a fitful rest.” I don’t dislike this line but it reads more like a line from a novel than a screenplay. Screenplays need to get to the point. They’re not about nailing the perfect analogy or metaphor. This writing choice is not something that would make me stop reading but it’s something that, when combined with the problems I’ve already mentioned, might be the final nail in the coffin.
I’m realizing, at this point, that I don’t know why this family is leaving. As I pointed out, I initially thought it was because of the storm. But then I thought maybe it was because of something that was happening in the house (a haunting, perhaps?).
The reason this matters is because I need to understand what the engine underneath the characters’ actions is in order to enjoy the scene. For example, if you had established that something was after them in the house, now I know that the car ride is to get away from that something. But since I don’t know why they left the house, there’s no tension or purpose within the car scene. They might as well be on a road trip.
It makes lines like this: “Dad drives, locked forward, white knuckles groaning against the rubber steering wheel,” confusing because why have white knuckles when there’s been no clearly established threat? Yes, there have been allusions to a threat. But if the nature of the threat hasn’t been established, the reader is not going to feel any tension or anticipation or suspense or worry, which are all the things the reader *should* be feeling in a scene like this.
It affects even the end of this segment, where Cass makes the duck joke. A joke that is made specifically to cut the tension makes sense. But if we don’t feel the tension, the joke is just a random joke.
At this point I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. The second a character farts in a script, I consider that script slapstick. Fart humor is lowest common denominator humor so my feelings about this scene are plunging quickly. Just a page ago, we seemed like we were in a really serious place. Now it’s all shits and giggles, literally.
I suppose you can argue that Max and Mark are trying to lighten the mood. But, as I’ve already established, I don’t know what the mood is. I still don’t know why they’re driving somewhere or if they’re trying to escape something. By the way, the first time I read this scene, I thought Max was the dad. Only when I went through it again did I realize he was the kid. That’s what happens when you start your script with voice overs from characters we haven’t met yet. It makes every character that much harder to identify.
I’m not sure what “suckles from the blade” means. One thing that is definitely a big problem in screenwriting is when basic actions cause confusion due to the way they’re written. Constructing clear and concise sentences should be the easiest part of screenwriting. So if that mistake is happening, it needs to be fixed immediately.
The best way to fix this problem is, usually, to simplify it. We often try and be too clever by half with our writing when a simple description will suffice. I believe the writer is saying that Mark is sucking the blade. But I don’t know why. So tell us he’s sucking the blade and tell us why.
Here’s a tip for screenwriters. When you write the description in your script, write it in the clearest form possible. Don’t get cute. If the character is walking to a table, don’t say, “He sashays unwittingly to the table, like a raccoon on Broadway.” Just say, “Joe walks (or hurries) to the table.” Then, in subsequent drafts, if you want, you can add some flavor to the description. The problems with sentence structure often begin when the writer starts off with some unwieldy description. Start simple and if you feel like, later on, the description needs more flavor, add it.
I see and respect what the writer is trying to do here. Drifting onto the median implies that something bad is about to happen which, in turn, builds suspense. So the scene is picking up.
But this is the funny thing about screenwriting. You can do something good on page 40. But if everything leading up to page 40 was average or slightly-above-average, the reader is not going to be invested in what’s happening. They’re only going to be invested if you built up a compelling story in those previous 40 pages.
Same thing here. I like that things are picking up. But I still don’t know why they left the house. I don’t like the weird vibe in the car where people are farting and pretending to be apple-mouthed Draculas. I’m more confused than I am entertained and, therefore, when genuine suspense-initiators are introduced, I’m only partially invested.
When a character tells a story in a script, it is, in essence, no different from the overall story being told in your screenplay – IT MUST BE ENTERTAINING. This story about how the dad needed to get a job is fine, I suppose. But is it worthy of taking up the bulk of the dialogue in the car? I would say no. I’m not even sure why the story is being told. Is it Christmas time? is that why he’s relaying an old Christmas story? I’m struggling to see how the story connects to the situation.
This is the best part of the scene, hands down. We have the payoff of drifting into the middle lane. We have the payoff of Mark mucking around with a knife. The image is shocking, borderline disturbing. So, to that end, I give the writer credit. Something definitely HAPPENED in this scene, which is more than I can say for the majority of the scenes that were entered into Scene Showdown.
I don’t get the part where “something’s wrong with Dad,” though. Maybe that will be explained later in the script. I do think, for the sake of only being able to submit a single scene, the writer should have better set up that “something” that was “wrong with dad” earlier in the scene. That would’ve given the dad’s decision to crash the car more punch.
The final image is a fun one. I like the apple stabbed into the throat. The looming grim reaper looking down on him is also a good shot. So the scene ends with a kick, which is nice.
But let’s go over the reasons why the scene didn’t make the Showdown. One, the opening had too many unclear moments. Two, there were some clunky descriptions. Three, I didn’t know why they left the house. And finally, four, the scene didn’t achieve the main thing it was trying to do, which was create a tension-filled car ride.
Hopefully, this helps the writer out. Now it’s time for you guys to chime in. What did you make of the scene? Share your thoughts in the comments. :)
