Genre: Thriller/Drama
Premise: A mysterious loner heads to Muscle Beach in 1985 to pursue a career as a competitive bodybuilder. Struggling to transform his physique, he unleashes a darker side of himself as he descends into madness.
About: This script finished #2 on this year’s Blood List, which celebrates the best horror, thriller, and sci-fi scripts of the year. The writer, Stephen Vitale, will also be directing the film.
Writer: Stephen Vitale
Details: 102 pages

I’m conflicted about Apex.

On its face, it’s one of those dark intense character studies that always seem to climb their way onto the Black List. Nightcrawler came to mind. And, of course, Joker.

However, after seeing Joker just a few weeks ago, it’s hard for anything else in the same mould to live up to it. You’re constantly comparing what they did right to what this script did wrong. And that’s not to say it was a bad script. In fact, as I was reading it, a sort of “seeing the Matrix” moment occurred to me where I understood exactly how to write these dark character pieces.

Create a character who’s unable to connect with the world. Then simply give them an unhealthy obsession. With Joker it was comedy. With Nightcrawler it was nightcrawling. With this script it’s bodybuilding. And then you just sort of show them spiraling out of control as the script goes on. I just gave you the formula to get on the Black List boys and girls. So get to it!

But what Apex made me realize is that there are very important areas of these scripts that you have to get right in order for them to work. And Apex makes a pretty big miscalculation early on that keeps it out of the same orbit as those two great scripts.

Caleb is a 28 year old scrawny kid who’s just moved to Los Angeles in 1985 to become a bodybuilder. The guy’s so dedicated he showed up here without a dollar to his name. He immediately heads to a gym called Flexion, run by the famous (to Caleb at least) Barry Yates. Caleb tells Barry he’ll work for free if Barry can teach him how to be a bodybuilder.

For a guy so determined to become a bodybuilder, Caleb knows next to nothing about the craft. So between sweeping the floor, he watches other people work out and takes notes. Also, since Caleb doesn’t have anywhere to sleep, he sneakily outfits the Flexion storage room into an apartment.

As Caleb takes in all the beauty of Los Angeles, he finds himself hating everyone he sees. It isn’t clear why. It may be because he couldn’t get an erection on a date with a ballerina. But, for whatever reason, Caleb becomes enraged at the world. Then one night he kills a homeless man and becomes addicted to killing.

Caleb’s appetite for killing increases along with his size. The bigger he gets, the more he kills. And this is 1985 so it’s like taking candy from a baby. They haven’t even invented DNA evidence yet! Eventually, Caleb starts working construction and can pay for an actual apartment. He ends up moving into a woman’s garage, who he soon learns is a DOM who works out of her living room. Because of the amount of power she displays, she is the only person Caleb respects.

As is usually the case with these serial killer types, Caleb keeps pushing the envelope, getting sloppier and sloppier with his kills. Finally, he decides that he should tackle his “white whale,” a clear stand-in for Arnold Schwarzenegger (hey! A tie-in to yesterday’s review!). But the only way he can get close to him is if he goes to one of Arnold’s big Hollywood parties. Will he be able to take him out in front of all those people? We’re going to find out!

For starters, I liked this concept. I like that we’re getting the first script out of a million about a character moving to Los Angeles NOT for acting, directing, or writing… but for bodybuilding. It was nice to see a twist on that old trope. It immediately helped the script stand out.

And Vitale does a great job setting his world up. He gives us lots of imagery that puts us in 1985 Venice (*STREET ARTISTS arrange items for sale on folding tables. *BREAK DANCERS lay out flattened boxes to set their stage. *ROLLER SKATERS weave around like a traveling party. *SUNGLASS WEARING PIT BULL waddles by with his owner. A constantly evolving circus – can drive a certain mind mad.). You can tell this writer thinks in images. And that’s obviously important for when you’re writing description.

But I immediately started to see cracks. And, again, it’s unfortunate that I’m reading this script with Joker still fresh in my mind because how can it compare? The biggest thing is that they made you care for Arthur in Joker. The world was so incredibly cruel to him that right up until he started killing people, we were rooting for him. And some people kept rooting for him after he killed people. That’s how much effort was put into making sure we rooted for the protagonist.

You don’t get anything like that here. Caleb is pretty much an a#$hole from the start. He doesn’t garner any sympathy from us. He’s judgmental. He’s mean to others. And then he starts getting really mad for reasons that weren’t clear, leaving me to think that the only reason he was mad was because the writer needed him to be for the story to work.

Think about Arthur’s first kill. We don’t question why he killed. We see how cruel everyone’s been to him. We’re surprised it took him this long. Caleb, on the other hand, kills a homeless guy because… I’m not sure. Cause he just felt the need to kill I guess.

It’s so important in character pieces that character actions feel authentic. That’s the allure of character pieces. Is to watch someone encounter obstacles or darkness and to see how they handle it. But that’s the thing. There was no obstacle here. Caleb brought this world upon himself for reasons that were never made clear to the reader.

Let me give you a more specific example about authenticity. Caleb goes on that date with the ballerina, can’t get it up, then goes into the bathroom later in the night and just smashes his head into the mirror. I suppose you can argue that there’s cause and effect here. But it honestly just felt like the writer wanted one of those dream actor moments where they look at themselves in the mirror then break it. It didn’t feel organic.

Compare that to the moment between Arthur and Sophie in the elevator. She’s dealing with her kid, they share a look with each other, and Sophie mimes shooting herself in the head. After they get out of the elevator, Arthur, infused by the rare connection with another human, calls to her after he’s 20 steps down the hallway. She turns around and Arthur awkwardly repeats the gesture, miming shooting himself in the head with a smile.

Notice how one of those moments you can see in a thousand movies. And the other you only saw in Joker. That’s a major professional writing distinction. Veteran screenwriters they find those unique moments instead of relying on the same bag of tricks every other writer has access to.

Finally, you had the voice over. Voice over is a weird device. It seems that only beginner writers and really experienced writers use it. Nobody in between. Most writers know that voice over is a crutch. It’s a cheat way to give the audience information about the character since they can just talk about what they’re feeling. But I still find that unless you’ve been around the block and know the specific instances where voice over works, not to mess with it. Because think about Joker and Nightcrawler. Neither of those movies would’ve worked with voice over. The very fact that we only get to know those characters through what they say and what they do allows them to keep a sense of mystery. You lose that once you go full voice over, like Caleb here.

It’s frustrating. This script has some elements in it that show potential. I know actors love these roles, where they get to transform into a monster both mentally AND physically. Toxic masculinity is an easy sell in this environment, another marketing advantage of this project. But there was something about the execution that was too on-the-nose for my taste. See a mirror, slam your face in it. See a downed pigeon, pick it up, stare at it, snap its neck. We get it. He’s an angry killer. What tends to make these characters interesting is the conflict inside them. Arthur WANTS to connect. But he fails at it. Caleb wants to kill so he starts killing. There’s no resistance in him or from the world.

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

What I learned: Think like a director when you’re first describing your world. What are the shots that would sell that world? Vitale showed me how doing so helps paint a picture of the world we’re entering.

What I learned 2: It’s a huge advantage if you can pitch your script as the “X” version of “latest big hit.” The pitch for Apex is one of the easiest I’ve ever come across, even if the writer lucked into it. Apex is “Joker but in the bodybuilding world.” It’s even set in the same time period! Hey, nothing wrong with taking advantage of a little luck!

Make sure to check your Inboxes as the new Scriptshadow Newsletter should be there!

Genre: Science-Fiction
Premise: A young woman in Mexico City is hunted down by a killing machine from the future. She must team up with another woman from the future who’s sworn to protect her.
About: Terminator Dark Fate has a little extra shine on it compared to recent Terminator entries as it brings in Deadpool director Tim Miller to direct and Terminator creator James Cameron to write and produce. The always forthcoming Cameron said earlier this week that blood was spilled in the editing room between him and Miller and that that’s what the creative process is all about. The reason there are so many writers attached to this movie is that Cameron put together a big writing room to map out a trilogy.
Writers: James Cameron, Charles Eglee, Josh Friedman, David Goyer, Justin Rhodes, Billy Ray, and Gale Anne Hurd
Details: 128 minutes

I’m about to surprise you.

I liked Terminator: Dark Fate.

Here’s the thing with this movie. There’s so much hoop-jumping that needs to be done in order to explain the complex Terminator timeline that you’re either going to go with it or not. I would recommend not watching any Terminator movies in the lead up to this one. Cause then you’re going to be thinking about the rules in those films and how they contradict the rules in this one and you’re not going to enjoy yourself.

I hadn’t seen Terminator 2 in a long enough time where I didn’t remember everything. And so whenever someone referred to time travel here in a way that might’ve conflicted with the previous movies, I just gave Dark Fate the benefit of the doubt. Because once you give in to this movie, you realize it’s really fun. And it moves like lightning. They did a tremendous job plotting this script.

That doesn’t mean I liked everything. (major spoiler) I was shocked, at the beginning of the film, that James Cameron would kill off 13 year old John Connor. It was such an odd choice that I assumed we were watching a dream sequence. Cameron has gone on record as being devastated that Alien 3 killed off Newt. Yet he does the exact same thing here with Connor. I get why it was necessary. Killing off John opens up a ton of other story options, which they take advantage of. But if you really planned for this to become a part of the Terminator franchise, how could you in good faith advocate for something that would make the best movie in franchise pointless should the viewer pop in Dark Fate right afterwards?

I got over it quickly, though.

This movie has such momentum to it. Once it starts, it never stops. And while a lot of people are dinging it for its “Force Awakens” approach to storytelling, I’d argue this is a much more complicated movie than Terminator 2. I’m not saying it’s better. But there are a lot more moving parts. You’ve got a hybrid human, a girl who’s being saved, a Terminator-hunter, a new Terminator, and an old Terminator. And we’re not being chased around California. We’re in a totally different country. And that gave the film its own distinct flavor.

I loved that right when the movie was about to hit a lag, we introduced Arnold at the midpoint. It was the perfect way to infuse the movie with some fresh energy. A lot of movies fall apart around the midpoint because they don’t know how to both continue the story they’ve been telling yet also introduce new elements that make the story feel different from the first half. Throwing Arnold’s T-800 in there was the perfect way to achieve this.

And the script always seemed to have a nice dynamic with the characters. Nobody ever completely trusted each other which infused every scene with conflict or subtext or dramatic irony. Sarah Connor hates the Arnold Terminator with a passion because he killed her son! Yet they have to work together to destroy a bigger threat. That’s how you create conflict between characters.

With that said, Arnold’s part never quite fit into the story. And you could feel the writers battling that the whole time. The problem was that this wasn’t the Terminator from Terminator 2. This was a separate Terminator. This essentially made him a rando but you don’t have a Terminator movie without Arnold so you have to find a way to fit him into the story, even if that means creating a storyline by which a Terminator likes to text.

The whole thing got me thinking about screenwriting on a macro scale. And how every script has its “Dark Fate Arnold” problem. Every script has some major component that doesn’t necessarily work but you have to make it work. I remember watching an interview with Geroge Lucas where he talked about writing the scene in Return of the Jedi where Luke tells Leia that she’s his sister. He hated the fact that he had to write that scene. The audience already knew it so the only reason your’e writing it is because it wouldn’t make sense that Luke wouldn’t tell his sister she was his sister when they saw each other.

That’s the kind of stuff I mean. You’d prefer not to write it but you have to figure out a way to get it in there because it’s essential for your movie to work. And when you become a professional screenwriter, you have to be really good at this. Cause there will be a time where you’re pitching yourself for a Terminator-like screenplay and they’re going to say to you: “And how do you plan to include Arnold in the story?” And you’re going to reply, “But Arnold is 80 years old.” “Yeah, but he needs to be in the movie.” You have to figure something out. That’s what screenwriting boils down to. Creative problem-solving.

I was also surprised so many people disliked the main girl in this – the one who the Terminator is targeting. I liked her arc as a character. How she’s this nobody who’s terrified of everything and then she eventually becomes the opposite. And I loved how they played off our (spoiler) expectations that she was pregnant, just like Sarah Connor, only for us to realize that she was the resistance leader herself. I thought that was really cool.

And I liked how they tied her future storyline to MacKenzie Davis’s human-hybrid character – how she saves her in the future. And I even love how they explain how she becomes the resistance leader at the end of the movie – Sarah Connor trains her. It was a surprisingly clever time circle.

I liked this so much that I actually think Linda Hamilton should be nominated for an Oscar. She deserves it because… okay, I’m just messing with on that one. But I did like this movie.

If they could’ve simplified the group a tad – not had so many people running around together. And they could’ve done a little better with the special effects – don’t get me started on that plane scene. This would’ve been a really great action movie. As it stands, it’s just a fun time at the movies. And that was enough for me when I saw it.

[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Don’t get phased when you encounter that “insurmountable story problem” in your script. Every script has one. And part of the journey of writing each screenplay is conquering the mountain that is that “insurmountable story problem.” You might not figure it out until the sixth or seventh draft. But I can promise you when you do, you’re going to feel like a million dollars.

Cancel your date, spark up a few candles, and open up that Grubhub App and order whatever the heck you feel like. The Scriptsahdow Newsletter is here. We’re so very close to Star Wars which means I got opinions on Mandalorian, JJ, and Benioff and Weiss. I also talk about those Christopher McQuarrie tweets where he says all screenwriters should give up. I review a sci-fi script I’ve been DYING to get my hands on. I share a screenwriting tip from one of my favorite movies of the year. And I update you on all the major projects that have been selling.

If you want to read the newsletter, you have to sign up. So if you’re not on the mailing list, e-mail me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com with the subject line, “NEWSLETTER!” and I’ll send it to you.

p.s. For those of you who keep signing up but don’t receive the newsletter, try sending me another e-mail address. E-mailing programs are notoriously quirky and there may be several reasons why your e-mail address/server is rejecting the newsletter. One of which is your server is bad and needs to be spanked.

Hey everyone. No Amateur Showdown this weekend as I’m hard at work putting together the newsletter. Expect it to drop in the next 48 hours. In the meantime, I want a great Amateur Showdown next weekend. So start sending those screenplays in. Who’s got the next Cop Cam??!!

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, Amateur Showdown is a single weekend tournament that pits five Amateur scripts against each other and the winner gets a script review on the site which could lead to representation or more. If you’d like to submit, the process is easy. Send a PDF to carsonreeves3@gmail.com with the title, genre, logline, and why you think your script should get a shot. Chris McQuarrie thinks the only way for a screenwriter to break in is through directing. Let’s prove him wrong!

I’m about to get weird. But it’s Halloween and on Halloween you’re allowed to get weird. You see, Halloween is responsible for my most brutal craving, a craving that has followed me deep into my adult life – that of the Reeses Peanut Butter cup. Due to those single little orange squares of demonary, I have a lifetime addiction I’m battling.

But anyone who knows Reeses Peanut Butter Cups knows that there’s a big difference between a good Reeses Peanut Butter Cup and a bad one. A good Reeses Peanut Butter Cup has a shiny crisp hard layer of chocolate on the outside, and a mushy delicious peanut butter filling on the inside. Unfortunately, the delicious versions of this perfect feat of finger-licking engineering can only be found sporadically. They’re like rare pokemen.

You’re far more likely to receive the bad version of the Reeses Peanut Butter Cup. These will have no shine on the chocolate, but rather a muddy grayish-brown texture with softened edges. This is due to the cup melting, un-melting, melting, and un-melting over time. And don’t even get me started on the inside, which is hard and chalky. Opening a Reeses package and finding these cups is one of life’s greatest disappointments.

So what is a Reeses Peanut Butter lover to do? Well, I’ve found a trick, a crack in the system, which allows one to determine if the package is that fresh delicious ideal version of the cup or its sad muddy depressing cousin.

Now pay attention.

On the back of every package is a date. That is the “best by” date. Now you’re going to need a degree in Dynamical systems and differential equations to understand the next step. So if calculus eluded you, turn away now. I can’t help you. The “best by” date on the back of the package must be 7 months or more ahead of the current date in which you are residing. That difference in dates denotes a brand new Reeses Peanut Butter cup. You can take your chances with six months or five months. But I wouldn’t. It’s too risky. Only that seven months or beyond date is confirmation that you have a great Reeses Peanut Butter Cup on your hands, which you will be able to buy with complete confidence that your impending meal will be a great one.

You’re welcome.

Reeses Peanut Butter Cups are doing double-duty today as they’ve also inspired this article. We’re going to play a little Trick or Treat with the best horror movies of the decade. I combed through the most financially and critically successful horror films of the last ten years and looked for examples of what to do (treat) and not to do (trick). Let’s take a look.

A Quiet Place

Treat: A high concept horror hook is gold. But one that allows you to explore horror in a completely new way is platinum. The concept of not being able to make a sound or you’re dead within seconds may be the most clever idea of the decade. It allows for a silent horror film, something that audiences had not seen for decades. Which is why the film made 180 million dollars on a 17 million dollar budget.

Trick: You have to iron out the holes in your concept. If you don’t, you’re going to lose some of your audience. The reason so many people came out of A Quiet Place angry is because they’d didn’t buy into the concept (what happens if you sneeze or fall? And why don’t they all live by the waterfall, which drowns out sound?). It’s up to the writer to eliminate all those wrinkles so nobody’s disbelief is suspended.

Get Out

Treat: Get Out began the social commentary horror genre. I expect this trend to be around for at least another five years, so take advantage of it. It’s a volatile ground (poor “The Hunt” found this out the hard way). But one thing is for sure – these scripts are rising to the top of producer’s must-read lists. Social Commentary + Horror is a goldmine!

Trick: There ain’t much wrong with Get Out so I’ll give you a couple of small tricks. Do NOT denote something weird going on with a character by having their nose inadvertently bleed. That has been done in 7032 horror movies to date. And don’t, when your characters are driving somewhere, have them hit, or almost hit, a deer. This scene is so common in the horror scripts I read, the only question I have is what page it will occur on.

It Follows

Treat: As was the case with A Quiet Place, simple concepts with few rules work well in horror. A person only you can see follows you, trying to kill you, until you pass the curse on to the next person by sleeping with them. Heck, the whole concept is right there in the title. Nice!

Trick: Don’t break the rules you’ve set up, no matter how difficult that makes the writing or how much it improves your set pieces. Courtesy of Tarantino, he points out that throughout this whole movie, these things had one M.O.: come at you and try to kill you. Yet in the finale, which occurs in a pool, they’re throwing things at their target? Strategizing? That’s never happened before. Stay consistent! Or if you’re going to change the rules, make sure you’ve properly set the changes up earlier in the story.

Hereditary

Treat: There’s no more important genre than horror where you must make it clear to the audience that THEY’RE NOT SAFE. If an audience feels safe during a horror movie, YOU’VE FAILED. So give them one horrible incident in the first 45 pages of your script that they never saw coming in a million years. Nobody would ever expect the writer to kill off the mentally challenged daughter in the family because it’s never been done before! So Ari Hester does just that… in the most horrifying way possible. Is there a single audience member who has any idea what to expect after that scene? No. Moving forward, nothing is sacred, nothing is safe. And that’s right where you want your audience.

Trick: Horror scripts remain some of the sloppiest I read. That’s because writers (especially younger writers) think it’s all about the scares. They don’t care if things make sense. They don’t care about carefully setting a story up, building it throughout the second act, and paying it all off at the end in an intelligent way. As long as they get to include that scene where a character gets operated on in a basement hospital while they’re awake, they’re happy. Hereditary could’ve been great if the narrative weren’t so sloppy.

Let The Right One In

Treat: Horror is the perfect genre for the taboo, the yucky stuff we’re not supposed to talk about in society. It’s the very reason we’re not allowed to talk about it that makes audiences so curious when they see it. Let the Right One In introduces us to a 55 year old man in a relationship with a 12 year-old “girl.” Of course, that’s not exactly what’s going on. And there are more taboo topics revealed as the story unwinds. But if you can think of something that’s icky/disgusting/weird/taboo, it might be the perfect subject matter for a horror script.

Trick: Playing with the following tip is like playing with fire. You’ve been warned. “Imply” instead of “tell” to create a more powerful impact. In the book this film was based on, pedophilia is a primary theme, portrayed through Hakan, the 55 year-old “keeper” and Eli, his child vampire’s, relationship. But in the screenplay, it is never stated that they are with one another, leaving their relationship up to interpretation. The reason this is such a powerful trick is because it allows the reader to feel like they’ve figured it out on their own. That’s always more satisfying than being straight up told. But be careful. If you’re too vague and there’s no implication at all what’s going on, the reader might not catch what you’re selling.

IT

Treat: Every horror script should have at least one set piece scene that revolves around an impending sense of doom that the audience knows the character isn’t going to get out of (they can still get out of it, but the important thing is that the audience believes they won’t). The early scene in “IT” where a young child encounters a curious clown in the sewer is so good it became the poster. Just remember that newbie writers will speed through this scene. Veteran writers know that these precious perfect moments of tension need to be milked for as long as possible. Make them one of your horror script’s long set pieces.

Trick: Choose characters that the antagonist has a significant advantage over. The bigger the gap between the villain’s strength and the heroes’ strength, the better. IT’s success had a lot to do with the main characters being children. Children are helpless against a powerful monster. One of the reasons we didn’t feel nearly as scared in the sequel is because they were now adults. The gap in strength had lessened considerably.

The Conjuring

Treat: Something that works really well in horror films is children’s games turned deadly/scary. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the contrast between something that’s supposed to be fun being deadly, but a well-constructed child’s game sequence in a horror film can work wonders. It worked so well for The Conjuring that they built the entire first trailer around it. There was also that script that recently sold about kids’ games in a haunted house. Just make sure that you don’t use something common! Find a game or an angle on a game that hasn’t been done before.

Feel free to take another treat from the basket: The power of proper Point of View. Producer Tony DeRosa-Grund wrote a treatment for The Conjuring which he tried to sell for 14 years unsuccessfully. He finally gave the idea over to brothers Chad and Carey Hayes, who changed the narrative’s driving point-of-view from the family who’d moved into the house to the Warrens (the ghost investigators). This change in POV helped contribute to a six studio bidding war. Are the characters in your current script the best point of view for the story? You owe it to yourself to imagine your story with as many other points-of-view as possible before coming to that conclusion.

Look out for razor blades in your candy and don’t stay out too late! Oh, and share your favorite Halloween candy in the comments!