Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: A medical salesman receives a mysterious pre-recorded message from his younger self detailing an unimaginable impending horror.
About: Lionsgate bought this spec last year from “Lost” scribe Craig Rosenberg, which he was originally set to direct. But now “The Haunting In Connecticut” helmer, Peter Cornwell, has taken the reigns. Rosenberg has directed two movies of his own (“Hotel de Love” and “Half Light”), written two others (“The Uninvited” and “After The Sunset”) and landed an additional feature writing job after the sale of Panopticon for Universal and Don Murphy titled, “Second Sight,” about a detective who hides the fact that he’s going blind while working on a puzzling murder case.
Writer: Craig Rosenberg
Details: 114 pages (undated)

Gotta love the Reader Faves Voting! Staring down at my “to-read” list is often a daunting task. So many unknowns. So much risk with each script opened. I hate reading bad scripts. I hate writing negative reviews. It’s so much better when ten people tell me “read this!” so I actually know a script’s halfway decent. Which is how The Panopticon ended up on my radar.

And I’m glad you alerted me to it, because it’s well-documented this genre plays on a 24 hour repeating cycle in the Reeves household. And if you’re into sci-fi thrillers like “Umbra,” “Karma Coalition,” “Signals,” and “Passengers,” it probably takes up a healthy dose of your viewing time as well. But if you aren’t up for a little ridiculous logic, a few leaps of faith, and a plot hole or two, I wouldn’t bother even transferring this to your brand new Ipad. Cause at times The Panopticon is as silly as it is awesome. Touch screen at your own risk.

Peter Burke is a highly intelligent but otherwise ordinary guy who sells medical equipment for a run-of-the-mill sales company. He’s smart, and could definitely do better, but for whatever reason, Peter’s satisfied with where he’s at, living the simple life. He’s got a super-hot girlfriend, Lisa, who works for a large corporation, and who’d like to see him take advantage of that magnificent brain of his. But he remains insistent. He likes the no-frills lifestyle. He wants to keep it simple.

And then Peter gets a package. He opens it up, finds a DVD, hesitantly puts it in, and presses play. He’s terrified to see that the DVD is of him, five years ago. He looks gaunt, and appears to be in some sort of medical facility. Peter informs him that he’s not really Peter. His name is Nick. That the end of humanity is near. And that he’s the only person who can save the world.

Yikes. Things just turned decidedly un-simple.

Naturally Peter (Nick?) is kind of freaked out about this whole thing. Grabs a canoe, jumps in da Nile, figures he’ll head home and sleep it off. But oh look! His apartment is ransacked (I’m pretty sure in every one of the scripts I listed above, there’s an apartment ransacking scene – future writers may want to avoid this to stay original). And, uh oh, there are angry men with guns at the door (ditto on men with guns post-ransacking). Peter acutely speculates these men are here to kill him and does the window jump. He somehow gets to Lisa’s work where he takes her along for the ride. But men with guns are always good at finding fleeing protagonists. And they make no exceptions here. Just when it looks like they’re surrounded and all sorts of dead, a van spins up to block the shooters and two men pull Peter and Lisa to safety, escaping the blanket of bullets just in time.

David Rohacek claims to be a scientist. He’s accompanied by a mysterious man Peter remembers seeing at Starbucks. We’ll know him throughout the script as “Starbucks Guy.” These men inform Peter that the time has come. The aliens are about to take over earth, and he’s the only one who can save them. Although Peter’s been playing the surprised card all this time, turns out he might know a little more about that message from himself than he let on. See, Peter used to be a defense bio-chemist, the pinnacle of his work being a super plague that could wipe out humanity within a few days. But during the testing process, one of the blood samples he was provided with showed some characteristics that could only have been…alien in nature. Peter blabbed his concerns to his bosses, who immediately deemed him a nutcase and carted him off to the Happy House. Once there, Peter found that the other patients weren’t patients at all, but others who had stumbled onto this alien secret. The government, probably run by these aliens, was clearly keeping them here so they couldn’t expose this secret to the world.

The only way out was some major rehabilitation with high-octane psychiatric drugs. The “doctors” needed to convince them that there were no aliens, and that it was all a psychosomatic delusion. The members anticipated their eventual brainwashing, and encouraged Peter to make a tape for his later “cured” self, so he would remember the truth. This is, of course, the tape he received. Peter, who has the ability to create a mass plague which targets only the alien blood, is the only one who can save mankind. That is why he’s been rescued by these two, so they can take him back to their makeshift lab, and he can build and unleash the plague before the bad guys kill him.

The question, of course, is “Is any of this real?” Did Peter really discover an alien blood sample? Were the other patients really rounded up by the government? Could he just be manifesting all this to deal with some psychosomatic complex? As decision time grows near, the answer to this question will have devastating consequences for billions of people, all dependent on a choice Peter must make. Is he sane or not?

The cool thing about The Panopticon is that it separates itself from every other spec within the first five pages. The story is told mainly from the point of view of…you! Because YOU are Peter Burke. So when Rosenberg writes, he’s saying things like, “You go over and hug your girlfriend. She’s hot. Damn you’re lucky…Afterwards you go to grab a piece of toast. You burn your fingers. Oww.” I know this sounds cheap and traditionalists are already rolling their eyes. And I admit, when done wrong, this shit is amateur. But Rosenberg nails it and within two lines I was so used to it, I actually preferred it. It made everything feel so personal. Hey, *I* was the hero. That’s pretty cool. — I also wondered if this was just a writing choice, of if the movie will be shot from our point-of-view. Like a first person video game. I remember this being attempted a long time ago in an independent film. I never saw the film but always thought it would be a unique way to tell a story. Is that what they plan to do here? No idea, but it would definitely be wild if they went that route.

I also love how the script plays with whether you (“Peter”) are crazy or not. We see evidence for both possibilities, and Rosenberg expertly shifts that evidence in and out of your favor throughout the story. Sometimes you’re positive you’re crazy. But then a scene occurs that 100% convinces you you’re not. Then ten pages later, you’re doubting your sanity again. By the time the climax hits, we really have no fucking clue one way or the other. And it’s that uncertainty that leads us to one of the better thriller endings I’ve read in awhile. (minor ending spoilers here) In fact, I was going to give this a simple “worth the read,” right up before the last three pages. But then a big twist comes, and it’s one of those endings that makes you go, “Fuck,” because you can’t believe you didn’t see it coming. But you smile because it worked. That made this a “double worth the read” right away.

The only problems are the aforementioned plot holes and implausibilities. I think everybody has their genre where they allow the writers to play hard and fast with the rules, and this is mine. I didn’t mind the plot holes in Karma Coalition. And I didn’t mind them here. Why? Because there’s a certain kind of fun absurdity to it all that shuts down my logic-checking circuits. Logic-checking circuits? What am I, a droid now? Am I taking over the world?

Nah, that would be Steve Jobs. That damn Ipad is everywhere. And strangely, I want one.

The Panopticon is a cool thriller written with a unique style that separates it from the glut of scripts piling up on executives’ desks. If you like this type of story or you want to know how this separated itself from the pack, check it out.

Script link: The aliens took it.

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

What I learned: Make sure your writing style is a natural extension of your story’s tone. Rosenberg has a lot of fun with character names here. For example, Peter’s co-workers are named “Fat Guy Passing Time,” and “Divorcee Trying To Make Ends Meet.” This works because the tone of the script is fun, intense, bordering on absurd. But you probably wouldn’t do this in a script like, “The Hurt Locker.” The writing’s going to be more serious, more literal, more reflective of the tone. I bring this up because I’ll often see young writers using a really flashy and crazy style when they’re writing something like, “Up In The Air.” If you’re writing a crazy script like “Repo Men,” your style should be crazy. If you’re writing something traditional like, “Remember Me,” your writing style should be traditional. If you’re writing something like “The Hangover,” your writing style should be funny.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: A straight-laced college student must find his wallet on his 21st birthday or potentially lose his post-graduation dream job.
About: Sonny Lee and Patrick Walsh, writers on the show “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia,” sold this comedy spec last week to Paramount. This is their first spec script working together. Interestingly, the duo sold the script only a week after they left CAA for ICM. Also, the idea was thought up and is being produced by Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg, who, of course, wrote Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle.
Writer: Sonny Lee and Patrick Walsh (based on a story idea by Jon Hurwitz and Hayden Schlossberg)
Details: February 16, 2010

Ever wonder how the night in The Hangover actually played out? I’m not talking about the brief glimpses we got through pictures, abandoned babies, and lost teeth. But each insanely crazy detail? 21 Shots is that film. And really, it’s a film chronicling that “legendary” night in college we all had. The one we’ll still be recalling 30 years from now. For me it was Tri-Dorms Destruction Night. Unfortunately I can’t tell that story in a public forum due to fact that I’d probably go to jail for a decade. So I’ll just stick to telling Michael West’s story.

The aforementioned Michael is a lot like Joel Goodsen (Tom Cruise’s character from Risky Business). His overprotective parents have carefully planned out his life so that fresh out of college he’ll have that perfect high-paying job that all parents dream of for their kids. For that reason, Michael’s one of those rare college specimens who actually gives a shit about his grades. While his buddies could spend an entire day looking for the perfect sheet for that weekend’s toga party, Michael would rather studying for tomorrow’s unlikely but wholly possible pop quiz. In fact everything Michael’s done up to this point in life has been in preparation for tomorrow’s dream job interview.

The only problem is that the interview’s landed on the morning after his 21st birthday. And while Michael may have mastered the art of slipping out before the drinks are poured, not even he can escape the clutches of his 21st birthday party. Particularly because his friends, Ian (obsessed with blowjobs) Jessica (obsessed with her asshole boyfriend), and Shane (crazy ex-military weirdo) plan to take him out for the night of his life.

However, just as the wonderful evening begins, the group is mugged, and Michael’s wallet is stolen. If Michael doesn’t have his ID, he can’t get into the club where he’s supposed to schmooze his future employers. If he doesn’t schmooze them, he won’t land the job. And if he doesn’t land the job, everything he’s worked so hard for will be for naught. In other words, Michael must find that wallet!

21 Shots follows a pretty standard formula. Stick your characters in a bunch of fucked up situations and see what pops out. In Michael’s case, he and his friends must maneuver their way through a Training Day like house party, a strip club where Jessica must perform (but is unfortunately wearing her unflattering “period” underwear), dodge a crazy Chechnyan who likes to suck his own dick, and avoid a bizarre homeless man who likes to hump people’s legs (his name, in case you were wondering, is “Humpy The Bum”).

21 Shots is what it is – a comedy geared towards the youngsters. But whereas The Hangover treated its debauchery with a certain amount of class (if that’s possible) 21 Shots has no limits. Ball sacks hang over webcams. Guys suck their own penises. There’s a character whose name is Date Rape (no really, that’s his name). And, of course, let’s not forget Humpy The Bum.

But what surprised me about 21 Shots was that Lee and Walsh were actually trying to say something. And I think this is where you see the difference between an amateur script and a professional one. At its core, 21 shots explores that terrifying transition period when you realize you’re leaving the safe confines of institutional life. Your identity as a student is over. You’re now expected to become an active contributor to society. That’s a terrifying proposition for a 21 year old, particularly because you’ve spent most of your life being told what to do. If you’ve lived your whole life being told what to do, how do you know that what you’ve chosen is what you *want* to do?

So that part I liked about 21 Shots. As for the rest, it’s really a mixed bag. The script labors extensively to set up its premise. So much so that I lost track of where we were and why we were there several times. Michael has to find his ID to get into the club where his future employers are so he can schmooze them before tomorrow’s interview. But while we’re told this is of vital importance, I never understood why he couldn’t just show up the next morning and say his 21st birthday got out of hand and he couldn’t make it to the club. I don’t know any employers who wouldn’t understand that, which calls into question just how high the stakes of Michael finding his ID are. Compare that to The Hangover, whose premise was simple and whose stakes are sky-high: Find Doug before his wedding. So I had some issues with that aspect of the script.

But the big question is, why did it sell? I think there’s always going to be a market for the wacky comedy. The trick is partnering up with the right people. Hurwitz and Schlossberg are becoming major forces in the industry, as they’re almost single-handedly branding the young crazy no-holds-barred comedy angle. They have several of these types of movies in the pipeline, including another project I reviewed awhile ago (and liked quite a bit) that they’re directing. So the industry sees these guys as experts in this market and they trust them. So when they come along with an idea in that wheelhouse, any studio is going to take a good hard look at it, and in this case, they bought it.

For me, with college being a good ways away, it wasn’t quite my thing. Maybe if they’d written a script called, “1 and A Half Beers And A Nap.” That’s something I could relate to.

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

What I learned: 21 Shots uses a lot of pop culture references. There are jokes about Clay Aiken, Brandy, the Duke LaCrosse team, and David Carridine sex games. Using pop culture is always a risky proposition, especially these days, with how quickly media picks up new stories. A joke that’s hilarious today could be dated two weeks from now. And since you never know when someone’s going to read your script, staying topical is almost impossible. For this reason, I advise against it. Anything that dates your script is usually a bad thing. For example, if you make a joke about Britney Spears’ shaved head, I know when your script was written, and it’s already feeling stale. Since these two had Hurwitz and Schlossberg on their team, there’s an understanding that the jokes they’re using are interchangeable. They can always update them once production starts. But for you, the non-producer partner-having writer, it’s too risky. I’d advise to stay out of the pop culture game.

One last note. I know these comedy specs get beaten up in the talkback by the fanboys who are looking for more genre-fare. But I also know that there are a lot of comedy fans who read the site because I get a ton of requests for comedy reviews. Yet you guys never show up when it’s time to discuss the script. That’s what we’re here for. We want to see what scripts are selling or getting made, and we want to discuss why so we can make ourselves better writers. So comedy fans, let’s hear you!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A woman moves into a large apartment, only to realize that someone may be watching her…from the inside.
About: The Resident will star Hilary Swank, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Christopher Lee. Newcomer and hot video director Antti J. Jokinen is directing from a script that he co-wrote. The new production arm of Hammer Films is producing. They are probably best known as the company who will bring us the American remake of “Let The Right One In.” And they are not in any way affiliated with MC Hammer. As far as I know.
Writers: Robert Orr and Antti J. Jokinen – rewrite by Erin Cressida Wilson
Details: 99 pages (April 9, 2009 draft)

Hilary Swank’s film “Amelia” was one of those doomed projects from the outset. It had to be made, because in this age of biopics, Earheart’s story is too compelling not to make, but – and I hate to say this because of how Hollywood it sounds – there’s something about Earheart’s look that doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t know if it’s the short hair. I don’t know if it’s the energy. I don’t know if it’s the subject matter, but just like I wasn’t interested in watching Johnny Depp play gangster dress-up, I wasn’t interested in watching Hillary Swank play doomed pilot dress up.

And here Swank is, by most accounts a perfect choice for the role, getting sucked into that black hole. She could’ve given the best performance of her life, and no one would’ve known because nobody showed up to see it. So when you’re a star and have a public bomb, the next project you choose is an important one. Hollywood may be a little more tolerant of their actors than their directors, but string a trio of duds together, and you’re looking at a co-starring role opposite Val Kilmer in a movie called “Passion Kill” that’s cutting side-deals with local Redbox Kiosks to have their poster featured on the new release panel.

And when you’re in that quagmire, the thriller is the perfect genre to take a chance in. Because when you think about it, you’re really not taking that big of a chance. Thrillers are cheap to make, so if the studios realize they’re bad after they’re done, they can skimp on the advertising and cut their losses. We the consumer don’t notice that “Big Name Actress A” is in a new film, so when it bombs bigger than Nagasaki, it does so under the radar and the star’s profile is kept intact. It’s like getting a mulligan. On the flip side, a good thriller has the potential to really break out. Silence Of The Lambs, Seven, Kiss The Girls, Double Jeopardy, The Ring (Horror-Thriller), these kinds of movies can propel a struggling actor/actress back onto the radar. It’s the movie equivalent of low-risk high-reward.

So it’s no surprise that Swank has hinged her next effort on the genre. Now all you need is a good script and it’s back to battling for Oscars. Simple, right?

Juliet Dermer is an ER doctor whose life drastically changes when she finds her husband in bed with another woman. Forced to go on her own for the first time in a long time, she faces a far more challenging task than fixing a marriage. Yeah, I’m talking about finding an affordable apartment in New York. After the expected glut of garbage options (studios barely bigger than a walk-in closet) she happens upon a beautiful sprawling living space in an old building, and guess what? It’s going for 1/10 the asking price of similar apartments. One of the first lessons my dad ever taught me was that if it’s too good to be true? It probably is. Juliet’s father obviously never taught her this lesson.

Max, a studly man’s man who looks an awful lot like that guy who died in Gray’s Anatomy (not that I’ve ever seen it) is the kind but slightly odd owner of the building. About as comfortable in a social situation as your local Spelling Bee champ, Max spends every waking hour working on and improving the building. He plays off the super cheap apartment price by pointing out its many problems (including an underground maintenance train that runs through every so often). But you still get the sense that it’s just a little…too cheap. Well, at least we get that sense. Juliet, on the other hand, is fed up with looking. She just wants a place to sleep at night and this building, with all its imperfections, is far and away her best option.

So Juliet moves in, and her and Max begin a slow but meaningful friendship. During this time, she’s sizing him up. Here is a man who could have any woman in the world, yet has such a warped sense of his self-worth, he’s barely able to look them (or her) in the eye. Now to you or me that might equal: Red Flag. To Juliet though? Boyfriend material!

In the meantime, Juliet’s picture perfect apartment is starting to show its imperfections. All the things she fell in love with about it initially, don’t seem so charming anymore. That warehouse-type space? It sure causes a lot of shadows at night. And she knows its not possible but every once in awhile she feels like someone might be…in those shadows. Watching her.

Juliet then makes the intriguing decision to invite Max over for dinner, afterwards hopping into the bedroom with plans to go to the bone zone. Only right before the deed is done, Juliet has a change of heart, and tells Max that the date was a mistake. Uhhhhhh…yeah. This is going to go over well. Cause the guy who sometimes acts a little “weird?” The guy who has a key to every room in the building? Those nights you think you’re being watched? Well, they might be more connected than you think, sister.

As I was reading The Resident, I couldn’t help but feel like it was too plain. I really like simple thrillers, and for the most part, I was enjoying myself, but I wanted something more from the material. Luckily, after we head into the second act, I got my wish. The Resident shocked me by jumping back in time, and telling the same story but this time from Max’s point-of-view. This was exactly the twist I needed and it really works. We begin to see why Max is so strange, and just how deep that strangeness goes. But the reason it works so well, is that we learn that Juliet was right. She was being watched. And now we get to see where and how Max watched her. Now I’m not going to lie. The Resident makes some questionable choices with this technique, flipping back and forth between terrifying and silly. But for most of the story, we’re pretty fucking terrified by what’s going on.

There’s quite a few things I enjoyed about the script. First of all, it does a great job at shaping sympathy for both characters. Everybody knows how awful it feels to be cheated on, so we like Juliet right away. But strangely, we also sympathize with Max. The guy’s clearly had a fucked up childhood and when it comes down to it, Juliet screwed him over in a big way, so when we’re in Max’s point-of-view, spying on Juliet, there’s this tiny evil part of us that almost understands him. As much as you can understand a fucked up psychotic weirdo potential serial killer who watches a woman from the shadows of an apartment, of course.

I’m also starting to better appreciate how writers texture their screenplays. Once you’ve done all the heavy lifting (plot, character, structure), how do you give your story a distinctness that sets it apart from everything else? I loved how Orr, Jokinen and Wilson placed this building over an underground maintenance train that rolls through every once in awhile, shaking its bricks and rattling its pipes. We’ve seen this kind of thing before, but making it a maintenance train – a train devoid of any human beings – almost ghost-like – that’s what really got me. It’s a minor detail and yet it brings the building alive, almost makes it a character. It’s easy to forget how much of an effect those kinds of things can have on a reader.

The Resident is a cross between Fatal Attraction and Psycho. It’s got enough going for it to justify its existence, and I quite enjoyed the read.

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

What I learned: Where I’m from, there’s two type of folk. Those who ain’t. And those who are knee-high on a grasshopper. Which type ain’t you ain’t? You all come back now. — Okay, that’s not what I learned. But that is the funniest line I’ve heard in ages. And 10 extra credit points for anyone who can tell me what show it’s from. – As for what I learned. This script was a great reminder to never give up looking for a different way to tell your story. Most beginner/amateur writers would’ve written this story with a straight-forward approach. And while it probably would’ve been decent, it wouldn’t have stood out the way it does by switching POVs. So take a step back from the script you’re working on and ask, “Is there some way I can make this story different from every other story like it?” You don’t want to force anything. In other words, switching POVs wouldn’t have worked for every script out there. But I guarantee you there’s something you can do to make your script stand apart from the pack.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: After a freak plane crash, an awkward teenage boy must enlist the help of a sexually frustrated dwarf, a smokin’ hot cyborg, and an idiot in a bunny suit to defeat the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting and restore sunlight to the bizarre land of Spectre Leaf.
About: This is the official winner of the Scriptshadow Logline/Screenplay Contest. 1000 Loglines were submitted, which were narrowed down to 100, of which I read the first 10 pages. From those, the 28 best were selected, of which I read the entire screenplay. “Oh Never, Spectre Leaf!” was the clear cut winner. As for C. Ryan and Chad, they wrote a script called “The Wake” (a zombie anthology) that won them Screenplay Of The Month on Triggerstreet in 2007. That led to signing with a manager (Jewerl Ross of Silent R Lit). The South Carolinans then came out to LA to take some meetings in 2008, but unfortunately nothing came of them. So they went back to South Carolina to think up their next masterpiece. Which turned out to be…THIS. Something I thought was really interesting to hear, was that Ryan reviewed 150 scripts on Triggerstreet in a single year. Now to some that might sound like torture, but the second I heard that, everything made sense. This script exercises the kind of skill that only comes from someone who understands all the pitfalls that make a read boring. Turns out those 150 reviews paid off.
Writers: C. Ryan Kirkpatrick and Chad Musick
Details: 110 pages

Oh man, where do I start with this one? I guess we’ll start with the logline. Because I almost didn’t pick it. Quite honestly, it’s not the kind of story that appeals to me. But it was so bizarre, I felt I just had to give it a chance, even though I was 99% sure that they wouldn’t be able to pull it off. These sort of “throw everything and the kitchen sink” at the logline approaches definitely make the logline stand out, but it’s rare that the writers can actually back it up. When I read the first 10 pages, I thought, “Hmmm…this is actually really good.” It was one of the few scripts I marked down immediately as a finalist. There was hope!

But again, I was skeptical. As I noted before, a bad First 10 Pages almost guarantees a bad script. Unfortunately, the flip side of that doesn’t hold true. A *good* first ten pages does not guarantee a *good* script. This is mainly because it’s not hard to write an intriguing first 10 pages. Have someone of prominence get murdered. Have a woman defy physics as she’s chased by mysterious “agents” across city rooftops. Throw a giant alien ship over Johannesburg. It’s really not that difficult when you think about it. But the second act is like an amateur screenwriter graveyard. It’s where scripts go to die. This is where screenplays truly get their mettle tested and I had already experienced too many screenplays that didn’t know what to do once they left the safety of the first 25 pages. Having a clearly definable goal. Building a story. Developing characters that arc. Raising the stakes. Placing obstacles in your characters’ paths. It’s that complex juggling act that you can only learn by doing it over and over and over again.

Now if just writing a good screenplay weren’t enough of a challenge, C. Ryan and Chad decided to make their job even tougher. The story (if you couldn’t tell by the logline) is a reimagining of The Wizard Of Oz. I can’t tell you how many scripts I’ve read that were reimaginings of The Wizard Of Oz or Alice In Wonderland. And every single one of them was, to put it nicely, not good. I’d even go so far as to say nearly every MOVIE that’s ever tried to reimagine these two classics has failed. The problem is, you’re trying to out-imagine two of the most imaginiative stories of all time. Talking lions, card people, tin men, shrinking heroes, flying monkeys. Writer’s attempts to put a new spin on this stuff usually ends up in cliché, failure, or worst of all, embarrassment. Oh Never, Spectre Leaf is the first script I’ve ever read where they reimagine all these things in a fresh new way.

But creating crazy characters is only half the battle. We still have to want to go on the journey with them. And while some of these characters are about as cuddly as a rabid porcupine, you’re always dying to hear the next thing that comes out of their mouths. Probably the thing that impressed me most about this script was just how distinguished all these weird characters were. The dwarf is sexually frustrated, Death is manically depressed, the Wench is eternally cocky, we even have a Shakespearean werewolf. Combine that with each character talking their own way, acting their own way, and the level of uniqueness here just leaps off of the page.

So how does it all go down?

I’ll be honest, it’s kinda hard to summarize Oh Never, Spectre Leaf. It wasn’t designed to light up a coverage report, that’s for sure. But I’ll give it a shot. Holden Tucker is a typical geeky teenager with typical geeky teenager problems, namely that he can’t get laid. His best friend to the end is his pet iguana, Wyclef. When Holden’s single mom gets an unexpected call informing her her mother’s just died, Holden’s forced to jump on the next plane to attend the funeral (and just so you know these guys’ geek cred isn’t in question, the flight number is “815”).

The pilots must not have received the entire flight plan because the plane ends up disintegrating in mid-air and scattering across the mysterious island of “Spectre Leaf.” Why is it called “Spectre Leaf?” Because, as one of the characters explains, tongue-in-cheek: once you’re there, you can never “’spect to leave.” Spectre Leaf is basically Joss Whedon’s wet dream. There are enough creatures on this island to fill up every movie and TV show he ends up doing for the rest of his life.

As for Holden, part of his plane landed on and killed what we assume from the two hooker boots sticking out from under it, was probably a prostitute. And that prostitute happened to be a very angry dwarf’s date for the evening. Dink Ledbetter, four feet of muttonchops and the worst mouth this side of Richard Prior is livid. This was, for all intents and purposes, his one chance at getting laid, and Holden and his damn plane ruined it all. If you thought you were prepared for this script before, you might realign your prognosis when Dink hits you with this line: “I was on a picnic, jackass! And I was half a jar of full-moonshine away from cramming my funstuff in her shitbox!”

Despite how much the gun-toting dwarf would like to blow Holden’s face into oblivion, the two find themselves with other problems, such as the Siamese werewolf that just showed up. Mecutio and Pippi Hemingway inform Dink that the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting is on her way and she wants the boy. Not that Dink could give a shit, but he apparently hates the Nocturnal Wench more than he hates Holden, so he grabs him and the two make a mad dash into the sewers of Spectre Leaf.

Eventually they end up at Dink’s old Orphanage, where Holden learns his purpose. The land of Spectre Leaf has been expecting him. For the last three dozen years, the island has been cast into darkness by the Nocturnal Wench Everlasting, and if Holden can get his hands on a set of three golden keys, he may be able to unlock the chest that has kept this place in darkness, breaking the wench’s spell and bringing light back to the land of Spectre Leaf. A very unhappy Dink is assigned to protect him on his journey. And a half-retarded man-bunny named Harvey (of course) will also join them for…well, it’s not clear why Harvey’s joining them but it’s a half-retarded man-bunny so I don’t think we’re supposed to ask questions. The trio (along with Wyclef his Iguana) jump onto the “Highway to Hell” and off they go.

Although all Holden wants to do is get back home, his journey takes him through a cast of characters unlike any you’ve ever seen. There are large-breasted cyborgs, serial killer ninjas, Cyclopeses, tiny men in large wheelchairs, and even Death himself (who’s a manic-depressive due to the Wench Everlasting’s relentless abuse). And that’s just the first half of the script. They say that watching the original Wizard Of Oz on acid is the quintessential “perfect trip.” I say Spectre Leaf is the result of C. Ryan and Chad going on this trip one too many times. :)

And yes, I can hear some of the skepticism now. I can hear it seeping out of your cynical brains and into your keyboards and clogging the internet. “It’s too much! It’s too crazy!” I think if I were in your place, I’d probably be saying the same thing. But here’s the difference. These guys know how to write. They’re talented enough and smart enough to make it work. As I mentioned before, I’m not the audience for werewolves and witches and angry dwarves. The writers even said to me themselves that due to my well-documented taste in quirky independent character fare, they figured they had no shot. And yet still, I made this leap of faith and I loved it.

Is it perfect? No. If I were offering feedback to the team (nudge nudge) I’d develop the characters a little more. When I look back at the original Wizard of Oz, Dorothy really isn’t the one who changed. It was everyone else (the tin man, the scarecrow and the lion). But that was the 30s and we approach characters a little differently these days. I feel like all of the main characters should go through some sort of transformation (however slight) and I have to admit, Holden felt a little thin. We know so little about his life beforehand (his wants, his desires, his flaws) that there really isn’t a whole lot to explore once we get to the island. I’d love to see that change.

Also, despite my earlier comment, there are a few places where it is sensory overload. There are so many crazy characters and so much going on that there are sequences that feel like great big blobs of shiny colors. I had to step back and go, “whoa, wait a minute, what’s going on here?” But for the most part, these guys maneuver their way through these moments skillfully – almost as if they’re sensing your concerns – and we’re right back to the story before you know it.

I also sense that the main criticism will be that a script like this will never get made. The budget would be too high. I wouldn’t say that criticism is outrageous, but I’m not so sure you couldn’t market this film as a reimagining (or different take) on The Wizard of Oz and get a decent box office return. You’d need to land a director who could handle the material but stranger things have happened. I actually think if “Alice In Wonderland” does well, it could propel the profile of this script quite a bit. But that’s neither here nor there. I’ll let the people with money answer that question.

My one final question for C. Ryan and Chad is…why no musical number? It seems like a natural nod, and would fit perfectly inside this bizarre world you’ve created.

This script is proof to me that there are talented writers out there who simply haven’t gotten their shot. All they need is a little exposure. Hopefully this review makes it a little easier for them.

First Ten Pages of Spectre Leaf: First Ten Pages (If you’d like to read the full script, contact C. Ryan and Chad at flanagancrk@aol.com).

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

What I learned: Putting your characters on a physical journey (walking, flying, roadtrip) is a great device for a story because the goal of the characters is always clear to us. They’re trying to get to [whatever place they’re trying to get to]. So you don’t have to manipulate the reader and come up with some forced artificial goal that propels them forward. The journey structure does all the work for you.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: A guy decides to stalk his ex-girlfriend.
About: Carnes & Gilbert were on Variety’s “Top Ten Screenwriters To Watch” list of 2005. They sold “Stalker: A Love Story” to Paramount for 1.75 million dollars. The two also wrote Mr. Woodcock. More info here.
Writers: Michael Carnes & Josh Gilbert

For those of you who have read a significant number of scripts, you know how it is when you’re smack dab in the middle of something that just ain’t working. Now for those of you who read scripts casually, the reaction to such a situation is easy. YOU STOP READING. I don’t have that luxury. Quitting in the middle of the script means I just wasted 45 minutes and now have to start all over again. It’s for this reason that I can’t solely post positive reviews. And that’s too bad. Because I wish Scriptshadow could be a place of celebration and candy and rainbows and the occasional unicorn (no leprechauns though). I hold no ill will towards writers and I get no satisfaction from pointing out when something doesn’t work. But man, I have to be honest with you, “Stalker: A Love Story” was not good on many levels. And it really is confusing when you’re talking about a near two million dollar sale. “Am I missing something?”, you think. I’d assume the most common response to being stalked is feeling violated. And I felt very violated reading this script.

My basic complaint is this: The setup makes absolutely no sense. David and Amanda are in a relationship. Fine. Sounds good to me. But David, an architect, is a workaholic and isn’t very into Amanda. He doesn’t like to do things with her. He’s the kind of boyfriend you say something to and then, forever-later he looks up and slurs “Whah?” So to be clear: David loves his job and doesn’t love his relationship. Amanda finally realizes that he’s never going to change and dumps David. She’s through. How does David react? Eh. Shrugs his shoulders and says, “Oh well”, then moves on. Let me reiterate: David doesn’t seem to like Amanda at all.

So then we get a “Six Months Later” title and David is still happily plugging away at his job. In fact, things are going so well he’s just been offered a contract on a new building. Hooray. Once again, Amanda isn’t even a blip on David’s radar. He probably doesn’t even remember her name. One night while David is pulled out for drinks, he runs into Amanda’s friend, who informs David that Amanda is in a new relationship. And in a span of about 3 seconds, David decides that he’s always loved Amanda and is going to stalk her until he gets her back.

Uh…..WHAT???

How does this even make a remote amount of sense? I don’t like you. Now I’m infatuated with you?? I’ve seen Fraggle Rock episodes with more logic. It was so outrageous of a character change, I scrolled around to make sure I hadn’t accidentally opened another script. I can MAYBE see this working if David realized what he lost the second Amanda broke up with him. But six months later? After we’ve established he doesn’t even like the woman?? Someone had just sent me a one-way ticket to Bizarre-o World.

From that point on Carnes and Gilbert had no chance with me. If characters could just turn into different people without explanation, why not add wizards and dragons while you’re at it? But it was the missed opportunity of “Stalker” that ate at me most. Why didn’t the writers go for an edgier comedy? Having your main character be a stalker is something that’s never been done before in a comedy. You could’ve created something truly groundbreaking here, which is exactly what the title implies will happen. And I’m sure that expectation had plenty to do with my disappointment. But man, I feel like they really missed the boat. Instead of doing something different, this turned out to be one of the most standard of standard romantic comedies I’ve ever read.

As for the rest of the script, David turns to his Indian neighbor, Pumpang, for support. Pumpang is actually *the* most broken up about the dumping of everyone. He loved David and Amanda together and when their relationship ended, he spent days on end crying (as opposed to David – who didn’t cry at all). When David’s amateur efforts at stalking fail, Pumpang introduces him to a spy store, where the two buy all sorts of gadgets and listening devices so they can more accurately stalk Amanda. Now when I say “stalk”, I use that term very loosely. Because every stalking scene is played purely for laughs. There are no consequences or stakes to what they’re doing. We know that even if David gets caught, he’ll be fine. Without any sense of danger, none of the stalking scenes held any tension.

Anyway, David lets his co-worker, Karen, in on the whole plot. Karen has seen every romantic comedy ever made and is constantly using examples from them to get David to move on. It turns out Karen might be a bit of a stalker herself though when it’s eventually revealed she’s infatuated with David. Although she never felt like a real person so I couldn’t get into her. And to complicate matters, Amanda’s new boyfriend is also David’s client for his new building. Except it doesn’t really complicate matters at all. It just feels like an interesting coincidence. I’m trying to think if there’s anything else to the story but I’m coming up blank.

In the end, David gives a big long speech to Amanda about perfection. Her current boyfriend may be perfect. But David is imperfect, which, he points out, is exactly why she fell in love with him. Since the theme of perfection or even the hint of its importance was never once mentioned in the screenplay, this speech comes out of nowhere. Luckily for David though, it’s enough to convince Amanda, and the two live happily ever after.

Was there anything positive about the script? Well, I thought the title was great. It was the reason I was excited to read the screenplay in the first place. Pumpang’s obsession with getting David and Amanda back together was kind of cute. But in the end, there were an avalanche of negatives with Stalker. I congratulate Carnes and Glibert on a great sale. But for me, personally, I couldn’t get into it.

[x] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: There’s a scene in the middle of “Stalker: A Love Story,” where David is pressured into going to an Asian Massage Parlor. I won’t get into how many Asian massage parlor scenes I read in a week, but what upset me so much about the scene was that it had absolutely nothing to do with the story. In other words, you could’ve taken the scene out and nobody would’ve been confused as to what was going on. If your scene isn’t essential to the screenplay, don’t write it. And if you have a really funny scene you’re dying to put in your movie but it isn’t essential to the story, take the extra time and FIND A WAY TO MAKE IT ESSENTIAL TO THE STORY. Now you have a funny scene and it makes sense. Everybody wins.