Genre: Horror
Premise: A mysterious drifter gets stuck inside a Chuck E. Cheese like entertainment center called Wally’s Wonderland where the animatronic creatures come alive and kill.
About: It’s here. The single greatest Nic Cage movie that hasn’t been made yet. Wally’s Wonderland! An idea so fun it seems impossible no one’s come up with it yet. I guess the universe needed the idea to collide with a certain Direct-to-Digital icon before it was ready to unleash the greatest midnight horror film ever… that hasn’t been made yet. I read somewhere that the writer wanted to make “the ultimate B movie that was so absurd you had to tell your friends about it because of how stupidly awesome it was.” I admire a writer who knows exactly what he wants.
Writer: G.O. Parsons
Details: 93 pages

When one reads Wally’s Wonderland, one has to ask the question: “Will this be the greatest B-movie ever made?”

Nick Cage taking down an animatronic ostrich with a mop could be this generation’s cut yourself out of the inside of a shark with a chainsaw moment.

I can tell you something this script taught me right off the bat. It’s in reference to idea creation. There are big news stories in our pasts that just sort of came of nowhere and everyone talked about them. Then, just as quickly as they arrived, they disappeared. If you can identify one of these stories and find a movie idea for it, you’ve got something that already has “concept cache” because it’s been proven to capture peoples’ interest.

I remember those news stories about how pedophiles and sickos used to hang out at Chuck E. Cheese because that’s where all the kids were. Today’s script has taken that idea to the next level, centering around a group of these degenerates who sacrificed their souls in order to live on in animatronic form.

The Janitor is driving his jeep down a lone highway in Middle-of-Nowhere Nevada when, all of a sudden, all four wheels blow out at the same time, bringing him to a screechy scary stop. And yet the Janitor is unphased. By the way, it’s never clear if The Janitor is named The Janitor because he *is* a janitor or because he must become a janitor due to his circumstances. Such details are unimportant in Wally’s Wonderland.

A tow truck shows up and a man named Jed explains to The Janitor that the police were chasing someone the other week, put out one of those spike lines to blow the guy’s tires, and, wouldn’t you know it, forgot to recollect it! He takes The Janitor back to his garage where he gives him the damage – $1000. Unfortunately, Jed informs him, they don’t take credit cards. It’s clear that The Janitor doesn’t have cash on him so Jed offers an alternative.

Cut to Wally’s Wonderland, a long since closed-down Chuck E. Cheese knock-off. The owner, Tex Macadoo, is planning to reopen the place. But he needs someone to clean it up first, make it spick-and-span. If The Janitor is quick, Tex tells him, he should be able to finish the job by morning. The Janitor hasn’t said a word to anybody yet. He doesn’t even react. He just stares intensely at whoever’s talking to him.

Wally’s Wonderland is a freaking mess. Remnants of hundreds of sad 1990s birthday parties are scattered about haphazardly. And then there’s those rusty creepy animatronic dolls (Pirate Pete, Beary the Bear, Ozzie the Ostrich, and Wally the Weasel) up on stage. They stand there staring out at nothing. Or at least that’s what we think. What The Janitor doesn’t know is that Jed and Tex have locked him in the building. He’s about to be sacrificed to these animals… which are very much alive!

The first one, Ozzie the Ostrich, strikes almost immediately. But a strange thing happens when he attacks. Unlike the other humans who freak out and run and scream for their lives, The Janitor just stands there waiting for the Ostrich and then cracks him in the face with his mop. He then relentlessly beats him to a wirey pulp.

You’d think that after an animatronic Ostrich tried to kill you that you’d prepare for battle with the other three fake animals in the room. But not The Janitor. He simply goes back to work, determined to clean the place up before dawn.

Meanwhile, a group of high school kids led by a girl named Liv head to Wally’s World to burn it down. They know the town sacrifices people in there and they’re going to put a stop to it. But first they have to get The Janitor out of there. So they head up to the roof where they’re able to gain access inside. Once in, however, things don’t go according to plan. The animatronic animals are more than happy to fatten up on young human flesh.

Strangely, The Janitor doesn’t care. He really really really wants to clean. Unless a kid being eaten is directly in the way of doing his job, he ignores them. It’s not clear whether The Janitor doesn’t realize he’s been conned or if he knows he’s been conned but still wants to clean the place. Either answer is acceptable to me.

You know where this is headed. The whole time, Wally the Weasel has been sitting atop his stage perch, awaiting all his other minions to take their shot at the Janitor. And when they fail, he must now get the job done himself. Nicholas Cage……….. vs. a 9 foot animatronic weasel. I’m going to ask you an honest question. Do you even need to go on with life after this battle? Cause I don’t think I do.

One of the first things I wondered before reading this was how is Nicholas Cage going to fight animatronic monsters for 90 minutes inside of five rooms? I was worried the flame was going to burn bright then go out before the second half.

So I liked what Parsons did. He brought in these high school kids. Not only did that give us more battles to show, but The Janitor plays an Equalizer-like character. He handles every attack with ease. So we needed characters who STRUGGLED to defeat these things to make it more interesting. Remember, that’s where you grab the viewer – when things are unknown. If we know our heroes are going to win every fight, there’s no conflict, there’s no uncertainty, and therefore there’s no tension. Bringing those kids in was key.

Also, if you have a character who’s as unstoppable as The Janitor is, you need to look for ways in the second half of the movie to handicap them. That way they don’t have access to their fighting superiority and you DO get uncertainty in their fights. When the town realizes that The Janitor is winning, they go back in, handcuff him, and leave him there so that he can be properly sacrificed. So now The Janitor has to fight with his hands tied behind his back! That’s smart screenwriting.

It also helps, in movies like this, if you can occasionally take us outside. Technically, you can keep everything inside. It’s certainly cheaper to do it that way. But even in script form, there’s a “claustrophobic” feeling that sets in if you’re not occasionally cutting away from the place. So it was good that we’d occasionally cut back to the bad guys. We even get one great scene where the bad guys are driving away only to see an animatronic penguin bash through their windshield and attack them.

This also allows you to cut out boring stuff. If we stayed inside the whole time, we’d have to show The Janitor after he killed someone or washing his hands or doing other boring things. By occasionally cutting outside, we could cut back to the Janitor all set up in a new spot to clean. It’s an aspect of screenwriting I don’t talk about much because it’s unsexy. But the advantage of cutting away to anything is that you can then jump forward in time to a story-convenient plot point once you come back to your A-story.

The only thing I’d probably change here is to have a little more fun with the animals’ personalities. Each animal should have a distinct approach and style and way they talk. This is a stupid example but if there was someone named “Cheaty Cheetah,” he might talk really really fast. Disney movies are good at this. In Zootopia, there was that scene at the DMV and they were stuck with a sloth who spoke at -50 miles per hour. This is such an absurd premise that you might as well lean all the way into it.

Either way, I had a lot of fun with this and I hope they figure out a way to have midnight showings in Los Angeles because that is exactly how this movie is meant to be enjoyed.

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

What I learned: Handicap your hero as the script goes on! Whether your hero is as capable as Denzel Washington in The Equalizer or as outmatched as Bruce Willis in Die Hard, look for ways to handicap them as the story goes on so that their job gets tougher. The tougher it is, the more we’ll doubt they can succeed. That’s where you want your audience. You want them thinking, “There’s NO WAY they can pull this off.”

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!