Anytime we can work Ryan Seacrest into a Scriptshadow review is a great day, right?  I’m being facetious btw.  But hey, it just proves that any little nook you can carve yourself in this business is a potential stepping stone to bigger things.  Welcome back from what I hope was a wonderful weekend.  Got a mixed bag for you this week.  I review one of the most well-known unproduced screenplays in history.  What I have to say about it might surprise you.  I also take on a forgotten comedy script from 2007 that they should put into production tomorrow.  I review a hot indie project that recently came together which turned out to be awesome.  I also got a finalist from a recent screenplay competition.  Definitley some readable scripts this week.  And on top of all that, Roger’s here to review another 2007 script with a great title, Kamikaze Love.  

About: Chad Damiani and J.P. Lavin were writers on Ryan Seacrest’s KISS-FM Morning Show and American Idol when this 2007 Black List script sparked a heated bidding war between the studios and was ultimately set up at Screen Gems. Since then, they’ve been attached to a bevy of hot projects, from Rob Liefeld’s “Capeshooters” to the Taylor Lautner Mattel action figure vehicle, “Max Steel“. They were also the writers on the 2007 Fox comedy/reality pilot, “Anchorwoman”.

One of my favorite flicks is Quentin Tarantino and Tony Scott’s “True Romance“. It’s an Elmore Leonard plot strained through the filter of a narrative junky and cinephile, and thus its wrapping consists of Spaghetti Western Mexican stand-offs, a Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos comic given as a keepsake, lines of dialogue (Christopher Walken and Dennis Hopper are monologue-slayers in this movie) that sparkle in the mind like diamonds, and squibby Peckinpah deaths that would even make John Woo proud. All wrapped around a gooey true love conquers all center. Sure, it can be considered a male geek wish fulfillment fantasy and it’s more about the buddy aspect of a relationship, but hey, I still find it romantic. I still find it hopeful. I still find it relevant. 

Which is why I was disappointed when people were comparing that Zac Efron project “Die In a Gunfight” to it and discovered that the spec was more Godard narrative experiment than a deftly plotted young couple on the run caper. I’ve been patiently waiting for a movie to seize the True Romance mantle, to grab the baton and just run with it. The closest thing I could find that successfully ran with it was Garth Ennis’ “Preacher“, but that’s not a movie (yet). Then this 2007 Black List script came along, and it wasn’t until the halfway mark that I realized “True Romance” finally had a worthy successor in Chad Damiani and J.P. Lavin’s “Kamikaze Love”.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: 30 years after Mark’s stuffed teddy bear comes to life, the two now live in Boston, where they smoke as much dope and play as many video games as is humanly, and teddy-bearingly, possible. But will Mark’s girlfriend finally put her foot down and make Mark give up the bear?
About: Seth MacFarlane is the creator of Family Guy, American Dad, and The Cleveland Show. At 24 years of age, Fox gave him 50 grand to come up with a pilot, which is when he created Family Guy. MacFarlane said, “I spent about six months with no sleep and no life, just drawing like crazy in my kitchen and doing this pilot.” It would pay off as later Family Guy would become a 1 billion dollar franchise. Recently, he was given a 65 million dollar budget for this project. Teddy will star Mark Wahlberg in the lead and MacFarlane will be the Teddy Bear voice. MacFarlane will be taking care of directing duties as well.
Writer: Seth MacFarlane, Alec Sulkin and Wellesley Wild.
Details: 99 pages – undated; but I think it’s an older draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

All right, so I guess if I’m going to talk about Seth MacFarlane’s script, “Teddy,” I should let you know how I feel about his sense of humor first. Eight or so years ago, I was channel surfing and landed on some strange new cartoon I had never heard of called “Family Guy.” The scene was in a courtroom and our characters were about to be sentenced to jail when, out of nowhere, for no reason whatsoever, the Kool-Aid man barged through a wall and screamed, “Oh Yeahhhhhh!” Gauging the temperature in the room and realizing people weren’t into it, he tiptoed back out and left. It was so random, so weird, so out-of-left-field, that I laughed for two minutes straight.

Holy shit! I thought. I have a new favorite show!

So in the coming weeks, I made it a priority to watch Family Guy. But as I sat there during the first full episode, I didn’t laugh. That’s okay, every show has off days. So I went back the next week…and didn’t laugh. Following week, no laughing. I NEVER LAUGHED AGAIN at anything I saw in Family Guy. So I gave up on it.

Now that’s not to say it’s not funny. Never heard of a billion comedy franchise that didn’t keep millions of people in stitches, but Family Guy has a very specific kind of humor that people either love or they hate (most of the humor is based on non sequiturs like The Kool-Aid man – but if it’s all non sequiturs, then they’re not really non sequiturs anymore – are they?). The big difference between Family Guy and a lot of other shows is that it doesn’t care about story, plot or character, or at least it didn’t when I watched it. And the formula that’s left is pretty basic….

Make laugh = good.
Not make laugh = bad.
All other stuff = doesn’t matter.

Well, that approach is on full display here in Teddy, so I’m guessing there’s going to be a very “Family Guy” like divided reaction to it. How divided? Well, Fred Savage and Peter Falk appear in the first 10 minutes of Teddy then disappear for the last 90. Welcome to the insane freaking mind of Seth MacFarlane.

Mark Bennett is a Boston kid who had a hell of an interesting childhood. After getting a stuffed bear for Christmas, Mark turns to the bear and asks him to promise that he’ll never ever leave him and that they’ll be best friends forever. His bear (Ted) turns to him and says, “Okay.” Mark’s fucking teddy bear talks!

Now I have to give it to these guys. Whenever this happens in movies, the kid will bring the bear to his parents or friends and say, “Look, it talks,” and of course the stuffed animal just sits there not saying anything. But MacFarlane and crew go the other direction. They ask, “Well what if during that moment, the animal *did* talk?”

That’s right. This is no secret that the two are keeping from the world. Ted talks to mom and dad. Ted talks to neighbors and friends. In fact, news stations worldwide tell the story of the magical teddy bear who came to life. Scientists can’t explain it so eventually everyone just accepts it. There’s a kid in Boston with a magical teddy bear.

Cut to 30 years later and both Mark and Ted are grown up. Mark’s got a lame job as an assistant assistant manager at a car rental place. Ted, on the other hand, just cruises around town with his Southie accent, shooting the shit with the locals like it’s completely normal.

When Mark gets off of work, it’s back to the apartment to hang out with, smoke pot with, and play Xbox with Ted. Here they are, in their 30s, and just like that magical promise, are still the best of friends!

But Mark’s girlfriend, Lori, is starting to get dubious of this relationship and thinks it’s time for Mark to grow up. Yet you’re not gonna grow up if you keep hanging around your childhood teddy bear. Now for those of you who think this might be some deep introspective commentary on life via the porthole of a make-believe animal, i.e. something like The Beaver, think again.

There is no complexity in Teddy. There is no subtlety. There is no story or character development. It’s just (caveman voice): “Try make audience laugh now.”

Now there is a brief attempt at a story, I believe. Lori gives Mark an ultimatum to either give up the teddy bear or lose her, but in one of the quickest non-committals to a storyline I’ve ever seen, Mark’s back playing with Ted one scene after Lori’s ultimatum and she’s completely fine with it. Like I said, there’s no story here. And I don’t think MacFarlane cares that there’s no story here. His goal is to seek out the funniest situations possible and that’s it.

But if you’ve read Scriptshadow for even one day, you know I don’t go for this. I don’t just place story above comedy, I place it *way* above comedy. If we’re not engaged in a story, we’re missing half your laughs because we’re not invested in the characters enough to care about anything they say, much less anything they joke about.

This is the big difference between sitcoms and films, is that you can get away with a lot of that when your medium is only 22 minutes long. Around the time the audience realizes there’s nothing going on in the story, the story’s over.  But if you’re writing for anything that goes past 22 minutes, you need a story to keep the audience involved.  Having said that, I still think the best sitcom episodes are ones that incorporate a story. One of the most famous sitcom episodes of all time, Seinfeld’s “The Contest,” succeeds because of its story. There’s a clear cut goal (see who can last the longest) and we’re invested in seeing which of the characters is going to achieve that goal.

But back to Teddy. I think this could’ve benefited from a whole lot more conflict. I was talking to a Scriptshadow reader who expressed frustration over the fact that nothing happens here. And indeed, it’s a very narrow plot that lacks any substantial conflict at all.

When people say there’s not a lot happening in your story, what they mean a lot of the time (but not all the time) is that there isn’t enoiugh conflict. There isn’t anything getting in our hero’s way. There isn’t any particular danger. The stakes are low. The relationships don’t have enough opposition in them. All of that is on display here in Teddy. Just like I mentioned above, Lori threatens Teddy, but then a scene later we realize her threat doesn’t mean anything because she doesn’t follow through with it. As a result, all conflict and suspense disappear.

Even later on in the script, when the character’s world is most thrown into disarray (Mark loses Lori), it doesn’t feel honest. I see this in a lot of scripts that don’t put an emphasis on story. They drift through the first two acts and then at the end it’s: “Oh shit, it’s almost the end! We have to do something!” So then all this haphazard forced conflict is thrown at the characters at once and it never feels right because it hasn’t been properly set up.

One thing I’ll say in MacFarlane’s defense is that the concept here is really good. I can see the poster, I can see the trailer, I can see Mark Wahlberg in this role (especially after The Other Guys). You throw this one-liner out at a party and your buddies are gonna go, “Fuck yeah, I’d see that.” Especially if they’re drunk. So I see why this movie got a green light and I’m happy for MacFarlane. I’m just hoping they worked on the script in the meantime because it definitely needs a lot of work.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Even guys like MacFarlane, who have a couple hundred million in the bank, have trouble making the leap into features. So what they do is pitch an idea that’s similar enough to their work that the studio people understand it. MacFarlane has a hit show where babies and animals talk. So when he pitches a feature about a guy and a talking teddy bear, it’s not a stretch to imagine it working. Do you think MacFarlane could’ve had the same success pitching a Roland Emmerich-like “2012”? Of course not. We don’t associate him with that kind of material. I try to encourage writers to have this same mentality. Find the genre you want to have a career in and write a bunch of scripts in that genre. Cause one thing I’ve found is that when an agent/manager/producer likes your Renaissance Era Period Piece and they ask you what else you have and you tell them you have a sci-fi fantasy that takes place on Jorgon 4, there’s always a pause and then a reluctant, “Okay, send it in.” I’m not saying don’t write in other genres, but when you’re starting out, have two or more scripts in the genre you write best.  Trust me, you’ll thank me later.

Genre: Horror/Ghost/Mystery
Premise: A family moves into their dream house in the suburbs, only to find that the house has a horrifying past.
About: David Loucka’s been writing for a long time, penning films as far back as 1989, when he wrote the Michael Keaton starrer, “The Dream Team.” Still, work was pretty erratic until recently, where he’s gone on a tear. In addition to writing Dream House, Loucka is writing the The Ring 3D and The House at The End of The Street. Basically, if there’s a dream or a house in it, Loucka’s writing it. Dream House has already finished production and stars Daniel Craig, Naomi Watts and Rachel Weisz. It’s directed by Jim Sheridan, who wrote and directed, “In The Name Of The Father,” “My Left Foot,” and one of my favorite films, “In America.”
Writer: David Loucka
Details: 116 pages – July 18, 2005 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Reading Dream House was like plopping down in front of the TV on Sunday to watch your favorite football team, watching them run back a kickoff for a touchdown on the opening play, then proceed to get massacred over the next 2 hours, only to see them mount an incredible comeback in the last quarter that puts them in position to miraculously win the game. So the question is, did Dream House win the game? You’ll have to read on to find out. But I have to say, this is definitely one of the stranger screenplays I’ve read in awhile.

Will and Libby are a married couple with two daughters who have a few problems in their relationship, not unlike most couples. Will’s a hardcore workaholic, a fiction editor who’s lucky to slump into the house by 10 o’clock. Libby’s a simple housewife who just wants the best for her family.

Our story begins right after Libby threatens to take the girls and leave if Will doesn’t start giving them more time. The realization rocks Will into realizing what’s important, so he agrees to move his business out of city and into the suburbs, where he can be with his family and repair the damage he’s done.

They immediately find a broken down but beautiful house in the middle of a great suburb for an unbelievable price. But after moving in, strange things start to happen. There are weird cubby holes within the house where dead animals are strung up to the ceiling. They hear strange shuffling noises downstairs at night. Peeling away the old wallpaper, they find pentagram signs and horrifying drawings. Something is not right with this house.

But when Will goes back to the real estate agent who sold him the home, she professes to not know who he is. In fact, whoever Will speaks to either looks at him strangely or runs in the other direction. What the hell is going on??

Eventually (and we’re jumping into spoiler territory here), Will finds out that a man shot and killed his family in this house twenty years ago. The house has been abandoned ever since. Even worse, Will finds out that the killer is not in jail. He’s staying at a minimum security mental institution. Technically, he could show up at any second and blow them all to pieces. And then there’s the possibility that the town may have put him in this house on purpose. But why?

It’s hard to discuss Dream House without getting into spoilers but I’ll try and stay as spoiler-lite as possible. Still, be prepared for me to reveal a few plot twists.

Basically, Dream House is two separate stories, and I think that’s what makes the script so unique. The first story is, “What’s going on with this house and what do they do about it?” Normally, this thread would dictate the majority of the plot, a la what they did in Poltergeist. But Will actually solves this mystery pretty early on, and by the midpoint the story is effectively over. While it’s a strange choice, I’m glad he did it, because we start to figure out what’s going on pretty early (major spoiler – let’s just say it’s Shutter Island-esque), and all I kept thinking was, “Oh God, he’s not going to make us sit through another 70 pages of this even though we already know the twist, is he?”

So then this entirely new story starts, where we move from a freaky thriller into a bonafied ghost story. It’s a really strange choice that doesn’t quite work but it doesn’t quite not work either. The radical shift forces you to reevaluate everything you’ve read. And while I understand people throwing up their arms and saying, “Oh, give me a break!” once I committed to it, it actually got pretty good.

That’s because you thought you had it all figured out. As far as you were concerned the ending was a foregone conclusion. So when that ending came a full 60 pages early, it was like being abandoned. “Um, okay…what now?” I mean I challenge anybody to figure out this ending twist before it happens. Now I think Loucka could’ve done a better job setting it up, but this is an old draft, so he very well might have fixed it.

This story presents a myriad of problems for a writer, some of which were addressed well, others which weren’t. The first is logic. This goes back to my Wanderlust review but you have to have characters that think logically in stories. They can’t abide by this mysterious movie logic because “that’s how people act in the movies.”  That route gets you a lot of people throwing popcorn at the screen and calling “Bullshit!” (or at least it did in the 70s.  Now it just gets you more cell phones being turned on). I mean once you start finding Pentagram signs behind wallpaper, dead animals in cubbyholes, that no one’s occupied your house for 20 years because a family was murdered in it, and your realtor is saying she doesn’t know who you are – I mean aren’t you getting the fuck out of that house, like NOW? Logic dictates yes. But movie logic prevails, and as a result we lose faith in the writing. 

Also, you have to be careful with how many “What the fuck is going on?” moments you put in a movie like this. Too many and the audience gets impatient. For example we get about ten scenes with Will wandering around town, asking people what’s going on, only to have them respond, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and run away. The first couple were creepy and fun. From that point on, it’s like, “Alright already, we get it.  People aren’t helping him.”

As far as why this movie was greenlighted, look no further than my old article on actors attaching themselves to projects. (spoiler) What does Daniel Craig get to play here? Why, a crazy person! And what actor doesn’t looooove playing a crazy person. As cheap as this sounds, if you have a good idea where the main character is crazy, write it. Actors WILL want to play it.

Someone mentioned the other day Blake Snyder’s well-heeded warning of “double jeopardy,” the notion that you can make a movie about aliens, you can make a movie about vampires, but you can’t make a movie about alien vampires. I think there’s some of that going on here, though not as obvious. This is a mystery about a family stuck in a strange house. But then it becomes a ghost story. No doubt there’s something that feels sloppy about it. But I think Loucka just barely manages to tie it all together in the end. I was genuinely interested to see how it was all explained. This script is not without problems.  But it’s just such an odd duck that I have to recommend it. 

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: I love writers who can set up characters and relationships and situations efficiently. A lot of writers will set things up by having their characters blab on and on about it until it’s drilled into our heads twenty-fold.  Not recommended.  Here, Loucka needs to get across that Will and Libby have had some recent issues in their relationship. So we start off with Will on the train. Loucka describes him as “There’s a slightly distracted look to him as though he can never leave office problems behind.” Will then gets off the train to meet his wife, daughters, and the realtor, and the first thing the wife says to him isn’t “Hi.” She doesn’t smile at him. She says, “I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.” In less than two combined lines of screenplay real estate, Loucka has shown us that Will is a workaholic and that that addiction has severely affected his marriage. It’s great writing.

Genre: Indie Drama
Premise: A man must deal with day to day life while fighting his crippling sex addiction.
About: This is the next project for rising star Michael Fassbender, who was said to have had the inside track to star in the new Total Recall remake, although now that role looks to have gone to Colin Farrell. The Inglorious Basterds vet has a role in the upcoming X-Men movie, and is said to have a part in the new Hobbit films, though I’m not sure what that part would be. The director and co-writer, Steve McQueen, is also a rising star who’s constantly looking to push the film medium. Many of his early films were made to be projected onto three walls instead of one. His style is very minimalist. His last film, “Hunger,” about Irish hunger striker Bobby Sands, was well-received. His co-writer, Abi Morgan, is a successful TV writer who has recently segued into features.
Writers: Steve McQueen and Abi Morgan
Details: 119 pages, June 28th, 2010 draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Indie movie scripts are kind of like Indian food. They’re either the best meal you’ve ever had or a horrible adventure that puts you in the bathroom all night. Okay, well, maybe that’s not the best analogy. But reading indie scripts always feels like a gamble to me. Before I open them I’m constantly saying to myself, “Please don’t be a pointless wandering character study where nothing happens. Please don’t be a pointless wandering character study where nothing happens.”

The big issue is that most of them tend to lack any drama, and it’s often hard to tell if it’s because the writer doesn’t know how to write or because they don’t believe in the conventions of artificially constructed conflict. There’s a lot of “real life is boring” as a rationalization for why 30 pages can go by with nothing happening. There’s definitely an audience for this, and the mumblecore movement proves it, but my feeling is that if you’re going to sit an audience down for a couple of hours, make something happen onscreen. We want to see some drama.

So, does Shame fall into that aforementioned category? Or does it rise above and become an interesting indie story?

Brandon is in his late-20s. By the way people treat him, we assume he’s good looking, but we never actually know because for some reason McQueen and Morgan keep that information a secret, limiting his description to his age. This was my first uncomfortable moment with the script.  It seems like in a movie about sex addiction, what the protagonist looks like, whether he’s ugly or handsome, would be an incredibly important detail to the story.  But I digress.

We follow Brandon through his mundane daily life, going to work, mulling through the streets, chilling at his apartment. McQueen’s minimalist tendencies are on full display here, as we rarely hear anyone even speak. And when someone does speak, it tends to be irrelevant to the story. It’s just people talking like they’d talk in real life, in chopped off phrases and random observations. On the one hand it’s frustrating but on the other, it creates a distance between you and the story that strangely helps you understand Brandon’s distant character better.

Eventually David’s sister, Sissy, arrives at his apartment, needing to stay for awhile. The two have a friendly if strange relationship, arguing often about petty things and resorting back to childlike tendencies such as calling each other names and tickle fights.

But the real issue here is that Sissy is intruding on Brandon’s secret. You see, Brandon is a sex addict. He goes to the bathroom at work any chance he gets in order to masturbate. He fills up his days with internet porn. The graphic outline of a female body on a shampoo bottle can get him off.

Alone, he can feed this addiction. But with his sister there, it starts putting undo pressure on this shameful side of him, which begins manifesting itself in his day to day life.

Eventually he meets Marianne, a new assistant at work. In a way, he sees her as his salvation. If he can find a way to have a normal relationship with a woman, maybe he can finally overcome these urges. However, like a lot of the script, it’s hard to get a feel for their relationship. Words are barely uttered between the two, giving us no insight into their characters. Again, I think it’s supposed to feel more like real life, but instead, the characters just feel thin.  I’m not looking for, “My dad died when I was six so I moved in with my grandparents and then got cancer at 13…” but how people talk and what people say and even a simple opinion here or there is what brings characters alive.  Without that, we don’t know these people.

Anyway, Brandon starts living this double life where he’s dating Marianne yet satisfying his insatiable sexual appetite with anyone else he can find. His sister is digging further and further into his condo, forcing Brandon to stay out later and later. Will Brandon overcome his sexual addition in time to save his relationship with Marianne or become a victim of it? “Shame” keeps you guessing til the end. 

If you’ve been paying attention, you probably already know my reaction to this. “Shame” is unapologetically minimalist. It’s indie to indie extreme. And like I mentioned at the beginning, I just don’t respond to that.

There were so many opportunities for conflict and drama here that were avoided, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. For example, there’s a subplot at work where Brandon’s been accumulating a lot of porn on his computer. He then comes to work one day to find out his computer has gone in for repair. They have to go through the hard drive and clean out some viruses.

This would appear to be the setup for a great dramatic sequence. How does he get the computer back before they find the porn? The stakes are pretty high as well. He might end up losing his job. But a few scenes later, the problem resolves itself. Brandon doesn’t have to do anything. Again, this may be how it happens in real life, but can’t we all agree that watching our protagonist try to solve a problem is way more interesting than it simply getting fixed on its own?

I think the most frustrating subplot of the script, however, is the sister Sissy. (Sorta spoiler) A ton of emphasis is put on this weird relationship between the two that’s full of tension and flirting and unfinished business. Coupled with Brandon’s uncontrollable sexual urges, it seems like 70 pages is all leading up to something happening between the two. And yet, it never does, making you wonder if the sister should’ve ever been introduced into the story in the first place.

I will concede that the last 30 pages pick up considerably. We watch Brandon’s addiction spiral out of control and to the writers’ credit, I don’t think it would’ve had quite the same punch if the script hadn’t been such the slow burn that it was.

But in the end, I think I have a different philosophy on telling stories than McQueen and Morgan. They wanted to convey real life. I wanted the drama that only a good fictional story can provide. I’m guessing some of you will really hate this and some of you will really like it. If you enjoy Soderbergh’s experimental films like Bubble and Keane (which he produced) or any Mumblecore films, you should give this a shot. But if you like a little more drama for your buck, like me, my advice is to pass.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: The porn-at-work storyline really bothered me because you never want your protaginist’s problems to just solve themselves. It’s boring and feels like a cheat. The audience WANTS to see your character try to solve his/her problems. That’s what they come to watch. The character may not succeed. But you at least have to show them trying.

 Man, to prove how ignorant I am about comic books, I have no idea what the difference is between Green Arrow, Green Hornet, and Green Lantern.  There was a time when I believed they were all the same character.  And I’m still not sure that they aren’t.  All I can tell you is that, of the three, this is apparently the only one not in active development, which is surprising, as almost everyone who’s read the script has told me it’s great.  As for the rest of the week, we have a Ben Stiller flick, a duel that dates back to Nazi days, and possibly the craziest freaking script I’ve read all year.  I’m not going to say it’s crazy good, but there are scenes in this script that you have never read before nor will you ever read again.  I can guarantee you that.  I’ll save that one for Friday.  Right now, here’s Roger with Green Lantern.  I mean Green Hornet.  I mean Green Arrow!  I think. Who’s on first?

About: Justin Marks is the scribe responsible for drafts of Voltron, Grayskull: The Masters of the Universe, Hack/Slash and was the writer working on 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea for Warner Bros. and director McG. He’s also written for videogames, contributing some levels to the Electronic Arts sequel to Army of Two, The 40th Day. He originally wrote Green Arrow: Escape from Super Max as a spec, an original idea he developed under the guidance of David S. Goyer and his wife, producer Jessika Goyer.

My only exposure to the Green Arrow is limited to the appearance of the character in Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and the CW’s Smallville. I’m more of a Marvel guy than a DC guy, and I am in no way familiar with the B and C-list villains of the DC Universe (although some are criminal analogues of super-powered characters in the Marvel U) who inhabit the prison of Green Arrow: Escape From Supermax.

If you’re a fanboy or girl, it’s hard not to be intrigued by the scribe, Justin Marks, who has penned the script adaptations for some major 80s cartoons and toy-lines. From Voltron to Grayskull: The Masters of the Universe, he’s the guy that got a lot of Internet buzz for being attached to such geek-friendly projects but was crucified by angry talk-backers when Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li was released (which contains an inscrutable performance by Chris Klein). But, in Hollywood, the reality of a writer’s job is different than the naivette that can characterize online screenwriting forums. You take an assignment, you turn in a draft, and then everything else is outta your hands. The movie in the can may not honor the vision that was on the page, and suddenly, on the film websites, you become that guy.