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Genre: Fairy-tale Mash-up
Premise: Snow White teams up with a local hunter to take down her evil step-mother, Ravenna.
About: This is the spec script that sold for 1.5 million last week. Evan Daugherty was working as an intern a couple of years ago. He won the Script Pimp contest in 2008 with his script, “Shrapnel,” which John McTiernan later committed to direct. Something tells me that one’s going to be in development for at least another year. Shrapnel led to him doing a rewrite on He-Man, which eventually led to this huge sale. If there is such a thing as the moment every screenwriter dreams of, this would be it. 
Writer: Evan Daugherty (inspired by the Brothers Grimm’s “Little Snow White.”)
Details: 110 pages – undated (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).

When this sale happened, my first thought was, “I couldn’t write a script like that in a million years.” This subject matter is so far out of my field of expertise (whatever that is) I felt a little like a member of the Cannes jury having just been told the plot to Star Wars Episode 1, The Phantom Menace. i.e. Confused.

So there’s…Snow White? And she…teams up with a huntsman? But isn’t Snow White dead? Doesn’t she live with dwarves? I was definitely the grandma someone was trying to explain the internet to.

Yet these reimagining fairy tale/historical mash-ups are plugging their way through the Hollywood pipeline and everyone’s banking on them becoming the next big thing (costing no money for rights cause they’re in the public domain certainly doesn’t hurt).

Snow White and The Huntsman follows Miss White’s life as a princess, which for all intents and purposes is pretty sweet. She’s got a strapping young prince doting over her. She loves her family. And paparazzi won’t be invented for another 300 years.

But then her mother, the queen, dies, and because pops can’t keep it in his pants, he marries some hot young trophy wife, the evil Ravenna. Ravenna’s got all sorts of issues, but her biggest one is her desperate desire to look prettier than everyone else in the land.

So obsessed is she with this desire that she hires a local huntsman to seek out the hottest women he can find, capture them, and bring them back to her. She then puts them through the hot girl juicer, a machine that sucks the youth out of these poor women, turning it into juice, which Ravenna then drinks so she can stay young and hot.

Well word on the street is that Snow White is eerily close to becoming the fairest woman in the land, so it’s time for that bitch to get juiced too. But Snow White doesn’t wanna get juiced, and runs into the forest, where she eventually teams up with The Hunstman, who reluctantly helps her escape to freedom.

Of course, in a nod to films like Romancing The Stone and The Princess Bride, these two simply don’t like each other, so there’s a lot of arguing, a lot of not understanding the other’s way, and a lot of repressed desiring.

Eventually Snow White realizes that if she’s going to survive in the wild, she’ll need the particular skillset of the huntsman, and so she forces Hunty to teach her the way of the land. Now I know the question all of you are dying to have me answer so I’ll confirm it right here: YES, our seven dwarfs make an appearance.  In fact, our seven dwarfs are pretty badass, and become a key component later in defeating the queen.  

I’m always amazed by the imagination of these worlds. First of all, let’s face it, fairy tales are fucked up to begin with. Who thinks up a story where a dead woman sleeps in a coffin with a bunch of gnomes?  Since when do wolves have super-human blowing powers and blow down houses…with PIGS in them???  And isn’t there a fairy tale where a bunch of people live in a giant shoe?  They must have smoked a lot of dope back in the 1600s, I’ll tell you that.  So to then take an already freaky premise and further freak it into something weirder has to be considered a unique talent.  So I give credit to Daugherty there.

From a structural perspective, I was also impressed. Snow White having to escape off into the woods was a solid first act break. But more importantly, Daugherty knows how to build through that second act, realizing that if he just gave us Snow White and The Huntsman arguing for 60 pages we’d be bored out of our minds. So he adds plenty of complications (the seven dwarves, an old boyfriend, some bounty hunters, Ravenna’s impending second marriage) to keep us on our toes. It all builds to a solid third act, where the forces of good and evil engage in a final smackdown, and while it doesn’t reinvent the wheel, it definitely works.

Now I’ve been reading quite a few of these mash-up scripts on the amateur front and the reason Snow White is better is that everything’s been thought through here. The amateur scripts always feel like a bunch of wacky ideas haphazardly spilled onto the page. It’s like the writers just want credit for being weird and different.  Form, structure, character, really aren’t that important to them.

But this script pays attention to the details.  Take the character of The Huntsman for example. This isn’t just a wise-cracking rogue who’s winking at the audience. His wife was killed years ago by a wolf, and he’s been hunting that wolf ever since. There’s a sadness to this man, a void in him that gives his character weight, that makes him a real person.

I really felt like all the edges of this house were inspected before they put it on the market.  I can’t say the same for the amateur scripts I read, where 60-75% effort is the norm.

I guess the big question I have about Snow White and The Huntsman is, who is it being marketed to? Snow White is very much a little girl’s fairy tale, so that’s your built in demographic right there. Yet this is an edgy grown-up reimagining of the character. So who goes to see it? Will 14 year old boy’s flock to see a Snow White film? I don’t know. And what about adults? Isn’t this too kiddie for them? It’s one of those weird films that seems to be targeted to everyone and yet to no one. Okay, I’m starting to sound like Matrix Reloaded dialogue now, so I’ll move on.

This was a hard script to judge. As a piece of screenwriting, there’s a lot of good stuff in here. But if I’m being honest there isn’t a single aspect of this subject matter that interests me. I felt like I was reading two stories, the one I was admiring as a screenplay and the one about a fairy tale I could care less about. In the end, there’s too much good here not to recommend, but you definitely won’t be catching me at the premiere.

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

What I learned: If I were a studio executive and this landed on my desk, I would’ve passed. My response? “Wasn’t my thing.” Does that mean it didn’t deserve to be bought? Of course not. One of the sucky things about this business is that many times when someone passes on a script of yours, you have no idea why. Talking with managers and agents and producers, one of the things I’ve realized is that sometimes people pass simply because it “wasn’t their thing.” It could be expertly written. It could be a great concept. It could have a killer main character. But that particular producer has no interest in that kind of movie. This can actually empower you when you think about it. If someone passes on your script, don’t let it get you down. Simply assume that it wasn’t their thing and move on to the next guy. Cause that next guy might end up paying you 1.5 million dollars for it.

Genre: Drama
Premise: An upper middle class suburban man who loses his 15 year old daughter to a car crash befriends another 15 year old girl eight years later.
About: Welcome To The Rileys came out of Sundance with a lot of buzz. It has an interesting cast with James Gandolfini and Kristin Stewart playing the leads. Ken Hixon, the writer, is probably best known for writing City By The Sea, the Robert De Niro starrer from 2002, and Inventing The Abbots, from 1997. Rileys hits theaters at the end of October.
Writer: Ken Hixon
Details: 123 pages – undated (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).

Welcome To The Rileys is another one of these early Oscar contenders. “Early Oscar Contender,” of course, is synonymous with  “Indie movie which desperately needs Oscar buzz to make money.”  Which is fine.  James Gandolfini gotta eat.  But you always gotta be leary of these movies with Oscar buzz in September. 

Actually, I have to come clean on something. I’ve really soured on independent film. A lot of that world has become a breeding ground for directors and actors to play around and experiment with things that the studios would never allow them to do but the scripts themselves have been lacking.  Oftentimes they’re too self-important (Rachel Getting Married) or too heavy (Frozen River).  It’s rare that we get one that really rocks like the Alfonso Cuaron masterpiece, Children Of Men (btw, it sounds like Natalie Portman will be starring in Gravity). 

I can remember the moment I first started questioning independent film. I’d heard about this movie called “Maria Full Of Grace” that was, according to all the critics, phenomenal. I raced over to the Santa Monica theater on 2nd street for the 11:15 A.M. Friday opening day show and proceeded to watch…the – most – average – movie – ever! It was the big budget equivalent of watching “The International,” just an average plot with average execution that you forget one second after you leave the theater.  Up until that point, the indie marketing strong hand had convinced me that every one of their movies was a secret stash of gold that only cinephiles knew about.  After that, I had a whole new perspective.

In fact, I would argue that out of the roughly ten bonafied “good” movies that come out every year, studios are either even with the independent circuit or a little better.  

But low and behold, today’s script might have found it’s way into that Top 10 spot.  I don’t know how well Welcome To The Riley’s the film panned out (I’m personally a little worried about the casting), but as a script, it’s good stuff. 

Rileys starts off with a car crash on a dark lonely intersection eight years ago. We don’t know why this crash is important yet, but we will soon. Jump to eight years later where we meet Doug Riley, the 56 year old president of a plumbing firm, and a man who’s clearly drifting through life. Doug lives in upper-middle-class suburbia with his wife Lois, who’s developed a severe case of agoraphobia, refusing to ever leave the house.

We find out the reason these two have essentially given up on life is because their 15 year old daughter was killed in that car crash we saw at the beginning of the film.

When Doug’s mistress, the only person keeping him sane, dies unexpectedly, he decides to go down to a plumbing convention in Savannah, if only to clear his mind for the weekend. On his first night out, he spots some men from the convention coming his way and in order to avoid talking to them, he ducks into a strip club. He immediately spots a clumsy young dancer dancing on one of the side stages.  Mallory is a dead ringer for his dead daughter. 

Doug finds himself ordering a private dance in order to talk to her, but Mallory is far from the refined middle class daughter he once knew. All she talks about is sex, all she asks for is money, and she seems genuinely baffled that Doug doesn’t want to have sex with her.

Their conversation leads them back to Mallory’s place, a dump in the icky part of Savannah, and within a couple of days, Doug is doing her laundry and cleaning her place, essentially becoming a surrogate father to this part time underage stripper/hooker. 

Back in Indianopolis, when Lois hears that Doug isn’t coming home anytime soon, she does the unthinkable, forcing herself out of the house and into their car, beginning a blind drive from Indiana to Savannah. Since she hasn’t engaged in society in over eight years, her experience is not unlike an alien’s on a new planet. She doesn’t know what to do, how to act, who to talk to. When the car starts chatting with her, for instance, she almost has a heart attack.  She’s never heard of On Star before. 

As you’d expect, Doug and Mallory’s situation is akin to that trailer for the new Denzel Washington movie about a train full of chemicals barreling towards the heart of the city (Yes, the rumors are true, Denzel only does movies about trains now).  We know it’s going to crash and burn unless she commits to his lifestyle or he commits to hers.  If they keep living in this dope den, nothing good is going to come of it. 

I admit that Welcome To The Rileys is a movie I usually give the Heisman to. In fact, some might argue that it’s the exact type of film I was referencing above, a laborious indie ride with no plot. But Welcome To The Rileys has more going on for it than you think, namely really interesting characters, and lots of conflict.

Take Doug for example. He’s unable to communicate with his wife on any level since she’s withdrawn from society, so there’s conflict between them. Doug doesn’t want Mallory doing what she’s doing, so there’s conflict between them. Doug still refuses to accept his daughter’s death. So there’s conflict inside of him. His business associate and friend doesn’t want him to sell the company because it will put him out of a job, so there’s conflict (pressure) pushing on him there. Each character here is experiencing conflict on several different levels, which really makes up for the film’s lack of plot. 

Here’s what you have to remember. If you don’t have a plot, you have to have memorable, original, interesting characters steeped in conflict. This conflict is essentially the car that’s driving your story, so it really has to be thought through. As soon as that conflict runs out of gas, you better find the nearest Conflict Station because you ain’t going nowhere without it.

If Welcome To The Rileys runs into any trouble, it’s in that it’s dark and depressing, to the point where it will turn people off. This isn’t shiny happy REM people here so if you’re not in the mood for a rough ride, you’re not going to like it. Indeed I wanted more humorous moments like Mallory and Doug trying to find common ground, as these two were possibly the most opposite human beings on the planet.  But these moments are pretty sparse, and I’m not sure I would’ve responded if I weren’t in the mood for something so bleak (why I was in the mood for bleak, I have no idea!).  I think that’s why I loved American Beauty so much. It nailed that perfect balance between humor and drama, bringing a smile to your face just as often as it brought tears. Having said that, Rileys does have a little bit of American Beauty in it, in that it explores the facade of the perfect happy family unit in suburbia (and in a totally unique way!)

If you’re in the mood for a dark piece with some good writing, I’d recommend you check this out. It’s quite good.

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

What I learned: Try to get those three elements of conflict into your script if possible. Conflict inside your character (internal conflict), conflict between your characters (intra conflict) and conflict pushing on your characters (external conflict). You want to do this no matter what kind of story you’re telling, but pay extra attention to it if you’re writing a character piece with little to no plot, such as Welcome To The Rileys.

How did anyone survive without Scriptshadow on Monday? I think one guy wrote in from Germany saying he was going to kill himself cause I didn’t post a review. Or maybe he said he was going to kill me. Either way, I’m sorry but I really needed a break. I’ll try to make it up to you this week with a script from a very high profile comedy writing team and another script from an Oscar winner. Requests for the latter script have been flooding my inbox for weeks. I’m tempted to tell you how it went right now but what fun would that be? Heh heh heh. Roger Balfour isn’t going to make you wait though. Here he is with a review of Fright Night.

Genre: Horror
Premise: When a teenager learns that his next door neighbor is a vampire, no one will believe him.
About: Craig Gillespie is helming this modern retelling of this 1985 horror theater classic, that was written and directed by Tom Holland and starred Chris Sarandon, William Ragsdale and Roddy McDowall. Marti Noxon (Buffy, Angel, Grey’s Anatomy, Mad Men) has retweaked the story for a new generation. Leading the cast is Colin Farrell, Anton Yelchin, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Toni Collette and David Tennant.
Writer: Marti Noxon


I remember watching repeats of the original Fright Night on the local tv station, which is probably the perfect way to watch a vampire movie that plays as a sort of paean to the genre with its Horror Movie-obsessed protagonist and his Horror TV Host mentor. I re-watch it every October, as it’s perfect for Halloween not just because it’s a scary movie, but because it’s nostalgic. There’s a spirit in the story and performances that harkens back to Dark Shadows, Drive-In Creature Features and Christopher Lee Hammer Horror flicks. Just the perfect movie to watch on a cold autumn night when the neighborhood is decorated with jack-o-lanterns, skeletons and fake cobwebs.

As a cinephile, I’ve reached a point where I sometimes scoff at the news of a remake, but realistically, I know it shouldn’t bother me. It’s not like the existence of a remake erases the memory of the original, its arrival into the world causing the destruction of all celluloid, Betamax, VHS, DVD and Blu-ray copies of its cinematic progenitor. I guess it’s the idea that’s offensive. It’s the knee-jerk “How Dare They!” reaction we can have at Hollywood re-milking teats that, sacredly, should maybe be left alone for artistically honorable and moral reasons. But, what am I talking about? This is Hollywood! This is a business! This is all about re-milking teats!
The fact that the suits chose Marti Noxon as a writer shows that someone cares about honoring the original vampire story, for who better to re-tell Fright Night than a former Buffy scribe?
I’m here to report that aside from a few minor quibbles, at least script-wize, that this remake script is so close (maybe too close) to the original that it feels like a clone that’s been fitted with changes and tweaks that are all about making the story more immediate to a new generation of geeks and horror hounds.
It’s fun, but very familiar.
I’ve never seen Fright Night, Rog. What’s this about?
Charlie Brewster is enjoying his newborn cool kid status. Previously a fantasy and horror geek like his former best friend, Evil Ed, Brewster is on the tail-end of a growth spurt that’s transformed him from typical acne-ridden nerd to a cool kid who is accepted by the jocks. He’s surprised that his hot track star girlfriend, Amy, sticks around despite his quirky non-jock-like foibles, and can’t believe that she seems to be really into him.
Charlie’s traded collecting genre kitsch like Magic: The Gathering Cards for more socially acceptable fare like cool sneakers. This is a point of conflict for his seemingly estranged former best bud, Evil Ed, who is jealous of his friend’s new found insider status and seems genuinely hurt that Brewster has abandoned him. I think their friendship and falling out hints at something a lot of teenage males (and females) go through when they enter high-school: People either genuinely change or they change themselves to survive the boiling social pot that is high-school. In the process, they leave friends behind.
To complicate matters, Evil Ed believes that something is hunting and killing off entire families in their Shadow Hills suburbia. He carries around a map that charts the sites of disappearing families, and, according to his map, the center of all this activity is either Charlie’s house or the houses surrounding it.
A horror hound, he believes that a vampire is at work in their community, responsible for the sudden disappearance of their dwindling classmates. When he tries to tell Charlie this theory, they have a fight and Brewster blows him off.
It’s only when Evil Ed disappears that Charlie starts to suspect that his new neighbor is more than human.
Is Charlie’s neighbor a vampire?
Consider the evidence.
Jerry is an American Adonis, a guy that all the women on Charlie’s street are drawn to. When we first see his house, we note that he has a huge dumpster on his lawn. It’s full of concrete. His explanation to Charlie’s single real estate broker mom? He’s having to tear up and rebuild part of his foundation.
Why are his windows tinted and blacked out and covered up? They’re near Las Vegas, where people who work on the strip work at night. They sleep during the day. And, of course, Jerry says he works on the strip.
Consider more about the setting.
Those disappearing families? Well, there is a mortgage crisis and a lot of homes are foreclosing and people are moving out. If you think about it, it’s kind of the perfect community for a creature of the night to operate in.
Jerry is quite fond of Charlie’s mother, but she’s no push-over when it comes to guys. Sure, she thinks he’s beautiful, but she’s had a lot of bad luck with men. While he constantly tries to get inside the house, she never feels the need to invite him in.
It’s during one of these encounters that they share a moment. Charlie studies Jerry as he lingers on the threshold. They make eye contact and Jerry suddenly knows what Charlie is thinking. He tells Charlie to let back off, otherwise something might happen to his mom, or his girlfriend, Amy. It’s a creepy moment, and Charlie starts to frantically monitor Jerry and his activity.
The first real turn away from the plot of the original is when Charlie infiltrates Jerry’s house to save a woman, and discovers just why Jerry kept a dumpster full of concrete on his lawn. The dude has built cells underneath his house where he’s keeping his food supply, and we’re treated to a great cat & mouse sequence (reminded me of stuff in Suburbia) with a jarring conclusion once our hero gets the captive out into the daylight.
It’s at this point when he realizes he’s going to need to call in a professional.
Who is the professional?
Charlie travels to Las Vegas to request the help of one Peter Vincent, an over-the-top Goth shock magician who is all black leather pants, tattoos and attitude. He’s a purported expert on not only horror culture and the occult, but is a self-proclaimed expert on vampires.
All of this might possibly be all show business, a persona created by someone who is just the opposite.
At first, Peter blows Charlie off as a quack, but there’s something about the teenager’s story that haunts him. Something that might have something to do with Peter’s back-story.
Cool, so a shock magician and a teenager get to battle a vampire and his brood?
Pretty much. There’s a vampire attack on Peter’s guarded Las Vegas high-rise, a chase sequence through suburbia involving all the important females in Charlie’s life, and a final act three invasion on Jerry’s house and the monsters therein.
How’s it compare to the original?
Although these changes make it more accessible to a younger audience who have never seen a TV Horror Host, I wonder if it’ll still appealing to those of us who have. Granted, a magician is cool, and it makes sense (and they have David Tennant playing the part), but there’s just something about an old-school Horror Host that trumps a Criss Angel-like illusionist. Regardless, it works in this iteration and we won’t be able to see how all these changes hold up to the original until we see the finished movie. It’s gonna come down to the performances. Will they be as memorable as the ones by Roddy McDowall, Chris Sarandon and Stephen Geoffreys? They captured a strange magic together, and I wonder if this new cast will be able to tap into the same heady gothic brew.
The original has some great memorable horror culture moments. From the hypnotic dance club scene to the great cross-crushing Chris Sarandon scene (“You have to have faith for this to work on me!”), I was hard-pressed to find a moment in this script that measures in comparison, save for the part where the vampire blows up Charlie’s home, “Don’t need an invitation if there’s no house.” There’s also some stuff involving Evil Ed’s siege on Peter Vincent’s Las Vegas high-rise that will be memorable, but it will come down to the delivery by Christopher Mintz-Plasse. Stephen Geoffrey’s had a great obnoxious, cheesy mania to his performance that both grates and delights the ears, and I’m interested to see the McLovin version of Evil Ed. Will he seize the mantle and carry on the tradition sans career twist into hardcore gay porno actor, or will he be found wanting?
Also, there’s no shapeshifting! Where the hell are the creature transformations? The vamps don’t turn into wolves or bats in this thing. As a kid, I loved seeing the heroes get chased around a house by a wolf. And, I certainly loved seeing the wolf morph back into a dying Evil Ed. There are no moments like this because none of these vampires shape-shift. I feel like the filmmakers are depriving their audience of some great moments by leaving out this genre trope.
Despite my reservations, there’s an Amblin flick feel to this script that I enjoyed. From the suburban setting, to the Jaws-like portrayal of the vampire, to the threat on the modern (single mom) family unit and Charlie’s suiting-up moment before his final attack on the vampire’s house (reminded me of something out of Arachnophobia or The Lost Boys), I did feel like Noxon buried some of that 80s nostalgia underneath the modern mortgage crisis and horror illusionist wrapping paper. In a weird way, compared to all the other scripts I’ve been reading, I found the read refreshing.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Teaser prologue. If you’re writing a horror story, whether it be a monster movie or a ghost story, it’s usually wise to kick things off with a quick teaser that hints at the menace your story will be about. In Fright Night, there’s a three page sequence that’s about a teenager trying to survive a deadly and mysterious attack on his suburban family by an unseen threat. We see glimpses of something tearing apart bodies. We see glimpses of something…not human. Your first act will be all about establishing your setting, characters, world and story. These things usually are a slow-build up, so it’s smart to kick things off with a short sequence that shows your monsters or ghosts without showing your monsters or ghosts. Build a tense scene showing something horrible happening at the hands (or fangs) of your menace, but don’t give it all away. Create mystery, move along to your story, then when it’s right, show your creature, monster or ghost in all their creepy glory.

This is going to be a good week at Scriptshadow. We don’t have a single script that receives less than a “worth the read.” One of those scripts is shockingly good exorcism story, one a comedy, and one a script that wasn’t very good but has an insane approach to it that, combined with the “universally loved by all geeks” director, is going to make it a must read. Finally, we’ll finish off with a new Top 25 script, a crime drama that blew me away. And I don’t even like crime drama, so you know it’s good. Right now Roger’s going to review a genre and a screenwriter he knows well. Let’s give him our full attention.

Genre: Old Fashioned Ghost Story, Gothic Horror
Premise: When Arthur Kipps, a young widower and solicitor, leaves his son in London to settle the legal affairs of the recently deceased Alice Drablow, proprietor of the Eel Marsh House in Crythin Gifford, he finds himself in a life and death struggle with a specter whom is killing all of the town’s children.

About: Based on a 1983 novel by English author, Susan Hill, “The Woman in Black” was adapted into a stage play (which still runs today in the UK), a couple of radio plays and a TV Movie for Britain’s ITV. Under the newly resurrected Hammer Film Productions, the script was written by Jane Goldman (
Kick-Ass, Stardust, The Debt, X-Men: First Class) and is set to star post-Harry Potter Daniel Radcliffe with James Watkins (Eden Lake) as director. Presumably this is the first script coming out of Goldman’s recent signing with William Morris Endeavor.
Writers: Jane Goldman, inspired by Susan Hill’s 1983 novel.

Details: 2
nd Draft. Dated August 3, 2010.


This is how it’s done.

Let’s forget the pedigree for a moment. Let’s forget this was a novel written by Susan Hill, a lady inspired by English ghost story masters M.R. James and Daphne du Maurier, a lady who understood setting, suspense and atmosphere. Let’s forget that said novel was creepily satisfying enough to be adapted into a stage play, a radio play and a TV movie in Britian. And, let’s forget that newly resurrected Hammer Horror returns to the cinemas swinging, not only with Let Me In and The Resident, but with this deliciously Gothic ghost story written by the foxy Jane Goldman (a former paranormal tv show host) and helmed by Eden Lake (have you seen this flick?!) director James Watkins.

Forget all that.
You can be completely ignorant of the history, tradition and the modern filmmakers involved and still be creeped-the-fuck-out by this terrifying M.R. Jamesian ghost story.
Why do you compare this tale to the work of M.R. James, Rog?
Jamesian storytelling can be categorized by (1) a protagonist who is a reserved and rather naive gentleman-scholar, (2) a characterful setting in an English village, seaside town or country estate, and (3) the discovery of an object or secret that attracts the attention of a malevolent supernatural menace.
James is also known for saying, “Another requisite, in my opinion, is that the ghost should be malevolent or odious; amiable and helpful apparitions are all very well in fairy tales or local legends, but I have no use for them in a fictitious ghost story.”
So, Arthur Kipps is a naïve gentleman?
Arthur is a young English solicitor who has been labeled as excess cargo by Mr. Bentley, head of the law firm which employs him. When we meet him, he’s getting ready for his trip to the seaside market town, Crythin Gifford, where he is to retrieve the legal documents for the recently deceased Alice Drablow. Mr. Bentley has put Arthur in charge of handling her estate, retrieving the deeds and resolving any matter that my hinder the sale of Drablow’s property, Eel Marsh House.
This is his chance to prove himself as more than baggage to the firm, and we’re immediately interested not because matters of real estate law intrigue us, but because we feel sympathy for Arthur Kipps and his situation.
You see, Arthur is a widower. His wife Stella died during childbirth, and he’s been left alone (save the Nanny) to tend to his frail and sickly son, Edward. Edward is only six years old and he receives medical treatment that Arthur can barely afford with his current wage. It’s not an option for him to lose his job, so this is a job that turns into a quest that will either make or break him.
His motivation is simple: Keep his son alive.
It seems easy enough. Gather all the dusty documents at Eel Marsh House and retrieve some papers from the local Crythin Gifford solicitor. It’s a simple snatch and grab job, right?
Wrong.
Arthur’s quest is immediately met by resistance as soon as he arrives in Crythin Gifford, elevating what should seem like a stroll in the park to a task that goes from annoying to impossible in a matter of hours.
What’s going on in Crythin Gifford?
Nothing good.
This place is either cursed or haunted or both, and in fact, this is something Arthur is gonna have to figure out if he wants to get out of this place alive.
On his train, Arthur meets Samuel Daily and his little dog, Spider. Samuel is a businessman who resides in Crythin Gifford. As him and Arthur get to talking, he suggests that Arthur is gonna have his work cut-out for him if he’s trying to sell Eel Marsh House. Daily deals with property himself, and he says that no one will touch the house.
No one in the little town owns an automobile, except for Daily, and fortunately, he offers to give Arthur a ride from the train station to the quaint market town.
At the Gifford Arms Inn, we learn that all of the rooms are occupied, even though there are only three or four people at the bar. The innkeeper and his wife say they’ll be able to host him in the attic for the night, but they say that even that space is booked for the rest of the week, despite Arthur’s firm telegraphing a reservation in advance.
The message is clear. These people are trying to get Arthur out of their town.
Arthur has a creepy night in the attic, and this is why: The beginning of the script opens with a chilling scene where three little girls, dressed in Victorian dresses and pinafores, are playing tea-party with their stuffed animals. As they play, we hear the market chatter outside…then suddenly, all three girls “stop and look up simultaneously, their eyes fixed on something across the room, their faces suddenly, disturbingly, blank.”
One by one, in synchronized movement, the three little girls stop what they’re doing, and in perfect unison, jump out the window.
We never see what they saw.
That’s on page one. One of the best first pages I’ve ever seen in a screenplay. Moving forward, that room they were playing in, that room they lived in, that’s where Arthur has to sleep the first night. Although he’s able to rest, it’s the atmosphere and expectation that contributes to the sense of dread that begins to bleed from the story, and by the time you make it to the mid-point, it’s all but saturating the pages.
The next day Arthur ventures to meet the local solicitor, Mr. Jerome. It’s this stroll through the town that we begin to notice that the townspeople are very, very, VERY protective of their children. They peer from behind picket fences while the fathers scowl at Arthur. The scenario reaches grotesque tones when we learn that Mr. Jerome and his wife are possibly keeping their daughter locked in a dungeon-like cellar to protect her from…death.
Jerome is hasty with Arthur, wants to get him out of the town. He’s gathered all documents and has arranged his assistant, Mr. Kenwick, to take him by pony and trap to the train station. Arthur wants to do a thorough job, and refuses to leave the town with missing documents.
He bribes Kenwick into taking him to Eel Marsh House.
What separates Eel Marsh House from other haunted houses?
Imagine a house on its own little island, separated from the mainland by “an incredible vista of shining marshland”. Nine Lives Causeway is the path that leads to the house, and at hightide, the causeway disappears and the house is unreachable.
Or inescapable.
For a few hours at least.
Not only is this a brooding, creepy and Gothic setting, it also adheres to the number one rule for all haunted houses: Aside from being haunted, the exits must be guarded with peril. These exits must be seemingly unreachable. If Alien was a haunted house story in space, the only exit was the airlock. And Ripley didn’t escape out of it. Instead, she blew the creature out of it. In the novel House of Leaves, the house had doors, but they became unreachable as the architecture of the house elongated and shifted to keep its victims inside, lost forever.
To make the island even more atmospheric and sinister, there’s a gnarled tree, a gatekeeper’s cottage and a family graveyard.
It seems that Mrs. Drablow was unorganized, and Arthur has given himself a week to hunt down and find all the appropriate documents, and it doesn’t help that the house is in ill-repair and that there’s a malevolent specter following his every move.
This Woman in Black seems content to just watch him, but by the time he returns to the town, his job still unaccomplished, children start to die in gruesome and creepy fashion. Not only do they start to die around Arthur, but the townspeople start to blame him for stirring up the town’s dark past and blame his arrival for the deaths of their little ones.
To further raise the stakes and give the situation a ticking clock, Arthur keeps a calendar that his son Edward drew. He crosses off the days till Edward arrives in Crythin Gifford with his Nanny. Since no one in the town owns a telephone, and the only telegraph is situated in the post office that always seems closed for business, Arthur has no way of communicating with the outside world.
With the help of Samuel Daily, he must uncover the town’s secrets and put this ghost to rest, lest his own son be put in lethal proximity to this phantom child killer.
Does it work?
Hell yes. A good ghost story is all about creating suspense and atmosphere. Insert a character into this atmospheric scenario that we care about and feel sympathy for, who has an impossible task with some high stakes, and you’ve got a recipe for unsettling, creepy goodness.
From a grotesque sequence featuring Samuel Daily’s wife being possessed by a dead child that wants to communicate with Arthur to bizarre tar baby-like apparitions climbing out of the marshes to terrorize our characters, there are many twisted and powerful scare scenes that pull us, leading us with dread, through this mystery.
The script is also peppered with sorrowful touches and images that build the atmosphere and tone of the world. Birds are a motif. A fireplace with a nest full of dead baby birds is a striking detail that’s impossible to forget. Arthur’s grief for his wife is reflected in his scene with a Mynah bird that has mimicked his dead wife’s voice, “Again. Say it again.”
But, what I liked best was the ending.
I’m not going to spoil it, but it was so layered and fantastic and heartbreaking and satisfying, that I might have shed a tear or two.
My verdict? “The Woman in Black” might be better than The Sixth Sense, which I regard highly. One of the best ghost stories I’ve had the fortune of reading. Can’t wait to see this on the big screen. It’s gonna be a classic like Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Setting. Are you telling a story about a haunted locale? Well, this is a genre that’s been done to death, so you’re gonna have to make your setting memorable and original. And, it’s going to have to fit in the world you build. I’ve never quite seen or heard of anything like Eel Marsh House, this creepy old Gothic structure that exists on an island in the middle of a vast marshland that’s only reachable at certain hours of the day. It’s gloriously Romantic and Victorian. This setting, coupled with the strange phenomena we saw in the marshlands, reminded me a lot of the weirdness and the unsettling tricks of perception that were used in the great Algernon Blackwood story, “The Willows”.

Doing something a little different today. Roger is reviewing a script from a professional reader. Does he have what it takes to write a great script? While reading a ton of scripts helps your own screenwriting, I’ll be the first to admit it doesn’t ensure success. Each script has its own unique challenges and there’s no guarantee, regardless of whether you’re an amateur, professional or semi-professional, that you’ll be able to overcome them. I look back at shitty scripts of mine all the time and think “This sucks. There’s no way it can be salvaged.” What I love is that Dan was like, “Have at it. Grade it just as hard as you grade everything else. Grade it harder.” One thing I love about readers – they know the value of straightforward criticism cause nobody tells you the truth in this town. I know Dan offers notes, as do I (feel free to e-mail me for prices: carsonreeves1@gmail.com) so if you’re interested, drop me an e-mail.

The rest of the week is Odd Fever. I tackle a straight action script, a moody spooky period piece that a certain star has been trying to get made forever, and at the end of the week, for Amateur Friday, I review…a zombie script?? What the hell is going on?? Anyway, it promises to be a different week at Scriptshadow. Hope you enjoy it!

Genre: Supernatural Thriller, Horror, Drama
Premise: An orphaned teen returns un-aged from a mysterious 10-year journey to battle a powerful minister for control over a gateway to hell.
About: Dan Calvisi was a Senior Story Analyst for Miramax Films for over five years and now runs the script consultation service, Act Four Screenplays. As a professional reader, he worked for Fox 2000, New Line Cinema and Jonathan Demme’s former production company, Clinica Estetico.
Writer: Daniel P. Calvisi


“Donnington” has the type of logline I eat up.

Not only does it mention a gateway to hell, but it has the phrase, “un-aged from a mysterious 10-year journey”. It’s such a bizarre detail (Why is the character un-aged? Where did he go? What happened to him? Again, why didn’t he age?) that captured my imagination and made me want to read the script.

Weaned on horror movies, Ghostbusters and Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, I am always very interested in gateways to hell. All of my favorite myths involve characters like Orpheus or Hercules entering such gateways to rescue or retrieve loved ones or creatures from the shadowy, fiery underworld.

And, I’m here to report, this script is about a boy who disappears into such a doorway to claim a mythic mantle and returns to the ordinary world (yep, un-aged and ten years later) with a supernatural boon that may bring death to every other person he encounters in the natural world.

Cool. Who’s the boy?

Seventeen year-old Ben Danvers officially becomes an orphan when his father dies in jail. We meet our protagonist at his father’s funeral, where we also learn that the townspeople hate his father. Donnington is a town devastated by a horrible mine explosion that killed thirty-three people in the early 80s (in fact, the script begins with a creepy cool prologue that captures events in the mine just before the cave-in, which involves a miner fleeing into a red light with a baby in his arms).

Ben’s caseworker has enrolled the pagan teenager (during the funeral, he spouts his knowledge of Greek and Roman mythology to the minister) at a top-notch school, a prestigious private institution called the “Donnington Lamb of God Evangelical School for Christian Leadership and Development”. So, not only do the townspeople express resentment for Ben because of his paternal pedigree, but he’s being placed in an educational environment that violently clashes with his own personal beliefs.

It’s at the evangelical school that we meet Cassie Harken, a goth-y gal who is immediately attracted to Ben, especially when he announces that his topic for his senior term paper will be disproving the existence of Hell. Her own topic for Senior Themes? Vampirism in the bible. This is a match made in the bowels of a heavily religious and right-wing environment, the common denominator being that both characters have a mutual disdain for authority figures.

They bond when they visit the cemetery and start to make myths, or make-up stories about the people behind the names on the headstones of the graves.

At this school, not only do we get to meet Ben’s reluctant teacher, Mr. Grabash, we also witness the school’s painful version of required chapel, which is the daily assembly led by the school’s figurehead, Brother Gabriel.

What’s the story behind Brother Gabriel?

Brother Gabriel is known for dressing all in black and delivering not so much a fire and brimstone sermon to the young sheep at his school, but for pontificating about a place he calls “Outer Darkness”. I suppose the place is related to the Cormac McCarthy novel in that both are about the concept of Hell, although Brother Gabriel also refers to it as a physical, geographical place while McCarthy seems to only be concerned with the moral and emotional metaphor.

Basically, Gabriel makes kids weep by talking about the complete solitude of Hell and paints word scenarios where they must imagine being trapped there, and that it’s too late to call on Jesus for help. It’s important to know that Gabriel and his school rose to power because he’s the only known survivor of the Golgoth mine cave-in of 82. He reminds the kids and the townspeople that not only is survival a miracle, but that his purpose on earth is to save the youth from Hell.

Ben gets in dire straits with Brother Gabriel while trying to interview him for his term paper. Not only does Gabriel dislike Ben, but he doesn’t appreciate him challenging his authority. To complicate the situation, Ben also learns that Gabriel is also possibly molesting Cassie.

Does supernatural stuff start to happen?

Yeah. One day, at the Jesuit house Ben lives in (where his caseworker finds him lodging) he receives a mysterious letter that has strange symbols and glyphs on it. There’s a phrase that says, “Return back. Mine.” So, accordingly, Ben is drawn to the Golgoth mine, but the townspeople warn him that it’s condemned because of mercury poisoning. Undeterred, he explores the hillside and encounters the Charon-like Duey, the old punch-in clerk from the prologue who now wanders the hills as a sort of guardian. In their first encounter, he demands to inspect Ben’s tongue.

The first act turn approaches when Ben learns about Cassie and Gabriel and when the strange birthmark he has on his body starts morphing into a map on his body. He lines it up with another map and it all leads to a particular entrance of the mine called Raven Hill. Under the cover of night, Ben goes to the mine and encounters three men (perhaps the mysterious authority trio Gabriel answers to at the school) in hazmat suits are inspecting creek water. He’s chased into the mine…

…where he disappears for, apparently, a really long time. Now, for me, this was the most intriguing part of the script. We’re treated to a time-lapse of the outside of the mine, and although we’re not sure how much time is passing, we suspect that whatever is happening must be supernatural. Sure enough, Ben emerges from the mine with a beard and his face is weathered by the elements.

And, he’s holding a lacquered wooden strongbox with iron latches.

It reminds us of the circular, mossy door he fled into in the mine.

What’s in the box?

That’s part of the mystery. No matter what Ben does, he can’t seem to open it. And no matter where he leaves it, it seems to magically reappear wherever he’s at. Yep, it’s an inanimate object that follows him around. There’s also a scene where the villains are searching for the box, and although it’s in plain view, they’re unable to see it. Ben spends the rest of the script carrying the box around with him.

So, ten years passed while Ben was in the mine?

Yep. Ben returns to Donnington to find that the town is eclipsed by the gigantic new mini-mega church that spires up into the sky. He meets Mr. Grabash, who is now a drunken hobo that wanders the streets, and Cassie, who is ten years older while Ben isn’t. She’s super confused, and tells a tale where she thought he disappeared for good.

We discover that Brother Gabriel is now calling himself Prophet Gabriel, and that he’s built an institution that seats fifteen thousand people. Parents from all over the state enroll their kids at the school. Gabriel seems to employ most of the town. Gabriel isn’t too happy to discover that Ben has returned, and the mysterious three men are on alert to snatch him and interrogate him about his experience in the mine.

Which he has no memory of.

He gets mysterious flashes of what happened to him down there, and well, they’re not always pretty.

And, now, Ben is plagued with more strange events. While he tries to discover who Gabriel really is and what he’s up to, he becomes aware of phenomena with the box. Disconcertingly, everyone in contact with him seems to die soon after. There’s a cool detail when he interrogates a photographer and we learn that, in the photos of himself, he seems to have a dark smudge-like tail following him around.

Does Ben learn about the mysterious men that employ Gabriel?

Yep. We learn that they’re part of a consortium called The Alchemy Group, and that they’ve been interested in the mine for a very long time. And they’re very intrigued by Ben and his bloodline.

It all culminates into a bloody finale (one that actually made me sick to my stomach) where Ben may or may not become a popular mythical figure. Pay attention to the clues: references to the Valkyrie, gargoyles, Tartarus and a certain scythe-wielding icon.

Does it work?

It’s a very intriguing mystery. In a good way, it reminded me of “Donnie Darko”. The tone and the element of mystery is both its strength and weakness.

There’s some character and plot stuff that can get confusing at times. Just lots of goals that seem to get lost in the 2nd act shuffle: Ben is trying to clear his father’s name, but he’s also trying to expose Gabriel, and he’s also trying to solve the mystery of not only the mine, but the Alchemy Group, and his true nature. It can feel convoluted.

I also felt that, at times, the author was grinding an axe rather than simply telling a story.

All in all, it’s a cool puzzle narrative that reminded me of “Carnivale” and stuff by Stephen King. It also has a really cool concept at its heart: It’s about a boy whose inheritance is related to the Grim Reaper. And for that, it’s definitely worth reading.

Please contact Dan at dan@actfourscreenplays.com for the script.

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

What I learned: There’s a quote by Richard Kelly that I’m pretty fond of, “For me, for fantasy to truly work, there has to be an undercurrent of absolute realism.” When you have birth marks morphing into maps, a character disappearing into the underworld for ten years and returning with no memory of the experience, an ornate box that you can’t open but follows you around no matter where you leave it, and encounters with a supernatural realm that culminates into a boy becoming a scythe-wielding mythical figure, it’s important to ground everything in a realistic setting with characters that feel like real people. I think Donnington could benefit by not only making its setting, the town, more realistic, but by depicting the town in such a way that makes it feel like an actual character. From “It’s a Wonderful Life” to Faulkner’s “A Rose for Emily” to the more modern “Lars and the Real Girl”, there’s something to be said for giving a community, a collective of people, a character arc. Donnington is a town that has suffered a great tragedy and has turned belly-up, but the setting never quite felt realistic. I think it could benefit from being fleshed out more. How do you do this? You depict more characters from the community who have different backgrounds. For example, I’ll point to Karl Gajdusek’s “Pandora”, which portrayed multiple characters who inhabited a town. They were all different ages and from different social stratas with different jobs. All together, the varying perspectives felt like a tapestry of characters that gave weight and soul to the setting. I’m not advocating turning this script into an ensemble piece, but if “Donnie Darko” can make a town feel like a character, so can “Donnington”. At one point, a character says, “God left this town long ago.” It’s a literal Ichabod (the departure of God’s glory). For the audience to believe that a setting is truly cursed, first they have to truly believe the setting.

note: Okay, comments seem fixed.