Genre: Sci-Fi/Family
Premise: (from Hit List) In the near future, after a ten-year-old boy’s father dies, the androids programmed to care for him move to the suburbs and pretend to be a family in order to give the boy a shot at a normal life.
About: Matt Lieberman is quietly becoming one of the biggest family-comedy writers in Hollywood. He broke out with his sale of the upcoming Ryan Reynold’s vehicle, Free Guy. He wrote one of Netflix’s most popular movies ever with The Christmas Chronicles. He’s writing the next adaptation of Scooby-Doo (starring Zac Efron and Mark Wahlberg), and has landed one of the coolest nostalgia gigs in town, scripting a Short Circuit reboot. This, his latest script, was picked up by Lionsgate earlier this year.
Writer: Matt Lieberman
Details: 108 pages

There are very few writers in town who can write an original spec script that studios are actually interested in. In a world where IP is everything, original material is treated more as a resume than a product. But Matt Lieberman is on that rare list where if he’s got a spec, he’s going to sell it.

And I have a theory about why Matt is succeeding. Right now the script market is so focused on politically-fueled subject matter that everyone is emotionally exhausted after a script read. It’s refreshing to open a script up and it only be about entertaining you. Lieberman just wants you to have fun for two hours. I don’t know about you, but that’s why I fell in love with movies in the first place. Because I could go to a theater for a couple of hours and feel good.

Christmas Chronicles left me with a cheerful smile on my face. Let’s see if MacHines does the same.

It’s about 20 years in the future and 10 year old Sam lives in a beautiful countryside home where his genius father is busy working on the next world-changing invention. Meanwhile, while he’s busy, Sam is parented by two robots, Jack and Amy. These robots look and act like real people. They even have empathy. And although Sam loves the few moments a day where he gets to see his real father, Jack and Amy are so active in his life, they might as well be his mom and dad.

When Sam’s father dies, the company funding his research heads to the home to reclaim their property – Jack and Amy. Realizing Sam will be raised by these corporate scumbags, Jack and Amy flee with Sam to the suburbs, where they come up with a plan. They’ll blend in as a real family then look for a great family who can take Sam in.

Sam’s dad’s old company places its best robot bad guy, Patrick, on the job. Patrick must find out where the MacHines (as they’ve named themselves) have escaped to, go there, and bring them back. Meanwhile, Sam gets to go to school for the first time and interact with real kids, something that has its pros and cons. The MacHines also build Sam a six year old robot sister to better mirror the nuclear family experience.

As Patrick closes in, the family begins to have doubts about giving Sam away. But none of that ends up mattering since Patrick is able to kidnap Sam, using him as bait to get Jack and Amy to come to him. Since they have no other choice, they show up, and it’s then that they learn the truth about Sam, which, if you’ve watched your fair share of science-fiction movies, you can probably figure out yourself.

Meet the MacHines has a lot of potential IF it’s played more as a comedy. Right now it’s in this weird place where it’s taking itself too seriously, and I’m not sure the execution is up to par with this approach. The best moment in the script is when the family has to go buy clothes for the first time and we cut to a store and Jack says to one of the assistants, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help us choose clothing befitting a normal family,” and we pull back and he’s talking to a mannequin. We needed more of that and less serious drama. Because the idea of a robot family trying to fit in as normal people is a funny one. Why treat it any other way?

The script had a few other things working against it. For example, it was unclear who the protagonist was. I thought it was Sam at first. Then I figured it may be Jack. Then I figured it was Jack AND Amy. Then I settled on the whole family. While this is certainly doable, it’s harder than it looks. For whatever reason, the audience feels better when they’re connected to an individual.

Even in Avengers Endgame, we needed those scenes where it’s just Tony Stark trying to figure out how they’re going to solve this problem. He’s the hero. He’s the one who makes all the other pieces move. And if you’re bouncing around from family member to family member and everyone’s getting the exact same amount of time, the audience feels like they never get to know any one person well. Again, IT CAN BE DONE. It’s just really hard. And most writers who try it fail.

Another problem is that the goal here is murky. We’re told they’re going to look for a family to raise Sam. But it isn’t clear how that’s going to work. I mean, once they find a family they like, was the plan to walk up, tell them they’re robots, and ask if they’ll raise Sam for them? When it comes to major structural pieces of your screenplay like the goal, you don’t want to mess with murky. These are things you want to be strong and clear.

Another thing I would’ve changed is having Jack and Amy parenting Sam already (at the beginning). The real dad is never around so they do all of the parenting duties. Except the whole idea behind this premise is that the the parents have to figure out how to be “real” parents. So if they already have been parents for the past ten years, then achieving that goal isn’t difficult. Why not have them be caretakers at the mansion? They’d interact with Sam, but only in a robotic binary manner. That way we’re really wondering how they’re going to pull off this suburban family thing.

This reminds me of that movie, Keeping up with Joneses, which was about a hitman/woman pretending to be a suburban married couple. But Lieberman’s premise is better and has more opportunity for unique comedic moments, which is one of the most prized possessions a comedy premise can provide. Lean harder into the comedy and remove anything that deals too seriously with their situation. This isn’t that kind of movie.

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

What I learned: When it comes to comedy concepts, you’re looking for something that provides you with comedic scenes you haven’t seen before. So with Keeping up with the Joneses, you’ve got a killer couple who’s pretending to be normal suburbanites. The problem is, we’ve seen guns and suburbia before. We’ve seen it with Mr. and Mrs. Smith. We’ve seen it with True Lies. So there isn’t a comedic moment you’re going to be able to show us that we haven’t seen before. With the MacHines, however, we could spend 20 minutes in the comments section and probably come up with 5 original comedic scenarios for the idea. This is the value of an original comedic premise.

Genre: Whimsical Dramedy
Premise: A young man makes the all important second round of a mission to Mars contest, and begins his training, despite the fact that everyone in town thinks the contest is a scam.
About: This script snuck onto the 2016 Black List, grabbing 6 votes. The project, written by Rebecca Banner, got some initial heat, attaching newbie director Sam Boyd (In A Relationship), but struggled to get money in that all-important financing stage. Contrary to popular belief, Rebecca Banner is not the mother of Marvel cinematic hero, Bruce Banner.
Writer: Rebecca Banner
Details: 106 pages

Ah, the Delusional Adventurist sub-genre. One of the most beloved by writers, yet one of the hardest to execute.

From The Fisher King to Field of Dreams to Nebraska to K-Pax to Safety Not Guaranteed, the temptation of writing these movies is their adult fairy tale nature. We may have outgrown our knights and princesses saving the day. But boy would we like to write about a guy who puts an ad in the paper asking for a partner to go back in time with him.

I wrote a Delusional Adventurist script back in the day about a guy who believed he could use the junk in his dead father’s junk yard to build a satellite receiver that would allow him to talk to his father again. Yeah, um, that script didn’t go anywhere. But boy did I love writing it. This genre really allows you to use your imagination and have fun. And isn’t that what writing movies is all about?

27 year-old Alex lives in a small town in the middle of nowhere and has recently learned that he’s made the all-important second round of the Mission Mars Space Program Contest, which will put him in a ship with a group of fellow astronauts to fly to Mars where they’ll live the rest of their lives. Alex takes the mission very seriously and starts preparing immediately, even though they don’t leave for another 10 years.

Alex’s sister, Liz, considers Alex’s obsession with this Mars mission embarrassing. Everyone knows that the company is a scam. They’ll never be able to put this thing together. So Alex prancing around town telling anyone who will listen that he’s a Mars astronaut is not only making him look bad, but the rest of the family as well.

Alex decides that because a Mars trip is dangerous, he should probably take out a life insurance policy, so he heads into the local insurance office where he meets Daisy, who just moved into town. When Alex tells Daisy he’s going to Mars, she can’t stop laughing, until she realizes he’s serious. Um, okay, she says, I guess we’ll write up a policy for you.

Daisy takes a liking to Alex, but Alex makes it clear that they can’t get too close. He must put all of his focus into training. Even though, based on what’s in the script, Alex’s training amounts to walking around town aimlessly. Eventually, we learn that Alex and Liz had a brother, Christopher, who died last year, and that maybe this is playing into Alex’s Mars’ obsession. When you need a little extra drama, why not throw in a dead family member backstory, right? Will Alex finally face reality and be with this amazing girl? Or is he stuck living in a fantasy world the rest of his life?

So how do you make the Delusional Adventurist genre work? Well, for starters, you have to figure out if your hero is smart or dumb. For example, Ray (Kevin Costner) in Field of Dreams is smart. Kenneth, in Safety Not Guaranteed, is not smart. The story is completely different depending on which route you take. And this was Space Oddity’s biggest misstep. I had no idea who Alex was. At first I thought he was dumb. Then I thought he may have been on the spectrum. Then I thought he was of average intelligence but just in a daze since his brother died.

Let me make something clear to all writers out there. If the reader doesn’t understand who your hero is, you’re screwed. Nothing else you do in the screenplay will matter because we don’t have a handle on the person who’s taking us on the journey. This is why I PLEAD with screenwriters to spend more time on your hero’s introductory scene than any other scene in the script. I don’t care if it takes you THREE MONTHS, as long as, once you’ve figured out that scene, the audience is crystal clear on who your hero is.

Yes, there are times where you’ll obscure your hero for mystery purposes. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the 95% of screenplays where you introduce a hero and we know immediately who they are.

For that reason, it took me a good 60 pages until I had a reasonable feel for who Alex was. By that point, with half the script gone, there was only so much of myself I could invest. Truth be told, there were a number of newbie mistakes in the script. It’s a script based around dialogue but the dialogue is predictable and safe. It’s never bad. But it’s never good either. And if you’re writing a script where the dialogue is one of the main focuses, then the dialogue has to be exceptional.

I knew the script was in trouble when Daisy’s job had absolutely nothing to do with the story. Literally the only reason she holds this position is so Alex can walk into an insurance store and there’s a girl there he can start a relationship with. I can’t remember insurance coming up at all after that scene. Not only that, but the act of getting insurance didn’t make sense for the story! The one thing we know about Alex is that he only cares about going to Mars. He’s selfish. So why would he open a life insurance policy? Who does he care about after he dies? Nobody.

This is the kind of stuff that bothers because it’s an indication that the writer isn’t thinking through what they’re writing. They get an idea – “I know. I’ll have him fall in love with an insurance saleswoman.” But then they don’t think about what that means or why the character would hold that position or why that choice is best for the story. They think the initial inspiration is enough to justify the choice. And that is enough to justify the choice in a first draft. But then you have to challenge those choices and decide if they’re the right choices. In almost every case, they can be improved upon.

The original time machine in Back to the Future was a refrigerator. Had Zemeckis and Gale kept that idea, that movie would’ve been a hell of a lot less exciting.

Unfortunately I was too caught up in all the rookie mistakes to think about the bigger question here, which is how do you write a great Delusional Adventurist script? And I think the answer to that question is a boring one. Or, at least, not the one you’d expect. It’s to make the characters interesting regardless of the storyline. In other words, in the end, it doesn’t matter if the mission is real, if the field is real, if time travel is real. What matters is having a catch with your father. And that payoff only works if you’ve done the hard work on the characters. Like I said, I couldn’t tell you if Alex’s IQ was 90 or 160. That’s how clueless I was about this character. So of course I cared very little about his relationship with Daisy.

With all that said, I’m a sucker for a good Delusional Adventurist script so here’s hoping that the next one gets a worth the read.

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

What I learned: “A means to a monologue.” Too many writers treat dead family member backstories as a means to a final act monologue and nothing more. They don’t truly explore grief. They don’t truly explore pain. They don’t know who those characters were before and after their brother died. They merely see plot beats as chess pieces to move around until they can give that final monologue. Look, I get it. It’s a character piece. There’s probably going to be a big monologue at the end. But it needs to be earned! You actually have to feel the things the characters are feeling in order for it to land. Jason Bateman says that the only way he can cry on cue is if he imagines that his kids are dead. I know that’s drastic but who said the arts were easy? If you’re not feeling it when you write it, we’re not feeling it either.

I was recently watching a movie reviewer who had the audacity to say, “I don’t know why more critics aren’t supporting Men in Black International considering how many diversity boxes it ticks.” I mean, am I living in an alternate universe right now? Why would anybody encourage others to see a movie other than that they enjoyed it? Truth be told, Men in Black International has way more problems than what boxes it’s ticking.

The franchise became a hit not because of all the cutesy alien special effects, but because of the chemistry between Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones. I know they’re trying to make Tessa Thompson a thing. But she doesn’t have chemistry with anybody. She’s a dead-eyed boring actress. And casting her in a tired franchise was the nail in the coffin for MIB. I’m sorry if I sound upset. But sometimes Hollywood can be so frustrating. Everybody on the planet saw that this was a dud. So why didn’t the people who were making it – the supposed experts – see the same thing?

I think I know.

The Marvel Armada.

Marvel has got everyone else thinking cross-eyed. They’re all so desperate to put a dent in the perfectly constructed mega movie franchise, they can’t see straight. And I sort of understand where they’re coming from. I mean, you can’t throw up your hands and give up, right? You have to come back at them with SOMETHING. And, as a competing studio, you have two choices on how to battle them. With something original or with something in your studio library. If you asked every creative who worked at a studio what they WANTED to do, they’d say make something original. If you asked them what made the most business sense, they’d say go into the studio library. Which is exactly why we get a movie like Men in Black International. Or Godzilla. Or Dark Phoenix (which, yes, is a Marvel movie, but not really).

The irony is that the only reason the Men in Black franchise was an option to bring back in the first place was because it was once an original idea that the studio took a chance on. So if you’re not going to take chances on new properties, you’re not going to have old properties to reboot 20 years from now!

Strangely, the only movies that can compete with Marvel for eyeballs are… Netflix films? I know, right? It may surprise you to know that while 200 million people saw Endgame, 75 million are estimated to have seen Bird Box, a tiny Sandra Bullock movie that cost 20 million bucks (1/20th the estimated budget of Endgame). Why is this? Convenience Convenience Convenience. Netflix is the single most convenient entertainment product in history. There are zero barriers. Consider with Marvel there’s finding a time to go see the film, planning with your friends to be there, driving there, paying, getting food, getting your seats. That may seem like nothing. But compared to clicking a button? It’s everything.

The most recent Netflix entry is Murder Mystery starring Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston. I like Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston a lot. They seem like cool down-to-earth people. And compared to some of Sandler’s other Netflix entries, this one looked pretty good. A comedic take on a whoddunit that takes place on a boat with a group of eccentric characters – that’s a great setup for a movie.

Except it’s a lie.

The murder itself takes place on the boat. But then, the characters inexplicably leave the boat for the remainder of the movie. Let’s unpack this because it gets to the heart of why Sandler struggles to make good movies. The boat is where the tension is. The contained nature of their predicament – of not being able to call for help, of needing to solve the murder themselves, all the while being in danger – is what makes the concept work. So to leave the boat is dramatically devastating.

You can see the effects of this almost immediately. Adam Sandler is resting a lot. He’s putzing around the city. There’s no urgency in his pursuit to solve the murder whatsoever. So why did they do it? I believe there are two reasons, one lazy and one that sort of makes sense. Reason 1 is that Adam Sandler likes to enjoy making movies more than he actually likes to, you know, make them. Being on a cooped-up boat during an entire shoot wasn’t as fun as, say, hanging out in Monaco. By expanding the story to several international locations, he got to have more fun! While I’ll never understand laziness in regards to making movies, the reality is that actors make movies for stupid reasons all the time. We’ve heard stories about actors making movies in Maui because they’d get to party on the beach for two months. About actors who make horse movies cause they want to learn how to ride horses. It just bugs me that major dramatic choices are being made in the name of the actors having fun. We’re the ones who are supposed to have fun – the audience! Not you. You’re supposed to be doing a job.

The less cynical reason is that it makes for a better trailer. If your movie takes place solely on a boat, you’re only going to have shots of a boat. But if you’re shooting all over the planet, your movie looks bigger, and, arguably, has the potential to draw in more people. The net result is a movie that could’ve been good but must settle for decent. At least we get a good screenwriting lesson out of it. Always do what’s best for your story. If that means keeping your murder mystery on a boat, KEEP IT ON THE DAMN BOAT!

All this badmouthing, Carson. There’s got to be something out there I can watch. If you’re talking about movies (and not TV), there isn’t a lot. I think everybody cleared the hell out of Endgame’s tsunami wake, which means only those films which studios pegged as duds were released. So in some ways, you can say this dry spell was planned. But there are a few flicks out there that won’t put you to sleep. The Upside is a film the industry tried to get rid of. It was delayed forever. Kevin Hart was hit with a manufactured-outrage-of-the-week attack right before its release. But the film has amassed an incredible 108 million dollars at the box office. For a non-Oscar pushed drama? That’s unheard of. I mean if that movie would’ve got the same awards push as, say, Roma? It would’ve made 200 million at least. The movie isn’t perfect. But Kevin Hart is good in it and, most importantly, the chemistry between him and Bryan Cranston is strong.

I reviewed the I Am Mother script three years ago and found it to be average. It wasn’t doing anything new enough inside of the contained horror genre to get me excited. So when I threw it on Netflix, I expected to spend fifteen minutes on it and never go back. Half-a-movie later I was still watching. The young actress is good. Hilary Swank is always good. And the most important character in the whole mix – the robot – worked. Something was keeping it from being awesome though and the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if making the drifter a male would’ve been the difference. In stories, you’re always looking for contrast. The more contrast you can create, the bigger the pocket of unresolved conflict you’ll have to play with. The Upside, for example. Bryan Cranston’s character takes his wealth for granted. Kevin Hart is broke. Cranston’s character can’t move. Hart takes his youth and athleticism for granted. There’s so much estrogen in I Am Mother. Imagine if there was a charge of testosterone. It definitely would’ve offset the dynamic in a dangerous but exciting way. Anyway, this movie is worth checking out. One of the stronger Netflix entries for sure.

This next recommendation is going to surprise you. The Lego Movie 2. I actually enjoyed this film! The trailer was all over the place but the whole thing about the city getting destroyed and having to live in a dystopian Mad Max like society was hilarious. For a mainstream movie, the plot is totally bonkers. It doesn’t always work but if you need a two hour prescription of Cheer Up, this is the movie for you. — There are a bunch of movies I still haven’t seen yet that I’ll turn to you for. Cold Pursuit, Isn’t it Romantic, Dragged Across Concrete, High Life, and Booksmart. Thoughts? Are any of them worth the money? Let me know in the comments!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Whilst performing an autopsy, a forensic pathologist suspects the body is from the future on a failed mission to prevent a world catastrophe. He must now decide whether to continue the mission, a task that requires bombing a commercial airliner on a transatlantic flight.
Why You Should Read: Money problems. Custody battles. Drinking on the job. A penchant for violence. 48 Hour Token is a high concept thriller that demands a common but deeply flawed man to prevent a world catastrophe whilst fighting to keep his sanity. To save the world, it’s usually expected you must don the spandex to fight the battle between good and evil. In the real world, the protagonists often come with baggage and the room for failure is non existent. — This isn’t a blind submission. In preparation for this Amateur Offerings, I have utilised several coverage services that most followers of this website would be familiar with. 48 Hour Token has been labelled a ‘well constructed thriller’ with ‘multiple, diverse elements’ whilst containing ‘realistic dialogue for the genre’.
Writer: Branko Maksic
Details: 115 pages

I always like Branko’s insights in the comments section so I’m excited to see what he has in store for us. Let’s check it out…

41 year old Patrick Crawley is an alcoholic pathologist who’s going through a messy divorce. After a particularly nasty argument with his ex-wife, Esmeralda, he goes to determine the cause of death of his latest dead body, only to find a bloated corpse that was discovered in the sea with its face smashed in. Yummy. While poking around, Patrick finds a key for a safe deposit box in the dead dude’s stomach!

Hoping by some miracle this key will lead to cash that will nab him the best lawyer in town (which will allow him to get custody of his daughter), Patrick instead gets a USB drive and two tokens. He plugs the drive into his computer to find a movie file where some woman claiming to be from the future is talking about saving the world from a terrorist attack. Feeling its his civic duty to find out more, he seeks this woman out, but she ends up dead.

Soon after, Patrick is cornered by the Chinese, who administer a toxin that paralyzes his body but not his other senses. Patrick is carried into a hotel room where a woman performs fellatio on him to secure his sperm, and then tells him that if he continues to snoop around, they’re going to kill his daughter and insert the semen into her rectum to make it look like he assaulted and killed her. Not nice people these terrorists.

Patrick ignores this warning for some reason, possibly because he’s beginning to believe that mankind is truly in danger. The Chinese’s plan seems to revolve around having a doctor carry a super-toxin on a flight to America and then letting it free so that everyone in America dies. Somehow, Patrick has to stop that from happening. Unfortunately, he finds out that he was duped and the doctor is a decoy. A separate woman with the real toxin is on a different flight that has already left for America.

Luckily, Patrick gains access to a time machine that allows him to go back in time and try again. And this time he has the help of Past Patrick, allowing the two to divide and conquer. Will they stop the decimation of America in time? Or is this all happening whether they succeed at their plan or not?

(A quick apology to Branko if I missed anything here. The plot was a little hard to follow at times)

This is an interesting one because Branko clearly knows what he’s doing. He knows how to hook us with a dead body teaser. He knows that that’s going to give him time to thoughtfully introduce his characters. His first scene with our lead, Patrick, is packed with conflict, like all good scenes should be. We get to see Patrick at his job, allowing us to grow closer to him. And before we get bored, Branko introduces a mystery – a key inside the body. While we eagerly await that mystery box to be opened, Branko uses the time to develop Patrick even more. We see him interacting with his daughter. We see him talking with his dead dad at the cemetery. If this were a test on writing first acts, Branko would ace it.

Yet something was bothering me and I couldn’t figure out what it was.

Then it hit me.

How you introduce your hero is one of the most important scenes in a script. Some might argue it’s THE most important. The reason for this is that the first scene has a huge impact on how we view that character. Therefore, if we don’t like the hero in that first scene, it doesn’t matter if you ace the first act test. A part of us checked out after that intro. And that’s where the problem was here.

Patrick is introduced as an angry aggressive person. He’s saying a lot of bad things to his ex-wife. He admits to clocking her in the face for cheating on him. While movies are all about exploring character flaws, anger is a tricky one. It’s hard to identify with someone when our first impression of them is pure rage. I mean, think about if you met someone in real life who’s going off on some angry tirade. Would you be like, “Hey dude, what are you doing later? Want to hang out?” Because that’s what you’re asking us to do here. Hang out with Angry Yelling Man for the next two hours. I would never say something’s impossible. But I was never 100% Team Patrick in this script, and I think meeting him this way was why.

But even that wasn’t the whole reason. There was something else bothering me about the first act so I went back and reread it. Eventually, I figured it out. The storytelling was too technical. You could see the writer’s mind at work in each scene. “This is the scene where I set up what he does for a living.” “This is the scene where we show he loves his kid more than anything.” There wasn’t enough flow. It didn’t feel organic enough.

I know Branko is going to kill me for this comparison, but if you read the beginning of Juno, you’re not really aware that a movie is being set up. We feel like we’re organically following this girl around during a particularly disruptive time in her life. I don’t want to confuse Branko by pretending that Juno and 48 Hour Token are anything alike. However, I think he could benefit from a looser more organic storytelling style and not this mathematical dissection of scenes where it’s too obvious what he’s doing. Just because a scene passes the Screenwriting 101 Test doesn’t mean it’s connecting emotionally with the audience.

Despite all this, I still felt the logline teased some juicy ideas, particularly the stuff with the plane, so I was confused when I got to page 35 and we still weren’t on the plane. And then page 45 and we still weren’t on the plane. And then the halfway point passed and we still weren’t on the plane. They keep talking about a plane. Why aren’t we on a plane?

At a certain point, I realized we weren’t getting on that plane, and once I realized that, I had a hard time grasping what kind of movie I was watching. It didn’t seem to fit inside of any known template. Some people will argue that this is a good thing. If a movie isn’t fitting inside a template, it’s original! You’re not going to know what happens next! And while that’s a valid argument, it all depends on if you’re actually enjoying the ride. I wouldn’t say I WASN’T enjoying the ride here. But I was only casually invested.

I suppose if I were to pitch this, I might call it a sci-fi version of Chinatown. And if you’re reading it through that lens, you might enjoy it. But for me I was too often lost in this story. Even though there was a clear goal (stop the world-ending killer virus), the plot points seemed to arrive in a way that was at odds with the plot. Our Chinese super-villains didn’t show up until the midpoint. Our time-travel didn’t get used until the final act. The plane, which is the whole point of the story, doesn’t arrive until the very very end. If you were a fly on my wall while I was reading this, you would’ve repeatedly heard me say, “Earlier.” “Earlier.” “Earlier.” I wanted everything to happen earlier.

Having now read the script, I would advise Branko to take the plane out of the logline. Just make clear that it’s a whodunnit with a sci-fi time travel twist. At least this way, you won’t have anyone going in thinking this is a plane thriller then be disappointed that it’s a traditional sci-fi noir procedural.

Curious to see what others thought. Share your reviews in the comments section!

Script link: 48 Hour Token

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

What I learned: Stay away from “try-hard” descriptions. They always take readers out of the story. When it comes to description, it’s better to be clear than clever. One character here is described as, “Possesses skin so healthy that it radiates its own moral laws.” Another one is described as, “A hummingbird of naked nerve endings.” Neither of these really make sense.

I’m sure it’s frustrating going from screenwriting site to screenwriting site hearing that the ONLY way to break in is if you write “THIS” type of script. Does this sound familiar? “You have to write a biopic.” “You have to write the next Jane Wick.” “Your script has to have a social message.” “Don’t bother typing FADE IN unless you’re writing contained horror.” What if you don’t like those kinds of movies? Are you doomed? Or is there another way?

Oh yes. There’s another way.

I’m going to provide you with a hack that allows you to write about anything you want. And it’s surprisingly simple. What is it? Great characters. If we love or are fascinated by your characters, we won’t care what the movie is about. I’ll give you definitive proof of this. There’s a movie that came out in the 90s starring two nobodies by the names of Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau. The movie was called “Swingers” and it would launch Vince Vaughn’s career as an actor and Favreau’s as a writer-director. But if you revisit Swingers, you’ll notice something strange. The movie has ZERO PLOT. It’s an absolute structural disaster. The characters go to parties, strike out with girls, then go on a Vegas road trip, have some adventures there, then come BACK to Los Angeles, go to more parties, strike out with more girls, then get in a random gun dust-up with gangsters, then play video games, then go to more parties and strike out with more girls.

The editor of this movie nearly quit because Favreau and director Doug Liman couldn’t convince him that the movie had a point. And yet, in spite of this, the movie turned out to be immensely enjoyable. Why? Because the characters were so great. Once a reader falls in love with a character (and preferably, with more than one of your characters), they stop judging the plot. They just want to be around those characters to see what happens to them. This is why you can point out a million plot holes in that movie your friend loves and they don’t care. They love the characters so much that the plot doesn’t matter.

You can use this same power to make readers forget about their biases, forget about the scripts they’re supposed to be looking for for their bosses, and even forget about the almighty dollar, which, in the end, is the ultimate deciding factor on whether to move forward with a project. Why? Because a great character doesn’t need a genre. A great character IS the genre.

So go ahead and write whatever you want IF, and only if, you have killer characters within your story.

How do you write killer characters? I dunno. Just, like, create someone interesting n stuff. I’m just kidding. There are eight character types that have a strong impact on the reader. But before we get to those, I first want to tell you what kind of character to avoid should you write something outside the mainstream. The big character you want nothing to do with is the internal character. This is the character who doesn’t say much, who keeps his thoughts to himself. These characters die on the page. There are ways to make them work, but it’s a lot harder. So if you want to write one of these characters, I’d recommend doing so inside one of the scripts Hollywood’s looking for. John Wick is a good example, actually. John Wick doesn’t say a whole lot. So if you put him in an indie drama, he’ll be boring. He only works because he’s shooting everybody who moves. As for who you do want to include, here are my suggestions…

The Motormouth – The character who says whatever’s on their mind all the time with no filter always pops off the page. We see it with Tony Stark. We see it with Juno. We see it with Clementine in Eternal Sunshine. These characters are not only fun to write, but readers are drawn to them.

The Voice Over Narrator – This is sort of an offshoot of the Motormouth, as narrators will tend to talk a lot as well. But the big reason these characters connect with readers is because we’re getting inside the character’s head, which is something we don’t often get to do in movies. Edward Norton’s character in Fight Club is a good example.

Wild Card Characters – These are characters who you’re never quite sure what they’re going to do next. And you have to write them that way. Where you’re literally getting into the reader’s mind and asking, “What does the reader think my character is going to do in this moment?” And then you make sure that that character never does that. On the villain side of the Wild Card Character, you have Hannibal Lecter. On the hero side, you have Captain Jack Sparrow. And on the comedy side, you have Alan from The Hangover.

The Fearless Character – Audiences LOVE fearless characters because we’re all drawn to bravery. But the great thing about fearless characters is that they charge towards danger and danger is where all the fun is. Meanwhile, fearful characters are hanging back, playing it safe and, therefore, not encountering as many potentially entertaining scenarios. On the blockbuster end for Fearless Characters, we have Ethan Hunt. On the indie end, Eighth Grade. Kayla is trying in every scene to put herself out there, be more brave, and she ends up being one of the most memorable characters of the year for it.

The Liar – Characters who lie a lot spend the majority of their movie inside dramatically ironic situations, which are reading-crack. Dramatically ironic situations are when we know our hero is lying and the other character does not. So we’re constantly wondering if they’re going to get caught. Melissa McCarthy just got an Oscar nomination for this type of character in Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Bats&%t Crazy Characters – Lay it all on the line and just throw a character out there who IS the movie. The crazier and weirder and more bats&%t the character is, the better. This is how Mel Gibson became a movie star (in Lethal Weapon). It is also how Tom Hardy became a movie star. He broke in with the character Bronson in “Bronson.”

Worst Circumstances Best Attitude – One of the most lovable types of characters in existence is the character who’s had a terrible life, who grew up in terrible conditions. Life has thrown nothing but lemons at him. And yet, he keeps charging forward with reckless optimism. These characters work because they remind us that our situations aren’t nearly as bad as we think they are and, no matter what, you can still find the positive in life. The most famous of these characters is, of course, Forrest Gump.

The Racist (or Sexist, or Bigot, or Homophobe) – A lot of people in the screenwriting industry believe that you can’t make your characters too bad. The flip side of that argument is that bad people tend to be the most interesting. The reason these characters really pull a reader in is because we want to see if they’ll be redeemed. There are tons of examples of this character type lighting up the page. Recently, we saw it with Tony Lip in Green Book. Then with Dixon (Sam Rockwell) in Three Billboards. And if you want to go back a ways, Melvin in As Good As It Gets.

You can mix and match these character types as well. You don’t have to pick just one. If you’re looking for a connection between all of them, you’ll notice they’re all either big or active or dealing with some major internal strife. And, of course, there are more character traits out there you can use. These are just eight of the bigger ones I see working time and time again. So if you’re tired of Hollywood telling you what to write, zoom in on a great character and write whatever the heck you want.