Genre: Horror/Supernatural
Premise: A strange event results in nearly everyone in the world vanishing into thin air. A small group of survivors find each other and try to figure out what happened.
About: Brad Anderson, the director of “Vanishing,” has always been an interesting filmmaker to me, but truth be told his films have left me wanting more. Session 9 was cool, but I still couldn’t tell you exactly what it was. Was it a horror movie? A serial killer movie? It seemed like an excuse to shoot at a creepy location more than anything. The Machinist was okay, but confused me more than it entertained me. It too lacked conviction. I wanted that movie to slug me in the face and it seemed more intent on tickling me to death. So I think the jury’s still out on him. Anderson’s found a solid cast in his latest though, with Hayden Christensen, John Leguizamo, and Thandie Newton onboard. Anthony Jaswinski, the writer, has written a couple of movies for TV, has another couple in development, but is best known around these parts as the writer of the spec script “Kristy,” which has poked up on the Scriptshadow Reader Top 25 before. The script is about a girl who’s terrorized on a deserted college campus.
Writer: Anthony Jaswinski
Details: Blue Rev. 9/22/09 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).

The Vanishing on 7th Street is a script that starts off strong but, like a lot of these scripts, gets swallowed up in its own ambition. The ultra high-concept premise lures us in like fresh garbage to a family of raccoons. The question is, is the premise *too* high concept? Wha? Huh? Buh? ‘How can that even be possible’ you ask?? A premise is too high concept when no matter what you do with the story, it will never be as interesting as the concept itself. In other words, you bite off more than you can chew. And unfortunately, I think that’s the case with Vanishing.

Paul is a quiet keeps-to-himself projectionist in his 40s who lives a very similar existence to his job – isolated, alone, doesn’t want to be bothered. He spends his free time like all of us do, gobbling up quantum physics in textbook form (Come on, you know you dig the quantum). When the projector stops, Paul gets up to check out what’s going on in the theater, only to see that everyone is gone. Did Paul accidentally screen The Switch? No, the audience simply…vanished.

Paul wanders into the adjacent mall, hearing the occasional scream, but notices that he’s the only one there. Instead of raiding Cinnabon though, Paul stumbles out into the streets where he realizes that all the cars have stopped, all the phones are out, and poor dogs are walking around without owners. The Vanishing has apparently spared canines.

72 hours later we catch up with Luke, our brooding hero played by Hayden Christensen. Luke split up with his wife to work here and he’s never quite found peace with the decision. As is always the case, you don’t start missing someone until the damn world’s about to blow up.

Eventually Luke runs into a group of people. The first is Paul, our projectionist friend. The second is James, a teenager who’s waiting for his mom to come back (it ain’t happening kid), and then there’s Maya, a nurse who’s a few bad meals from going off the deeeeeep end.

The group holes up in a tavern and tries to figure out why the hell people are, you know, disappearing. Some believe it’s a pissed off God. Some think the universe is systematically closing down. Others think that there’s no reason at all. It just simply…happened.

But while theories are flying fast and free, a far more pressing problem arises. The group starts to hear voices in the shadows, and become aware that the light is the only thing keeping them alive. Slip out of it and into the darkness, and the beasts/monsters behind those eerie voices pull you away. The group must formulate a plan to escape before the light runs out.

The Vanishing on 7th Street has a lot of scenes and visuals and sounds that would get any director excited. There’s a baby stroller lit under a lone streetlight. A character opens a door to another room only to find a concrete wall. Characters in hoods slide through a city bathed in pockets of light. Voices spookily taunt characters from behind the shadows. Visually and aurally, there is definitely a movie here. I just don’t know if there’s a story.

The big hook – the actual vanishing – wears off quickly and we’re stuck with these characters who technically all have solid goals (to survive) but aren’t all that interesting. They seem only a quarter or a half realized. For example, Paul, who’s a science geek, comes up with this cool theory that whoever created the universe is shutting it down piece by piece, and the people of this planet are the first to be turned off. Yet that’s all I can remember about Paul, was his theory. I couldn’t tell you about any character flaws or what happened in his life that pushed him into such an isolated existence. He’s like the hand and the leg of a person instead of the entire body.

Luke is more thought out and has the backstory with his wife, but this information doesn’t inform the story or the character at all. Besides a quick throwaway conversation, Luke doesn’t seem that interested in finding or getting back to his wife. He spoke of it being an issue, but we didn’t FEEL it was an issue. Which leads me to a bigger problem. Nobody here really had a plan. There’s this vague notion that they should find a working car (all the cars are dead) and drive somewhere. But where? I always say that once your character’s motivations are unclear, your movie is dead, because the audience isn’t interested in watching characters without a point, without a plan. And that’s how I felt once the second half of Vanishing rolled around.

Instead, the script focuses on middle-of-the-road conversations the characters have which contain little to no conflict beneath them. “Who are you?” “What do you think it is?” “I want to find my mom.” One of the reasons Aliens is so awesome is because those characters had so much going on underneath the surface. Ripley is trying to save this little girl. Burke is planning to sacrifice Ripley for money and glory. Bishop is an android, who our hero hates but must trust to survive. There was a real dynamic between the characters ripe for conflict. Here, it’s like each character is on their own island, inflicting no cause or effect on any of the other characters. It was frustrating.

Admittedly, Anderson and Jawinski seem to be tackling some really deep issues and thoughts in this movie, and I’m not sure if I’m smart enough to understand them. I definitely felt like something bigger was happening here, that symbolism and metaphors and a multi-layered narrative were all present. But because I wasn’t engaged in the storyline, I didn’t care to figure out any of that stuff.

Vanishing is a strange cross between Flashforward, The Darkest Hour, The Langoliers, and The Happening. It’s very Steven Kingish, and I anticipate King fans will dig the vibe. But the script is never better than in its opening act, and that can’t happen in a script.

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

What I learned: Think long and hard about whether you can deliver on your huge premise before you write it. If the concept that sends your story into motion is the best thing about your script, then you only have one-fourth of a script. What if aliens invaded our planet tomorrow? Okay, great concept. But then what? How do you keep that interesting for the 100 minutes after they invade? If you want to see how bad someone can screw this up, go rent Independence Day. Just make sure to also rent a gun, as you’ll want to shoot yourself by the midpoint. I think the key to these high concept ideas is making sure you have a story ready on the personal level after you hit your audience with the hook. So in District 9, the hook was, “What if aliens got stuck here and we enslaved them in a ghetto?” But the personal story was, “What if a human started turning into one of these aliens and had to find a way to turn back before it was too late?” That’s a story that can sustain itself the whole way through. The story within the story baby…the story within the story. :)

This is a book review. Not a script review. For those who know nothing about this book, I recommend you read it before reading any review. There are lots of surprises in the story, some of which I’ll be spoiling here. You’ve been warned.

Genre: Mystery/Crime
Premise: A disgraced journalist is hired by the head of an eccentric family to solve the murder of a girl 40 years ago.
About: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is the best-selling Swedish novel by Stieg Larsson and the first in a series of three books that have come to be known as the “Millennium Trilogy.” The books are so popular that Larsson became the second best-selling author in the world in 2008, behind Afghan-American author Khaled Hosseini. By March 2010 his Millennium trilogy had sold 27 million copies in more than 40 countries. Sadly, Larsson never enjoyed this success. He wrote the three books for his own pleasure every day after work and they were only published after his death from a massive heart attack at age 50. Larsson left about three quarters of a fourth novel on a notebook computer; synopses or manuscripts of the fifth and sixth in the series, which was intended to contain an eventual total of ten books. Recently, David Fincher signed on to direct the film, and is currently in the middle of a months-long search for the actress who will play the famed tattooed lead.
Writer: Stieg Larsson

First off, no, I don’t have this script. So I’m ordering radio silence on requests.

If you’re like me, whenever something big comes along that people say you “have to see” or “have to read,” you immediately go into Resistance Mode. A roll of the eyes. A tightening of the jaw. ‘Don’t tell me what I *have* to see. I’ll see what *I* want to see dammit!” And then you go on an illogical months-long strike of the movie/show/book for no other reason than to prove (to no one – cause no one’s paying attention) that you are not influenced by the fleeting tastes of pop culture. Okay, well, maybe that’s just me. Either way, I didn’t think I’d ever see the inside cover of the surely overrated Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. But then vacation came along.

And as you know when you’re on vacation, you have to “do things” that are “different,” in order to justify travelling hundreds of miles away somewhere. And since I never have the time to read books anymore and nobody would stop talking about this damn tattooed girl, I realized that Mr. Larsson and I were going to have to make up. It was time to stop avoiding each other. It was time for me to read The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

Tattoo follows two main characters, the unshakeable journalist Mikael Blomkvist and the anti-social genius Lisbeth Salander. When we meet the bright but sad-eyed Blomkvist, he’s been convicted of slandering the snake-like businessman Hans-Erik Wennerstrom in his self-published magazine, Millennium. This has put both his business and his name in serious jeopardy, and Blomkvist, who was quite a popular figure in Sweden, has been relegated to a petty criminal by the press. Things aren’t looking good for him.

But they’re certainly better than the life of 20-something Lisbeth Salander. An orphan for most of her childhood, Lisbeth’s been bounced around from family to family, guardian to guardian, most of whom were men who physically and sexually abused her. Even now, she must report to a guardian, a man who has control over her financial assets. Asking for money always requires a sexual favor in return. Lisbeth is just a tortured individual, a dog who’s been kicked every day of her life. She doesn’t trust a soul, especially men. The only happiness she finds is in her job. Lisbeth is a crack-researcher working for private eye companies to dig up dirt on people, usually large corporate types. It’s a job she enjoys because most of the people she gets dirt on are men. It’s a small way to return the favor and speed up the karmic train.

One day Blomkvist is visited by a mysterious man who informs him that retired entrepreneur Henrick Vanger, of the famous but dying Vanger Corporation, wants to offer him a job. Blomkvist travels to the isolated and spooky island of Hedeby to meet with the reclusive Henrick, who, after a considerable amount of backstory, asks Blomkvist if he would like to write a book about the Vanger family. Henrick won’t be above ground for much longer, and he thinks it would be important to chronicle the intricate cracks and corners of his large and complicated family history.

Henrick informs him that this is only the first half of the job. 40 years ago Henrick’s 16 year old niece, Harriet Vanger, disappeared here on the island. The circumstances of her disappearance have left no doubt in Henrick’s mind that she was murdered. He has spent the last 40 years researching what happened that day, and is convinced that one of his own family members killed her.

Henrick wants Blomkvist to conduct an investigation here on the island, where all his eccentric family members live, and see if he can find any new information leading to the truth about Harriet’s disappearence. His cover story will be to write the Vanger Family History, but the real reason he’s here is to find Harriet’s murderer.

Initially reluctant, Blomkvist is intrigued enough to commit, and sets up shop on the creepy island of Hedeby, where he begins an extensive look into the Vanger family history. What he will come to realize is that the Vangers are one of the most eccentric and dysfunctional families he’s ever come in contact with. And that they are very secretive. These are people who do not want to dig up their past and they don’t want anyone, especially some criminal reporter, digging it up either. The stonewalling forces Blomkvist to do most of his research through archives, which contain more information than he could possibly sift through in a lifetime, which is why he enlists the help of the gifted Lisbeth Salander.

In short, this book is fucking great. I mean there’s been a lot of talk about nothing happening in the opening 200 pages and I agree it takes way too long to get to the plot. I’m wondering if this is because Larsson never had an editor. He was writing these books in a vacuum and I think a lot of that shows, as the last 100 pages are also somewhat insignificant and probably could’ve been cut. But once we get into the central mystery of what happened to Harriet Vanger, this book moves as fast as any I’ve ever read.

Because the history behind the Vanger family is so extensive, and because there are so many members of the family with ties to so many weird and eccentric experiences, there’s an endless amount of fascinating material to explore. After hundreds and hundreds of pages, we begin to realize that Harriet Vanger is just the tip of the iceberg, and that she is actually one in a series of brutal serial murders, which have been carefully covered up over half a century. Uhhh, yeah! Count me in.

I could get into all the great things about this book (as well as some of the sillier things– Lisbeth’s hacking feels a decade late and a microchip short) but in order to keep this review relevant, I wanted to talk about how they’re going to adapt it into a film, because make no mistake, it will be a difficult adaptation.

The book has some qualities that are perfect to build a screenplay around. For example, the nice thing about Larsson droning on in the first 200 and last 100 pages about Wennestrom (a villain whom, it should be noted, we never meet), is that you can lob those parts of the story off and not lose anything, allowing you to adapt a 300 page book as opposed to a 600 page one.

But here’s the thing. I watched the Swedish film adaptation of this, and that’s exactly what they did, is jumped right into Henrick’s offer. I don’t know what it was but something felt off about it, like it was all happening too fast. The book spends a hundred-some pages introducing us to all the varied Vanger family members. Being stuck on that island with that creepy clan builds a necessary feeling of isolation and fear that jumping right in there can’t do. As a result, the Swedish film felt too much like your standard cold case mystery show on TV. The investigation felt too simple and ultimately empty.

Another issue they’ll have to deal with is the timeframe, which takes place over a year in the book. Like I always preach on the site, you want your timeframe to be tight. The ticking clock adds immediacy to your story, which keeps it exciting. But like I mentioned above, a strength of the book is the way it milks its character threads, which all seem mundane initially, but eventually pay off in huge ways. Unfortunately it takes a lot of time to set up those payoffs. When Blomkvist becomes involved in a months-long relationship with Cecilia Vanger, and then is inexplicably dumped and avoided by her, we’re terrified of what she’s capable of, especially as he starts unearthing the truth about Harriet. There’s also just tons of information he has to dig through over the months. The sheer amount of time he puts into this is what makes it so satisfying when he finally makes some progress. To put it plainly, I would not want to be tasked with figuring out what the timeframe is here, as both the short route and the long one have major pros and cons.

But I think where this really becomes a movie, and maybe the one area where the movie can actually improve upon the book – is the relationship between Lisbeth and Blomkvist. Lisbeth is such a fascinating character and one of the driving forces of the novel is to see her finally break out of her protective shell and trust another human being. The novel paints a very complicated relationship between her and Blomkvist that involves an intimate work environment yet a distant personal one. What each character desires and fears always seems to be in direct contrast with one another and this broken timing weaves its way into them like a pair of frantic claws, shoving them together and ripping them apart at will, all the while leaving us confused about what’s ultimately going to happen between them. It’s a great romantic subplot because it’s different and it’s dark and it’s weird and you never have any idea where it’s going to go. Most importantly, we desire to see them end up together, so it’s like this huge bonus storyline that we’re dying to see the conclusion to, which is already sitting on top of the mother of all plot engines, with the search for Harriet’s killer.

I know Fincher is desperately searching for an actress to play Lisbeth Salander and indeed it’s the kind of role that will change an actress’ life. But I just don’t know who you can cast. Everyone’s saying Ellen Page but there’s just no way. She doesn’t have the edge that Salander needs, and yes I’ve seen her in Hard Candy. This character is like that one times 100. You need an actress with some real genuine hatred in her life to pull this off. Maybe they can get Pink or that girl M.I.A. That’s a joke by the way. I offer the question up to you guys. Who do you think should play Lisbeth Salandar?

Anyway, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo has the potential to finally reinvigorate a 10 year old dead genre, the serial killer flick. There’s more depth in this one novel than there were in 100 serial killer specs I’ve read over the past few years. It’s been a long wait but I think we may finally get that “The next Silence Of The Lambs.”

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

What I learned: I love how the main character here must hide behind a lie for his investigation. Think about it, if Blomkvist was simply asking the Vangers about Harriet’s disappearance, it would be boring – way too straightforward. Instead, he must pretend he’s doing research for the Vanger Family history. This gives every conversation/interview of his an underlying subtext, and therefore keeps the dialogue fresh and unpredictable. For example, he may ask a character about her childhood, but what he really wants to find out is what her childhood friendship with Harriet was like. Trying to steer the conversation a certain way without giving away your true intentions is always going to lead to an interesting scene. It also adds an element of danger to every conversation, because we’re afraid (and he’s afraid) of what might happen if he’s caught. The integration of this tip is story specific, so you can’t just add it to any character. But if it works for your story and your protagonist, definitely consider using it.

Genre: Fantasy
Premise: Conan The Barbarian becomes a reluctant king and fathers a son, who is then groomed to become the future King.
About: It should be noted that this is NOT the draft of the script they used for the new Conan project, but rather the famous 2001 John Milius draft that many geeks have fallen in love with. Alas, it was not to be, as this draft was assuming Ah-nold would be in it, and Ah-nold decided to instead bankrupt Caleefohneeya. Little known fact. Oliver Stone got a writing credit on the first Conan The Barbarian.
Writer: John Milius
Details: 166 pages – May 24, 2001 draft

For those put off by the 60 pages of character development in Brigands Of Rattleborge, I hereby warn you, do NOT read King Conan. King Conan scoffs in the face of screenplays that only use 60 pages to set up their characters. Why, you ask? Because King Conan uses one *hundred* pages to set up its characters!

I realize this is a losing proposition. Those who don’t care about Conan won’t give a shit what I rate it, and those who do care, care so much that they’ll tear me to pieces for even implying it’s not genius (I’m looking at you JJ) but holy schnikies, this script is so incredibly boring!

Yes, I said it. It’s boring. I feel almost liberated as I write that.

For 100 pages, NOTHING HAPPENS.

Well that can’t be, Carson, you say. *Something* must have happened. Okay, let me tell you what happened and you can be the judge if anything happened.

Conan The Barbarian impregnates a woman named the Daughter Of The Snows. This evil nasty woman tells Conan she doesn’t want to hang out with him until his child is born and kicks him out of her crib. Women.

In the meantime, Conan meets a man named Metallus who teaches him the importance of “fighting in a line.” You can’t break the line ever or you lose. This is obviously symbolic for many things throughout the story, but since I could never get into the story, it just became annoying that it came up so frequently.

After learning the line stuff, Conan heads back to Snowzilla to grab his son, Kon. Yes, Conan is now a father. The Conan line will live on.

Eventually, Conan becomes king of a country called Zingara, which, as many of you know, becomes famous for creating Farmville. You might say, “How is that ‘nothing’ Carson? He destroyed an entire country to become king! That’s epic. That’s exactly why we want a Conan sequel.” Well yeah, if that HAPPENED, I’d be right with you. But Conan doesn’t have to do anything to inherit the kingdom. It’s just handed to him.

Even better, once he gets it, he doesn’t even want it. Conan is about as reluctant of a king as there is – constantly sulking and complaining that being a king isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

After awhile, Conan’s handlers suggest sending Kon off to the king version of preparatory school. Kon will study. Kon will fight. He will learn everything there is about becoming a king.

For the next 50 or so pages, we cut back and forth between Kon and Conan – Kon as he grows up and learns the ways of being a king, and Conan as he rules his kingdom. Very little happens during this period. Kon has a rivalry with one of his classmates, Fortunas (the Emperor’s son), and Conan grows so bored of being king that he pulls a Princess Jasmine, dressing up like a peasant, and hanging out with the peasant folk. Here he eventually meets a peasant woman that he falls for.

Where I officially gave up on King Conan though, was when Fortunas finds out that Conan and Kon are trading letters. The mischievous Fortunas then secretly intercepts and throws away those letters, making each believe that the other has forgotten about them.

Okay…REALLY???

I can go ahead and buy that plot point in, say, The Notebook or Beverly Hills 90210. But in a Conan sequel??

After this point I found it very hard to stay focused because everything in this script was soooooooooo drawwwwwwwn ouuuuuuuut. From what I could gather, Conan’s boredom leads to him strengthening ties with neighboring countries. But the plan backfires when one of these countries benefits from Conan’s weapons trade, strengthening their army and giving them a decided advantage over a third country. This third country starts bitching at Conan, and he realizes he’s inadvertently created a quagmire in the region.

So outside watching Kon grow up and a king attempt to stave off boredom, we now introduce into the mix… politics? Did we not learn anything from the Star Wars Episode 1 debacle?

Eventually (and I’m talking a good 100 pages into the script here when I say “eventually”) Kon comes back home, and the two try to resolve their artificially fractured relationship. This leads to an assassination attempt on Conan and finally – thank God – something actually starts happening in the script.

But let’s be honest. By that point it’s too late. You are never more drained and more frustrated as a reader than when you’re trying to keep track of a complicated screenplay that you care nothing about. It’s really the worst experience you can have. You want to get it over with, but there are 30-some names like “Lord Gobaniior” along with complicated subplots and reemerging dormant story threads that force you, against all your will, to pay attention. Ugh! I was so drained after I read this.

To Milius’ credit, it’s hard to keep people interested on the page with a story that’s so cinematic – that depends so heavily on actors, costumes, and set design. But that doesn’t excuse the 160 pages, the 100 page first act or the baffling absence of story for long stretches at a time. I remember in the first Conan, which Milius also wrote, Conan pushing that spindle as he grew from a boy into a man. That little montage was a minute long and told me more about that character (how difficult his childhood was) and drew me more into that world, then every single Kon school scene here combined.

I was going to give this a “What The Hell Did I Just Read,” because I just found nothing to grab onto in the story whatsoever. But there’s no denying Milius is brilliant with words. Combined with the extensive mythology he’s created, there’s too much skill on display for me to rate this at the bottom of the barrel, but it was so un-engaging and slow and self-important that I had no joy whatsoever reading it.

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

What I learned: Build characters through action. Not through 18 scenes that essentially tell us the same thing. I’m referring, of course, to that scene in the original Conan I just mentioned where we see him pushing the spindle into adulthood. That simple action tells us more than any dialogue ever could. Think about your favorite movies. All of the characters have moments of action that tell us who they are. We see it when Han blasts Greedo. We see it when Neo gives up on the ledge while running from the agents. We see it when Andy Dufrane DOESN’T cry that first night in Shawshank. We see it in how meticulously Wall-E takes care of the city. Those ACTIONS will always be the best way to convey a character to an audience. Favor them wherever you can.

Welcome to another week of Scriptshadow. This week, we have two mega-geek scripts we’re reviewing. The first is Peach Trees, the Judge Dredd project, which Roger reviews today. The second is a reimagining/sequel to a popular franchise from the past, a script that’s been around for a decade and is beloved by many. Well, I’ll just say right now that I have no idea why anyone would love this script. I was bored out of my mind. I’ll also be reviewing two low profile recent spec sales, both of which were quite good. And since it’s the last Friday of the month, that means Amateur Friday Review! I just picked out the script this morning so we’ll have to see if it’s any good. Right now, here’s ROGER with his review of the next Judge Dredd project.

Genre: Science-Fiction, Action
Premise: When Judge Dredd arrives with rookie Cassandra Anderson to investigate a trio of murders at high-rise called slum Peach Trees, a drug lord puts Peach Trees on nuclear lockdown and the Judges are trapped inside, hunted by the entire populace. The Judges must choose between escaping the building, or ascending two-hundred stories to prove the drug lord guilty and execute her.
About: Alex Garland (The Beach, 28 Days Later, Sunshine) writes this adaptation to the popular AD 2000 comic strip. Pete Travis (Vantage Point) is set to direct for DNA Films. Karl Urban will star. Judge Dredd was named the seventh greatest comic character by Empire Magazine, and in Britain, he’s certainly the most well-known.
Writer: Alex Garland

“Peach Trees. This is Ma-Ma. Somewhere in this block are two Judges. I want them dead. And until I get what I want, the block is locked down. All Clan, every level, hunt the Judges down. Everyone else, clear the corridors and stay the fuck out of our way until the shooting stops. If I hear about anyone helping the Judges, I’ll kill them and the next generation of their family.”

Peach Trees is the high-rise Judge Dredd becomes trapped in, a mega-slum with a population of a hundred thousand people that are either trying to kill or hide from the iconic character as he ascends two-hundred stories to prove a drug lord guilty and execute her.

It’s a plot stripped of any supercilious details that’s less Hollywood and more 2000 AD, a simple framework that possesses the brilliance of taking a well-known comic book hero and placing him inside a contained thriller.

It’s like taking Batman and putting him in Die Hard.

I remember the 1995 Judge Dredd movie.

While not a reader of the British comic strip, even I could tell that something was amiss. The tone was all over the place. Here was a simple character that was supposed to be a faceless personification of justice, but this personification has Rob Schneider as a sidekick and Sylvester Stallone as a face. Stallone is quoted as saying, “It didn’t live up to what it could have been. It probably should have been much more comic, really humorous, and fun. What I learned out of that experience was that we shouldn’t have tried to make it Hamlet; it’s more Hamlet and Eggs…”

While I don’t agree that it should have been more comic (Sorry, I can only stand one Rob Schneider in a movie), I do think Stallone had a point. The ambition and scale of the plot does not serve the character. A story that is supposed to be about a futuristic gunslinger whom possesses no sympathy for either criminal or victim is lost in a framework that somehow includes cloning, the Hero’s Journey, the power struggles of a dysfunctional family, cannibals and Sly unintentionally but comically screaming, “I am the Law!”

There was plenty of humor, but not enough, I dunno, carnage.

It wasn’t visceral.

I suppose the idea of a Judge trying to clear his name with the law can make for interesting conflict, but I don’t want to watch court scenes.

I want to watch Judge Dredd shoot bad guys with his Lawgiver Gun.

Wait. I don’t know anything about Judge Dredd or Mega City One. Does Alex Garland tell an origin story?

Nope.

And, that’s what makes “Peach Trees” so refreshing.

All you need to know is that it’s the future, and that there’s a guy who will shoot bullets through civilians (endangering them, but not killing them) to execute criminals.

Mega City One is the last outpost of civilization in post-apocalyptic America. It’s a series of mega blocks, monolithic high-rises that serve as their own self-contained towns, stretching from Boston to Washington. Skyscrapers are the low-rise buildings peppered between them.

When we meet Dredd he’s suiting up. We meet his Lawgiver Gun, which seems to be matched to his DNA. The whole time, the top half of his face is hidden by his visor, and we only see chin and mouth, “as if they have been carved from rock.”

He chases a car full of Slo-Mo junkies on his motorbike. Slo-Mo is a drug administered via inhaler, and not only does it slow down time for its users, it causes the world to look beautiful, iridescent and bright. When the junkies steamroll some civilians trying to get away from the Judge, they start to die.

Presumably, Dredd has all the authority of police, judge, jury and executioner.

Especially executioner.

While they die, we learn that the Lawgiver is voice-activated and contains many different kinds of ammo. We also learn something about Dredd. He has phenomenal aim, even when he has to place a shot through a civilian, “Remain calm. The bullet missed all major organs, and a paramedic team will be with you shortly.”

Does Dredd get a sidekick in this tale?

Rookie Cassandra Anderson is an orphan who was given a Judge aptitude test (as is standard for orphans) at age nine. Although her score was unsuitable, she was entered into the Academy upon special instruction. When we meet her, we learn that her final Academy score is three percentile points below a pass.

As she stands before the Chief Judge, Dredd wonders why she’s in uniform. When Anderson is able to point out how many people are in the next room observing her, without seeing them mind you, we realize that she’s a psychic, a power she possibly developed as a child because she lived one hundred meters from a radiation boundary wall. While the fall-out proximity made her a mutant, it also killed her parents.

Although she’s failed the Academy, the Chief Judge is giving her one more chance. She’s to spend a day out in the field with Dredd, and he’s to assess whether she makes the grade or not, “Sink or swim. Chuck her in the deep end.”

“It’s all the deep end.”

Dredd informs of her what to expect out there. If she sentences someone incorrectly, she automatically fails. If she doesn’t obey a direct order from him, she automatically fails. If she loses her primary weapon, or if it’s taken from her, she automatically fails.

That’s all the stuff she knows.

What she doesn’t know is that she’s in for the most fucked-up day of her life.

She gets trapped inside of Peach Trees with Dredd?

Yep.

The Judges only respond to six percent of the seventeen thousand serious crimes reported per day, and a slum like Peach Trees, which has a ninety-six percent employment rate, is rarely visited by a Judge.

Because it’s rarely seen a Judge, someone like Madeline Madrigal has risen to power.

A character possibly inspired by real-life bandit queen, Phoolan Devi, Ma-Ma is a former prostitute who supposedly feminized a pimp with her teeth and took over his syndicate. More violent than all of the other crime lords and clans, she runs Peach Tree from her Dolce & Gabbana crack den-esque penthouse on the top floor of the two-hundred story building. She is responsible for the distribution of Slow-Mo in Mega City One.

As a testament to her ultraviolent nature, she has her lieutenants, Caleb, Kay and Sy, murder a trio of dealers who were caught selling a competitor’s product. They pump the dealers full of Slo-Mo, skin them alive (and because the brain moves at one-percent of normal speed while on the narcotic, this must seem to last an eternity) and toss them off the balcony of the atrium that rises through the center of the building as a message.

Of course, Dredd and Anderson arrive to find the bodies, and thanks to a helpful paramedic, they’re told how things work under Ma-Ma’s rule and he tips them off to the Slo-Mo distribution headquarters on Level 39. The Judges shoot up the joint, and we’re treated to our first gun fight which should blow people’s minds in the cinema thanks to the combo of the Slow-Mo point-of-view and the 3D. They manage to capture Kay, who has a tattoo of Judge Death on his chest (undead Judges?) and they get in an elevator to take him out Peach Trees.

Their goal is to interrogate him, learn everything he knows, which will give them enough evidence to return and arrest Ma-Ma. Only problem is, Ma-Ma can’t have this happen, so she has her Clan Techie, a dude who has robotic eye implants like a chameleon lizard, takes control of the building’s computers and he socially hacks Sector Control to run a systems test.

Peach Trees’ system control goes into a nuclear war testing drill and the building is suddenly encased in lead-lined shutters, blast doors that can withstand nuclear attack. Not only does this trap the Judges and the population inside, but it cuts off Dredd’s communication link with Control.

So, Ma-Ma announces to Peach Trees that she wants the Judges dead?

Pretty much. It’s a sequence that sort of took my breath away. I couldn’t help but be glued to the page as Dredd and Anderson are standing in the middle of the atrium, looking up at two-hundred stories of balconies as the clans and warlords begin to organize to collect the bounty on their heads.

You can’t help but wonder how much ammo those Lawgiver guns of theirs have.

As Dredd and Anderson struggle between avoiding detection and their duty as people that embody justice, they have to ultimately decide if they should just escape, or if they should ascend all two-hundred stories to prove Ma-Ma guilty and execute her.

To get the evidence, they have to get Kay to talk. But to get Kay to talk, they have to survive an entire population that is trying to murder them so they can get a quiet moment with him. While things are simple for Dredd, it’s a moral dilemma for Anderson. As a telepath, she is empathetic to some of the people who are caught in the cross-fire, and she really has to decide if all this is worth being a Judge.

How is the action?

Very satisfying.

This thing has fucking micro-genocides in it.

Ma-Ma is willing to kill entire floors full of people to stop the Judges, and she pulls out every weapon and trick and soldier she has to achieve her goal, which may include a quartet of dirty Judges as her ace in the hole.

It’s enthralling and because this is the type of shoot-em-up I love, and because Dredd never takes off his helmet, even when facing his worst fear, I give this an…

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

What I learned: I’m still impressed that someone is making a comicbook movie that isn’t an origin story. This isn’t about the creation of a hero or antihero, this is about the character being put in a worst case scenario and seeing if he can just make it out alive. It’s a new formula. Take a popular character and put them in a situation that is basically the worst series of obstacles ever. Or take a superhero and put him inside a contained thriller. In a climate where it seems like Hollywood will never tire of making comicbook movies, this script proves that these tales can be told without telling their back story as the movie. Secondly, as a shoot-em-up, Garland has created a pretty cool cinematic device with the drug Slow-Mo. Although it makes the world slow down for its users, it doesn’t give them super-speed. However, there are lots of POV shots, especially in the middle of the action, and it gives those action sequences more of an edge than just a straight shoot-out.

SPOILERS and NO SCRIPT LINKS below.

Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: (from IMDB) In a world where technology exists to enter the human mind through dream invasion, a single idea within one’s mind can be the most dangerous weapon or the most valuable asset.
About: Risking what might be the biggest payout for a director behind Cameron, Lucas, and Jackson, by passing up a direct-into-production follow-up to The Dark Knight, Nolan took advantage of maybe the only opportunity he’ll ever have to make a no-expenses-spared version of this script.
Writer: Christopher Nolan

Okay, this is going to be a blog entry in the truest sense because I’m writing it stream-of-conscious. This will result in a disjointed and herky-jerky review but if there’s any movie review that benefits from such a style, it’s this one.

I didn’t know anything about Inception going in except for a glimpse of the city folding up on itself and that it was something about dreams. So I really had no idea what to expect.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Inception cannot be summarized by a line, paragraph, or even a review. It’s a weird multi-layered journey into a constantly-changing dreamland. To be honest, I’m not even sure if it works. It’s so bizarre, it’s so ambitious, that the film requires multiple-viewings to sort it all out. But as far as what I experienced in this single viewing, these are my thoughts.

A quick breakdown of the plot: Cobb and his team are guns for hire that break into people’s dreams and steal information from them (secret documents, money, whatever the client needs) that these people otherwise wouldn’t reveal in real life. Cobb is recruited by a man named Saito, who owns the second biggest energy company in the world. Saito is worried that his biggest competitor is about to squeeze him out of business. It just so happens that the owner of this competitor is dying, and that his son, Robert Fischer Jr., will be taking over. Saito wants to implant information into Fischer to prevent him from continuing his father’s plans. This is known as an “inception,” — the hardest kind of dream altering there is.

That’s really barebones but my head will explode if I try and explain more. First let’s get to the bad. And I’m just going to come out and say it. The wife storyline was fucking stupid. Every time we went back to Marian Coutillard, the movie grinded to a screeching halt. I appreciate what Nolan was trying to do. I understand how much deeper it made DiCaprio’s character. I understand how it complicated the plot and kept the dreamworld uncertain. But it was a colossal failure. We just kept repeating the saaaaame things over and over again. She wants him to come with her into the dreamworld. WE GET IT! Ironically, the more they repeat this, the more confusing it gets, and by the end I didn’t know if he had a wife, had children, if he was in a dream or not or what the hell she had to do with the story in any capacity.

The funny thing is that the core of this idea is cool and could’ve worked. She’s almost like the bad guy in the beginning, jumping into his dreams and fucking everything up for him. A character like that with dream-like powers/abilities…I mean the possibilities are endless. Yet she’s relegated to whining her ass off the whole second half of the film, asking DiCaprio for the 800th time if he’ll stay with her. Ugh.

Second problem, the exposition. This film IS exposition. Every scene has it. A dozen scenes are practically dedicated to it. And there’s so much to remember that we should’ve been given notepads on our way into the theater. Now a lot of the exposition is fun, because it’s telling us about how the dreamworld and the extraction process works, but Nolan’s so smart and so careful, that he wants to make sure you don’t say, “Yeah but, what if this happens?” So he makes sure to answer every single question the audience might have about the process so as to plug up every single hole. So yes, it makes sense in the end, but at what cost? Characters doling out 3 to 4 page monologues? Is that worth it?

But outside of those two things, I thought the rest was pretty much awesome. There were times when I had trouble keeping up, but once I understood the world and understood what they were trying to do, I really dug it.

I loved the dream within a dream within a dream within a dream (yes, four of them!) plan. I loved how each individual dream had its own point, its own goal (Indian guy had to avoid the bad guys in van dream, Gordon-Levitt had to protect them in the hotel dream, and then all hell broke loose and multiple people needed to be protected/extracted in the third dream). I loved all the Gordon-Levitt stuff in the hotel when he was bouncing around walls and wrapping people up to prepare for the “kick.” I didn’t like Gordon-Levitt before this. Dude just made me the president of his fan club.

I loved the coordinated triple kick where they had to be falling in each successive dream at the perfect time. I loved how the deeper you go into the dream tree, the more time you have, and how Nolan showed that with the slow-motion van falling (for those who haven’t seen it – the van falls for 10 seconds, but in a dream within a dream within a dream reality, that’s like a week). We have some fun with ticking time bombs on this site. This is a ticking time bomb fucking frenzy! There’s ticking time bombs on four different levels. It’s totally wild.

The only dream scenario I didn’t dig was the whole Russian ski-patrol blizzard base. Did Cillian Murphy’s character watch a lot of Roger Moore James Bond films as a child? This was the only part that felt out of place.

From a structural standpoint, the basics are all taken care of. We have a solid ultimate goal: implant the inception into Cillian’s character’s mind so that Saito retains control over the energy business. We have a great motivation for the main character. If he succeeds, he gets to go back to America to be with his children. And even though it takes us awhile to get to that story, Nolan uses a series of sequences to keep the audience focused in the meantime: Find an architect, get the architect back after she refuses, train the architect, find a chemist, find the mind expert (Eames), train and prepare the team for the inception. Late-starting stories are always a gamble, especially on the page, but if you have goal-oriented sequences to keep us focused til we get there, it can work.

There were some minor quibbles. Ken Wantanabe is the man with the power to get Dicaprio back to his children. So when he goes down in the dream world and is dying, why is everyone so casual about it? This guy is THE MOST IMPORTANT MAN THERE.

I’m still not sure why DiCaprio had to go into the fourth-level down dream. To get his wife? What did his wife have to do with this mission? That part felt so forced.

And also, when you have the ability to literally do anything and show anything because of the warped physics and personality of the dreamworld, shouldn’t you show us more than a weird decaying city in the background for the finale? The big money special effects shots were wasted on bullshit exposition scenes like when he tricks Ellen Paige at the cafe and has everything blow up. Why aren’t we saving those effects and doing ten times crazier things in the ending?

Overall, this is really complicated film and one I’ll be wrapping my head around for awhile. I might see it again in the theater (which is rare for me) so that says something. It does leave you with a *feeling*. It’s hard to describe but it definitely affects you in ways normal movies do not. I’d put this as my second favorite film of the year behind Toy Story 3. It’s weird and different and worth the ride if you’re even the slightest bit interested.

[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] Wasn’t for me.
[ ] Worth the matinee.
[x] Worth a regular-priced ticket.
[ ] Impressive
[ ] Genius

What I learned: If your main story goal starts late, make sure you’ve lined up a series of compelling “mini-stories” to keep us interested in the meantime. The goal here is the inception of Cillian Murphy’ character. But that doesn’t start until 50-60 pages into the script. So essentially, the first half (or third) of the script is dedicated to putting a team together so they can perform this task. That portion is broken down into smaller mini-stories, like I listed above, that have simple goals for the protagonist to perform (find this person, build the dream world, set up the kidnapping). As long as your characters are going after a strong and immediate goal, your audience won’t notice that the central plot hasn’t started yet.