I met Mike Le about four years ago either on Done Deal or the Craig’s List personals section. I can’t remember which. He actually watched me come up with the idea for Scriptshadow. We eventually met when he was the vice president over at HQ Pictures. I soon learned that Mike likes to keep his fingers in a lot of pies. As a screenwriter, he wrote TOKYO SUCKERPUNCH (based on the novel by Isaac Adamson) for Fox Searchlight. The project is now at Sony with Tobey Maguire attached to star and produce. He’s currently writing feature projects at Appian Way and Millar Gough Ink. He has a TV pilot with Tapestry Films, wrote the bestselling comic book MAYHEM for Image Comics, was co-executive producer on the reality show FIRST IN for BET and is currently producing K-TOWN. He’s the former assistant to Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson and was the Vice President of the aforementioned HQ Pictures, the production company of Tyrese Gibson.

That’s what led to the idea for today’s interview. Pitching is such a huge part of this business and yet there isn’t a whole lot of information on it out there. Since Mike used to listen to pitches daily as part of his job, I thought, BOOM, he’d be the perfect guy to discuss pitching with. Let’s get into it.

SS: Hey Mike, thanks for doing the interview. 

ML: No worries, Carson. You know I’ve been a fan and supporter of your blog since day one. I remember that day you walked into my office at HQ Pictures and my first thought was, “For a guy with such an ominous moniker like Scriptshadow, he sure is normal looking.”

SS: I think the word you’re looking for is “dashing.” And yes, I had an unfortunate last second wardrobe malfunction that forced me to wear my “normal person’s” clothes that day. It will never happen again. Anyway, because of your producing and screenwriting experience, I thought, “Who better to talk pitching with than Mike Le?”

ML: I’m so ready. Go for it…

SS: All right. To start off, how many pitches have you heard? 

ML: Hundreds. Too many. From writers that ran the spectrum, from established A-listers to unknown amateurs.

SS: And how did those writers get to pitch you? How does anyone get to pitch you?

ML: When I was the VP at HQ Pictures, we had a strict policy of not accepting unsolicited material, much like most of Hollywood. That means we only accepted material and pitches by writers who were repped or came through a personal referral. But I’m a writer myself, and I used to face those same barriers, so I understand how frustrating that is to those trying to break in. It’s very disheartening to slave on a script for months, even years, and then you can’t even find someone who’s willing to read the thing. So I implemented a thing at HQ, a thing called “Free Cheese Day.”

SS: Sounds delicious. Did they get two free toppings with that or did those cost extra? 

ML: Not that kind of cheese, Carson. It was something I borrowed conceptually from THE WEST WING. In that show, President Bartlett allowed one day of the year to grant access to interest groups that don’t usually get the attention of the White House, basically opening their doors to the people. Sorkin based this off of a real thing, when Andrew Jackson left a two ton block of cheese in the White House foyer for anyone to eat. So on Free Cheese Day at my company, I basically lifted our no unsolicited material policy, and me and my assistant and team of 6 script readers opened and read query letters that had been piling up. If we found something we liked, we would call the writer and ask them to talk about the script, basically pitch it over the phone.

SS: Okay now you have me curious. Did you find anything from those? 

ML: Sadly no. There were a couple of strong concepts that hooked me but the executions were poor. I wasn’t as lucky as you to find an undiscovered gem like THE DISCIPLE PROGRAM. Which by the way is not only a great script, but Tyler is a really nice and solid dude. I would kill to find and break a talent like him. Congats on that!

SS: Thanks and yeah, I hope to have some new news on Tyler soon. Here’s my question though – what about getting pitches at other companies? How would one go about that? 

ML: You can’t just walk into a studio and start pitching. You have to be invited to pitch. And to get invited, they (Hollywood) needs to become a fan of your writing first. Take Tyler for example. He’s got a lot of heat right now because everyone in town read his script. They’ve become fans because of THE DISCIPLE PROGRAM, and based off the strength of it, Tyler will get countless invites to pitch.

SS: Hmmm, you can’t just walk into studios and start pitching huh? That explains a LOT. Okay so lets move to the pitches themselves. What do good pitches have in common? What do bad pitches have in common? 

ML: The good ones I can tell what the movie is within the first minute of the pitch. I can clearly understand who the characters are, the conflicts, the goals, etc. If a writer can make me clearly see the movie, that means the writer can clearly see the movie, which indicates the writer has thoroughly worked out the story. The bad ones are just the opposite, they’re rambling, confusing, no sense of story but just a series of situations strung together. They fall apart after a few questions. The good ones get stronger after a few questions.

SS: So you’re constantly questioning people during these pitches? Which means you gotta be able to think on the fly. I assume this is where the newbies fall apart? 

ML: I don’t know if the ability to think on the fly is indicative of a newbie writer versus an experienced writer. Some people just have a natural talent for it, and some people just clam up when questioned. If you have a natural ability to insightfully maneuver through creative questions without sounding like an idiot, than you’re ahead of the game. Execs and producers want to work with writers who love talking about story, who welcome challenging questions, who can defend their vision. Perhaps newbies suffer more from this simply because of a lack of experience. But without every meeting, every pitch, being good in the room gets easier.

SS: These days, it seems like every agent wants a writer who’s “good in a room,” someone who can not only write, but pitch. Why is “being good in a room” so important in Hollywood? 

ML: Because Hollywood is in the business of ideas, and pitching is a dynamic way of sharing and conveying ideas. If you’re great at pitching, that’s a pretty good indication you’re great at engaging people. It’s important to be able to pitch because it’s not just about your script but pitching yourself as a person. Hollywood wants to know if they can work with you or you’re some weirdo that should have never gotten past the studio gates. It’s okay to be a weirdo or eccentric in Hollywood, many are…you just can’t be creepy or come off as a waste of time.

SS: “Don’t be a weirdo.” I’m learning a lot here that I wish I would’ve known earlier. So pitching is also about people skills? 

ML: Very much so. And that’s why a lot of writers, even professionals, are scared to death of pitching. Look, I’m going to generalize here but I’m confident in saying most writers and other creative types are probably introverts. I sure as hell was one. Problem is we live in a society that has a bias towards extroverts and Hollywood is a culture that magnifies that. Movie stars seem like mega-extroverts right because they’re so fearless and colorful on the screen. But when you meet them in person or see them in interviews, they can be awkward and unsure of themselves without a script. That’s because actors are comfortable performing as characters, but are uncomfortable performing as themselves. It’s the same thing with screenwriters, they’re comfortable telling stories through their characters on the page, but uncomfortable performing the story as themselves in a pitch meeting. The journey of the screenwriter is one conundrum after another. Writing requires solitude, solitude breeds introverts, but filmmaking is a collaborative art that requires good people skills and the ability to adapt in high-pressure social situations. You can’t be a successful screenwriter and work in a vacuum, you eventually have to get out and try to win people over. It’s not like novelists who have the luxury of being anti-social. Novelists write their books, mail off their manuscripts and hope someone publishes it and sends back a check without ever having to leave their comfort zone.

SS: You said a lot of professional screenwriters are scared to death of pitching. Can you expand on that? 

ML: It’s popular to quote Malcolm Gladwell these days, especially his theory of “10,000 hours.” In his book OUTLIERS, he says you can only become good at something after doing it over and over again for at least 10,000 hours. It’s more complicated than that because the rest of the book factors in upbringing, access to resources, etc. But for the purpose of our discussion, let’s keep focused on the 10,000 hours theory. Say a screenwriter has put in at least 10,000 hours at writing, and he goes on to sell his first spec script. Boom, his life changes, big trade announcement, everybody in town in wants to meet with him. Next thing he knows, his reps want him pitching ideas and studios want him coming in to give takes on assignments. Here’s the problem, the screenwriter has invested 10,000 plus hours at writing to become a professional screenwriter but has zero experience pitching. So now it’s baptism by fire as he’s forced head first into pitching. The writer has to transform from introvert to extrovert overnight.

SS: Whoa, you’re making this sound terrifying. How the hell do you get 10,000 hours of pitching experience to prepare you for those moments if you’ve never done it before?? 

ML: Here’s the good news: screenwriters love movies, which means they love talking about movies. Every time you’re discussing films with someone, whether it’s with a circle of friends, around the dining table with family, or around the water cooler at work, you have to treat it like a pitch. Boiled down to its essence, a pitch is much like that moment when you come out of the theater after seeing an amazing movie. You bump into a friend in the lobby and you’re bursting with excitement and telling your friend he has to see this movie and you go on to broadly explain what is so exciting about it. If you treat everything like a pitch, then you’re constantly practicing pitching.

SS: So sometimes a studio will buy a script and sometimes they’ll buy a pitch. Why would they buy something that’s not even written yet? I mean, how do they know it’s not going to be terrible? Isn’t that a huge gamble? 

ML: First, everything in this business is a huge gamble. Second, studios never buy pitches from unknown writers.

SS: Never? 

ML: Well, I’m sure historically in the 100 plus years of Hollywood a few unknown writers got lucky and sold an idea. But I couldn’t name them and neither can you. Hollywood needs proof of execution before they buy anything from you. My first studio gig as a writer was adapting the novel TOKYO SUCKERPUNCH for Fox Searchlight, but it was a project that I pitched to them. And the only reason I was allowed in the room to pitch was because Searchlight previously read my spec script NEON JUNKIES. NEON JUNKIES ended up not selling but it got a lot of heat around town and was my proof of execution. You also have to keep in mind that was a few years ago and the market is different now, it’s much more difficult to sell a pitch these days unless you’re Zaillian or Koepp who can pretty much sell anything they sneeze on. So yeah, buying a pitch is a gamble but it’s less of a gamble when you know that writer has a track record of proven execution.

SS: Let’s say I have this AWESOME idea for a movie about snowflakes that come to life and start killing people. I have my first ever meeting with a producer tomorrow and I’m planning to pitch it. What should I expect? At what point am I expected to start pitching? 

ML: I would expect no one would buy your silly idea.

SS: No, you don’t understand. It’s really good and it has this wicked third act twist. I’m not going to give anything away but I will tell you that Santa Clause is involved. 

ML: Okay, I’ll play along… Given your scenario, we have to presume, as I said before, the producer is already a fan of your writing cause you wouldn’t even get in the room otherwise. The best pitches are the most casual ones, where you start off the meeting with small talk with the producer or executive. This is where you engage and connect with them on a personal level. It is so important for writers to think of these people as their peers and treat them as such. Producers would rather work with someone who they feel like they can have a beer with instead of working with someone who is obviously intimidated by them. The good producers don’t want a writer who is too scared to fight for what they believe in. Once you’ve made that personal connection within the first 5 minutes of your meeting, organically slide into your pitch.

SS: Okay now how long am I expected to talk about my story? Two minutes? Five minutes? 

ML: The shorter, the better. I think 5 – 10 minutes is best. One of the best pitches I heard was literally just a few sentences. Writer came in and said, “My script is a FREAKY FRIDAY type of comedy called WEEKEND WARRIOR. It’s about an out of shape football fan who switches bodies with the NFL’s greatest player.” Then suddenly, the door burst open and actors dressed like a football player, a regular guy, a gaggle of cheerleaders, and a marching band poured into my office. The band played a song while the cheerleaders danced around, and the player and regular guy threw a football back and forth. The pitch was less than 3 minutes. Great concept, lively presentation, I couldn’t wait to read the script. I was heartbroken when the script wasn’t good.

SS: So it’s okay to be gimmicky in your pitch then? It’s not looked down upon? 

ML: Execs and producers hear so many pitches that they appreciate anything that makes them more unique and fun. I remember a writer friend who pitched a Christmas movie in a Santa outfit. Can it be too gimmicky? I’m sure there’s a line somewhere that shouldn’t be crossed, but I don’t know where it is.

SS: So what’s the basic approach to the pitch? Do I just hit on the key points (inciting incident, first act turn, character arc, etc.) You’ve heard hundreds of pitches. What usually works best? 

ML: You have to start with the hook aka the concept. Coming up with a new and unique hook that is easily digestible is probably the hardest part of screenwriting.

SS: Why is it so hard? Is it because every idea under the sun has already been done? 

ML: No, that’s a cop-out. We’re fuckin’ writers, our job is to come up with new and unique ideas. I think a reason why it’s hard is because too many writers don’t truly understand what the term “high-concept” means. High concept doesn’t necessarily mean bigger. It doesn’t mean more locations and bigger action scenes. Writers have pitched me these complicated sci-fi ideas that are about parallel universes on top of warring empires on top of alien races set against intergalactic politics. High concept means a broad idea with a strong hook that poses a over-arching “what if” scenario. Like the classic example of LIAR LIAR, what if a lawyer could only tell the truth? Or JURASSIC PARK, what if we were able to clone dinosaurs? Smaller movies can be high concept as well, such as MEMENTO, what if a man suffering from short-term memory had to find his wife’s killer?

SS: And what happens when I’m finished? Do they go, “Yes, I want to buy that. Let’s do it?” Or “No, that’s not for me?” Is there some protocol that’s used? A code I have to learn like In and Out’s secret menu? Like “Sounds cool” is code for “sucky idea?” 

ML: Not every executive or producer is created equal. They all respond differently. Some maintain a poker face even if they’re over the moon about your idea. Some are too excited and give you a false impression of their interest level. Those are the ones where you leave a meeting feeling great about yourself and you’re dreaming of buying that new car until your agent calls to tell you they didn’t bite. Depending on where you are on the writer’s food change, most of them time you’re not pitching to the ultimate decision-maker. So really, the executive you’re pitching to can’t get too excited because they have to re-pitch it to their bosses. So the writer may be asked to come back and pitch a few more times as the idea climbs the ladder. You can tell if they’re interested in your pitch by the questions they ask afterwards.

SS: Like what questions? I need to know the questions! 

ML: If they’re interested, they’ll ask questions that help the writer build on the pitch. Questions like, “What if the protagonist’s original sin was B instead of A?” Or, “Maybe the third act set piece could take place in B instead of A?” Those are questions that show they’re interested enough to help improve. It’s questions like, “What makes your story any different from AVATAR?” that you don’t want.

SS: What if you’re in the middle of a pitch and you can see that the other person is bored out of their mind. What do you do then?? 

ML: The first rule to pitching is that you always have to be in control of the room. I’ll give a personal example, this is a true story: Years ago, I went in to CAA to pitch an agent. I was pitching as a producer cause the agent repped some directors I was hoping to get attached to a pair of projects. So the agent was on the phone as his assistant shuffled me into the office. I sat down on the couch as the agent gestured to me from behind his desk, indicating with his pointed index finger he’d be with me in a minute. As the agent continued talking on the phone, I noticed on his desk were a few empty Starbucks cups. In addition, I saw the agent yawn like three times while on the phone. He finally hung up, then joined me on the couch. He yawned again as he shook my hand, and I registered the low-energy of his body language. Dread slowly seeps in. I jumped into my first pitch and halfway through it, the agent yawned a few more times and his eyes were glazed. He was honestly barely taking in my words. As I continued the pitch, I noticed behind him were two framed photos on a mantle. One was a photo of him and his wife. The other photo was that of an infant. I immediately connected the dots: New born baby, not much sleep, agent’s been caffeinating all day, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and he’s crashing. The worst conditions for me to pitch in.

So I told the agent to stand up. He was startled by my request, stared at me blankly. I stood up, asked him again to get up. Hesitantly, he finally stands up and I tell him I’m going to show him this Vietnamese remedy that will keep him awake for the rest of the day. I backed up against the wall of his office and he did the same on the opposite end of the room. I told him to keep his heels to the wall and lean forward as far as he can without falling. I did so, he followed. Then I told him to take three deep breaths but on the third breath hold it in for 10 seconds. We did exactly that. Next I told him to shake his hands, then clap them together 3 times because that sends electrical pulses through your arms, to your spine, which stimulates the brain. We both clapped our hands three times very loudly. I could see his assistant staring at us through the door. I asked the agent how did he feel? His eyes popped wide open, said he felt great! I told him it’s a trick my mother taught and it never fails. So before the agent could even sit back down, I immediately jumped into my second pitch. This time the agent was fully alert, his shoulders perked, his eyes alive, he focused on my words. By the end of my pitch, he was excited about my projects, said he couldn’t wait to give them to his director clients. So here’s the thing… There is no such Vietnamese remedy. I just made that up on the spot because I had to do something to shake the agent up. I just needed him to stop yawning for five minutes while I pitched. Moral of the story: Always be in control of the room.

SS: Got it. So execs falling asleep during your pitch is not good. Boy I wish I would’ve known that one last week. So what are some of the pitfalls to watch out for when pitching? 

ML: The thing I hate the most is when writers read their pitches to me. One writer had his lengthy pitch written out in 10 pages and had them sitting on his lap. The whole time as he slogged through the pitch, I watched him flip the pages. So instead of being caught up in the story he’s pitching, I was thinking, “Oh my God, he has 8 more pages to go.” It’s okay to have notes or bullet points sitting in front of you when you pitch, but keep it to a page or a few note cards. I mean, these days you can have your notes on an iPad or Kindle. Some writers like to memorize their pitches, which is fine as long as your delivery isn’t rigid and feel too practiced.

SS: What about visuals? Should I and can I bring anything visual to the pitch? 

ML: Visuals are definitely encouraged. Especially if you’re pitching a huge concept that requires a lot of world building, like unique alien landscapes, futuristic technology, otherworldly monsters, supernatural beings, etc. Also, if you’re re-inventing iconic characters you’ll need to clearly convey what you’re going for. For example, everybody knows what THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA looks like, but if you were pitching a steampunk re-imagining of the character, you better have a way to show that. If you’re not a competent artist, hire someone to illustrate the images. It’s a worthwhile investment. And you don’t have to break the bank hiring an experienced artist. I believe here on Scriptshadow you will be offering a service where artists create concept art and such, correct?

SS: Hmmm, no comment on that one. We will have to see! Now pitching isn’t just limited to meetings. You can pitch someone anywhere. In the elevator, in passing, at lunch. It seems like the pitches in these situations are a lot more informal. So how do you approach them? I’m assuming they’re more conversational in nature? 

ML: Every pitch should be conversational in nature. But we have to be careful here. I think amateur writers, and anyone else on the outside looking in, have this romanticized notion on the culture of pitching. They think it’s like Robert Altman’s THE PLAYER where writers can sell an idea if they just get the opportunity to corner a studio exec for 5 minutes pool-side at The Standard Hotel. Yes, these things do happen because it’s Hollywood and anything can happen here (you’re talking to a guy who was discovered working at a Blockbuster by Owen Wilson), but it’s not exactly like the Wild West where roaming writers are ready to be the fastest pitch on the draw at every moment. But if you’re lucky enough to get Bruckheimer’s attention at a party or in the check out lane at Gelson’s, then go ahead and be fearless and pitch. Worst thing is he says no, but at least you’ll get a good story out of it. You should treat every pitch with the same energy, whether it’s over lunch or in the room at a studio.

SS: That’s how you landed the assistant job with Owen Wilson? I have to know more about that. And hey, we can even make it relevant, since you were essentially pitching yourself to him. So, how did that whole thing happen? 

ML: Sure, there’s actually a detailed story of it here.

SS: What was the worst pitch experience you had to endure, both as the pitcher and pitchee? 

ML: I already gave you my worst personal experience giving a pitch. But the worst experience hearing a pitch was from a really established screenwriter. I mean, this guy wrote a hit movie a few years back that held the #1 spot three weeks in a row. So when his manager called me and said he wants to pitch me an idea, of course I was excited. Writer comes in and just goes on to mumble through a 45 minute pitch. I just remember after 20 minutes, the writer said, “And that’s the end of the first act.” I almost fell off my chair.

SS: Okay so before I leave, can you give me like a checklist of the most important things I should have squared away before I go into a pitch? Sort of like a pitch kit? 

ML: Well, the process is different for everyone but to answer broadly: Make sure you have your pitch notes, any visual aid, and a notebook to jot down any questions or comments the exec/producer might have, for they may be helpful as you refine the pitch. Before the pitch meeting, pump yourself up. Whether that means listening to Eminem, gulping down a Red Bull, hitting the gym, or watching Alec Baldwin’s monologue in GLENGARY GLEN ROSS. Make it a ritual. Because if it works for you the first time, it will give a sense of comfort that it can work again, and you’ll have something in your control that improves your pitching skills and gets you in that zone.

SS: Awesome, so as long as I have you here. I have this idea for a movie. Are you ready for this? What if Robin Hood…was actually a woman? Now stay with me here– 

ML: Carson?

SS: Huh? 

ML: I have to go now.

SS: Now is this code?  Are you trying to say something here and I’m supposed to understand the subtext?

ML: Carson, I’m leaving. Good-bye.

SS: Oh, okay, no problem. We’ll talk again I’m sure. Thanks Mike! 

Mike Le is repped at APA and manager Jonathan Hung. You can follow him on his Twitter Feed @DFTVYP.

I have three words for when it comes to this whacked-out screenplay: The Squirrel Scene. Nothing more needs to be said.

Genre: Comedy/Satire
Premise: (from Black List) A satirically dark comedy about a homicidal foreclosure victim kidnapping a real estate agent and planning to kill her in the housing development where she finagled money from customers like him.
About: This script finished tied at the bottom of the 2011 Black List with 6 votes. Del Tredici is repped by WME and managed by Mosaic. He’s written exclusively in TV up to this point, penning episodes of 30 Rock and Bored To Death (among others).
Writer: Luke Del Tredici
Details: 104 pages – 8/21/10 Fifth Draft (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Today’s script is one I’d never heard of before. And why would I have? It doesn’t even have a proper title. Which actually makes sense because when you read it, you realize it doesn’t have a proper anything. This script is about as improper as it gets. Del Tredici is clearly an insane person. I imagine him stalking Liz Lemon in his dreams with a cheese grater. Read this script and you’ll realize that’s not as weird a statement as you think it is.

But here’s the catch. Insanity can be a good thing for writers. With the right amount of focus, insanity can lead to genius! Edgar Allan Poe was insane right? And he came up with some pretty cool stuff. I don’t know if I’m ready to put Del Tredici in the same league as Poe just yet, but I can tell you this: You will not forget this script after you read it. I promise you that.

We’re in Harding, Arizona, June 2007. Harding is one of those upscale communities that investors just decided to build. It didn’t get there after years of growth. They took the Field Of Dreams mentality: “If we build a bunch of McMansions, they will come.” Will they Ray? Will they?

Cassie Francis is a real estate agent in Harding. She’s riding the wave of this booming industry, even owning one of these McMansions herself! Everything’s going swimmingly. That is until the housing market implodes.

Cut to two years later and the community is a ghost town. Nine out of every ten houses have been deserted. Cassie is one of the few remaining stragglers and it doesn’t look like she’ll be able to hold on much longer. She hasn’t sold a house in six months and her boss is coming up with more reasons to fire her than keep her. That’ll end up being the least of her worries though, since when she comes into work, she inadvertently witnesses an adjustable-rate mortgage victim sort of accidentally kill the big cheese.

This once normal but now crazed home-owner, Sonny, has no choice but to do something about the lone witness, so he kidnaps Cassie and brings her back to his home, which happens to be in the same community she lives in.

At first things are light and fluffy. Sonny looks like he’s going to let Cassie go as long as she promises not to tell anybody what she saw. But then his ex-wife shows up, starts pushing his buttons, and he ends up killing her too! Now that Cassie’ been a witness to TWO murders, he realizes he has to get rid of her. In order to make sure nobody’s looking for Cassie though, he decides to go to her house and snatch up her teenage daughter as well.

While that’s going on, Cassie manages to escape, and while Sonny brings her daughter back, she’s able to call the police. The thing is, there’s only one cop in this hellhole. The rest had to be let go when all these rich folks who couldn’t pay their mortgages fled town.

Now Cassie and this one cop must try and find which house she was actually being held in – not an easy task since every single house looks exactly the same! Cassie eventually finds and rescues her daughter, but with a very determined Sonny on their trail, escape is anything but guaranteed.

This script is so damn weird. But weird in a deliriously awesome way!

It all starts with Sonny, who’s one of the most unpredictable villains you’ll ever meet. One second he’s cozy and comforting and telling our heroine that he’s going to let her go. The next he’s a psychotic serial killer having our poor protagonist and her daughter dig their own graves. This dude was like a giant suspense yo-yo, with no rhyme or reason to his actions. And boy did that make him terrifying.

But none of his actions compare to the best scene I’ve read in a script all year. I’m not going to spoil it because you have to read the scene yourself to believe it. I will refer to it only as…The Squirrel Scene. I have never been so terrified of squirrels in my life. This scene has made me reevaluate squirrels as animals. I’m thinking of calling the National Animal Control Center and seeing if there’s a way we can get rid of all squirrels on the planet just because of this scene. It’s such a great scene, in fact, that I think this movie is worth making JUST for this scene. And I realize how ridiculous that sounds but this scene is just so unexpected and so weird and so terrifying that I stand by it.

Outside of that, there’s a nice little statement going on about the housing crisis. While I didn’t personally feel the sting of that implosion, I know people who did. And I just remember how helpless and angry they felt – like they’d been duped and there was nobody out there willing to help them. I remember them having to jump through a million hoops just to get a minor extension and how oftentimes, even when they did everything right, they’d still get screwed. In that sense, Sonny embodies everybody’s frustration. And without getting too deep, there’s a strange part of you that understands him – that understands why he’s gone nutzos. And it’s that subtext that makes this screenplay more than just a silly exercise in weird comedic choices.

I only disliked two things about the script. The first is it felt a little clunky at times. The writing wasn’t as smooth as maybe it could’ve been. And the other was the ex-husband stuff. Cassie has this ex-husband who’s now dating a 24-year-old fluzie who’s quite possibly the dumbest girl in the world. He’s the only person she’s able to contact for help so he has to drive back to save her with his nagging girlfriend tagging along. It’s not a terrible subplot by any means but it just gets old quickly. We keep cutting back to the car, listening to the same argument over and over again (“Why are we doing this?”). I suppose it had potential but I’d rather have stayed back where all the action was.

In the end, I think you gotta admire Del Tredici for taking so many chances. When I read scripts like The Knoll or Selfless, I’m always bummed out by how predictable they are. The writers never take a single chance! They do everything exactly by the book. This script is the opposite. And it’s really original as a result. I challenge anybody to read this script and forget about it. It’s impossible. This one would get people talking if it ever became a movie. Let’s hope that that happens.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: One of the easiest ways to write an original scene is to ask yourself, “What’s the last thing my audience expects this character to do right now?” Everybody knows what the character would *likely* do. We’ve seen enough movies to be able to predict that. So put your thinking cap on and ask what it is they’d *least likely* do. When Sonny kidnaps Cassie, bringing her to his house, we think we know what’s going to happen. He’s going to tie her up and threaten her and blah blah blah. But the writer asks that question, “What’s the last thing the audience expects Sonny to do right now?” Why: Give Cassie a tour of the house of course! So we get this awkward but intriguing scene where Sonny gives his kidnapped captor a tour of his place. Not only is it original, but it creates the added benefit of making our villain seem even scarier. If this guy is so delusional that he’s giving the girl he kidnapped a tour of his place, then how crazy can he be??

Peter Pan mixed with Lord Of The Flies mixed with…zombies? Sounds like an interesting little screenplay. Let’s find out if guest reviewer Amy Suto liked it…

Since I’m tired of giving you guys vague updates about my book, the site re-launch, and Twit-Pitch, I’m putting together an official schedule (with real dates!) that I plan to post this weekend. I’m like the U.S. Government. I’m posting about a post that I’ll make later. Heh heh. In the meantime, I’m bringing back guest reviewer Amy Suto, (who reviewed Celeste and Jesse Forever a month ago) to take on some zombie madness. Or, errr…are they zombies? I’m confused. You know what, I’ll just let Amy clear it up.

Wait a minute. A 2011 Black List comedy that’s actually funny? Can it be? Or has Carson once again misjudged the definition of “comedy?”

Genre: Comedy
Premise: Taking place over one day, a group of couples deal with a myriad of issues while attending a wedding together.
About: This was originally sold as a pitch to CBS films in August of last year. The subsequent script finished at the bottom of the 2011 Black List with six votes.
Writer: Andrew Goldberg
Details: 104 pages, September 14, 2011 (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

I’m ready for the claws to come out. It’s another big comedy script which also happens to be a comedy script that Carson likes. And we all know how those go. Despite some of these scripts being loved by everybody in Hollywood, they seem to be hated by you guys! Which means you’re all wrong! But I do have a streak going with Winter’s Discontent here. Granted it’s a streak of one. But that’s better than the streak I usually have going, which is zero.

Here’s the thing with today’s script though – the idea behind it is pretty genius. An entire movie based around a wedding? I’m not sure that’s ever been done before in a comedy. We’ve seen plenty of movies leading up to weddings. But I’m not sure we’ve had a comedy that’s *just about* the day of the wedding itself. It’s one of those ideas that’s so simple, you wonder why you didn’t come up with it yourself.

Anyway, we start out with Tim and Beth, a married couple in their 30s. Tim is madly in love with his wife but his wife doesn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic. In fact, once at the wedding, when the bride and groom finally say, “I do,” Beth tells Tim, “I don’t,” informing him she’s filing for divorce. A baffled Tim will now spend the rest of the wedding trying to figure out where his marriage went wrong – and why his wife seems to be having so much fun with this mysterious guy he’s never seen before.

Roger and Kate are an interesting ex-couple. They used to go out until Kate found out Roger was having sex with half of America. She subsequently jumped ship and has spent the better part of a year trying to get over him. She’s finally succeeded, finding a guy she really likes, who she’s brought to the wedding. When Roger finds out Kate has officially moved on, he of course ditches his date and focuses exclusively on getting Kate back.

Danny is the class clown/best man. He’s the overweight jokester who’s great for a laugh but not very good with the ladies. He’s shown up here by himself – the way he always rolls – and plans on getting wasted and having a great time with the guys. But when he makes a connection with the wedding singer, a hottie named Larissa, he has to find out if she’s just being nice because this is a wedding or if she really likes him.

Ryan and Caroline have been together for three years and it’s just hit Caroline that he’s never going to propose. When’s the last time you want to go to a wedding? When you learn the guy you’re with never wants to get married. So as she sees all of this love swirling around her, she becomes more and more frustrated, and resolves to do something about it, to Ryan’s horror.

There are plenty of other wedding favorites, like the weirdo uncle who’s constantly saying inappropriate things and staring at young girls. There’s the girl who showed up without a date and has to deal with the all the questions about her ex-boyfriend. And there’s the 17-year-old who’s looking to get deflowered.

I don’t really know what to say about this script other than it’s really good! It’s sort of like “Can’t Hardly Wait” but in wedding form. I love the contained time frame idea. It makes the story so immediate. Everything needs to happen RIGHT NOW so you know all of these unresolved relationships need to get resolved TONIGHT. And that keeps each relationship moving along at a brisk clip. Whenever we cut to someone, they’re usually in the throes of an important moment – something you don’t always get when the time frame for the story is spread out over weeks or months.

And that’s really the key to making these movies work. When you don’t have an overriding concept – in other words, a main character with a goal (find the Ark, prove the one-armed man killed my wife, get to Paradise Falls), the focus shifts over to the unresolved relationships. These will be the engines that carry the story forward.

It’s so important that you understand this because a lot of beginners don’t realize without a big character goal, the story can go south quickly. But if you create a bunch of interesting characters who have big problems, then every time we cut back to them, there’s going to be something interesting going on. We want to know how that conflict is going to get resolved. And that’s another key word here – conflict. Because these relationships are unresolved, there’s always conflict. And conflict is the heart of drama and drama is the key to entertaining.

In other words, if all of these people are happy, you don’t have a movie. So when we cut back to Kate and Roger, we’re wondering, is he going to convince her to be with him again? Or with Tim – Is he going to get his wife back? Or with Caroline – Is she finally going to confront Ryan about their relationship? Or with Jeremy, the 17-year-old – Is he finally going to get laid?!

I’ve read versions of these stories where the writers have no unresolved issues to play with. They then try to fill that void with “funny” dialogue – observations about people at the wedding, or crass sex jokes. The scenes feel desperate, though, because they’re just filling time. When you’ve built real problems and issues that need to be resolved, you don’t need to worry about writing funny dialogue. The dialogue ends up writing itself.

And then there are just a bunch of nice touches to the story. I love this idea that we never see the bride and groom. We only see their backs or flashes of them – never their faces. For once, this is about the people *at* the wedding as opposed to the people getting married. That was really clever.

And easily my favorite character was the creepy uncle. We’ve all seen this guy at our own weddings and boy he is on fire here. He wears sunglasses the whole night so nobody can see his eyes. He laughs at the most inappropriate moments. He calls Danny “Rashad” for some reason and thinks he’s a cop. He’s hilarious.

And the relationships were all well-handled. I particularly liked the Danny and Larissa storyline. I loved how he was built up as the underdog – the loner. And when the wedding singer starts flirting with him, he (and the rest of the guys) have to figure out if she’s just doing it because that’s her job or if she’s doing it because she really likes him. We love Danny so much that we’re on the edge of our seats trying to find out the answer to this question ourselves!

You know, this script came REALLY close to getting an impressive, simply because I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. But much like “Can’t Hardly Wait,” there was just something indefinable missing – an x-factor to really take it over the top. Maybe it was the lack of that big unforgettable character (although the uncle comes close – he was more of a sideshow). Maybe it was the lack of surprises. I’m not sure. But there’s *something* missing here. Still, this was a really good script.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: A goal and a ticking time bomb aren’t as important in stories which take place over a short period of time. The whole point of the character goal is to push the story along. But if the timeframe is contained (24 or 48 hours), the story tends to push itself along. You saw the same thing in movies like “Dazed and Confused” and “Can’t Hardly Wait,” which take place over one day. Likewise, a ticking time bomb doesn’t need to be a dominant part of the plot because the point of a ticking time bomb is to create urgency. If your story takes place inside of a day, the urgency is inherent. That’s not to say you *shouldn’t* use these tools in these situations. Just that they’re not as big of a factor in the story’s success.

Today’s amateur screenplay teaches us that Grandma may not be as cute and cuddly as you think she is.

Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send it in PDF form, along with your title, genre, logline, and why I should read your script to Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Keep in mind your script will be posted in the review (feel free to keep your identity and script title private by providing an alias name and/or title). Also, it’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so that your submission stays near the top of the pile.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: Before he can break up a well-connected ring of terminally ill senior citizen suicide bomber killers for hire, an FBI agent must confront the sweet little old lady sent to kill him.
Writer: Patrick J. Power
Details: 100 pages

I have a soft spot for people who’ve been trying to get their scripts read on the site forever. Especially people who have been so supportive of Scriptshadow. I feel like they deserve to be rewarded. Which is why I chose today’s script. Patrick has been very persistent (yet polite) in his attempts to get his script read so I felt like he deserved a shot.

But before we get to that, I want to point out why I never would’ve read it otherwise. The premise feels goofy to me – one of those premises where you’re not sure if it’s a thriller or a comedy. And while that’s fine if it turns out to be a comedy, it’s not fine if it turns out to be a thriller. Old people suicide bombers? I don’t know. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. Am I off base with that?

But hey, once I pop open a script, I’m MORE than ready to be proven wrong. Every script deserves a fair shot and believe me, I wanted nothing more than to love this.

Paul Lucas is a San Diego FBI agent hanging out at the federal building, preparing to watch a Colombian drug lord walk free. Then, while the lawyer makes an official statement for his client, a large blast blows both of them to pieces. When the FBI takes a later look at the security footage, they see a little old lady named Juliet Ivy standing next to the duo. Hmmmm. I knew old people were gassy but this is too much.

After 15 more characters are introduced inside roughly 7 pages, Paul decides to take a closer look at the little old lady. He heads over to her son’s home and learns that Juliet had cancer and belonged to an upscale hospice known as “The Healthful Healing Medical Center.” Paul speeds over there and meets the suspicious manager, who confirms that Juliet had a one million dollar life insurance policy. Paul rightly wonders how an 85-year-old woman secures a one million dollar life insurance policy.

Off in another part of the city, someone on a gondola blows up another few people and when they look into it, they find that that too was done by a senior citizen. As if allowing these people behind the wheel wasn’t enough! So now Paul realizes they’re dealing with organized attacks. But where are these attacks being ordered from and why??

Eventually, Paul finds out that it all goes back to that Healthful Healing place. So he finds an old retired FBI agent, Norman, who has cancer (I think – he might’ve been faking – I’m still not sure) and sends him in undercover to find out exactly what’s going on.

The focus of the story then shifts over to Norman, who realizes that one of the women at the center, Mary Margaret, has been there for a long time. In a place where people go to die, this stands out as a red flag. Indeed, Mary Margaret turns out to be the leader of this crime syndicate, sending old people out there to blow pre-determined targets up. I have to admit that I never figured out what her scheme was, but it seemed very important to Mary Margaret. And I suppose that’s all that matters.

Patrick and I have an interesting relationship. He used to write me all the time with these nice e-mails pointing out plot synopsis mistakes I’d made in my reviews. If I said that the aunt slept with Larry, he would send me an e-mail explaining that, no, it was actually the ex-wife that slept with Larry. Over time, however, he became less cordial, and just started sending messages like: “Not Don. Joe!”

I bring this up because I’m sure I screwed up at least some of the synopsis here. But in my defense, there were like 35 characters in this script. Which is actually a great place to start. I’m kind of shocked. For someone I know reads the site all the time, why would they make the one mistake I rail against the most – insane character counts. ESPECIALLY on Amateur Friday! Instead of going on a thousand word rant about this issue like I usually do, I’ll just say that the insane character count made it impossible for me to keep track of everyone and everything that was going on.

But that issue pales in comparison to my main critique of the screenplay. And this is the part of my job I hate the most because it’s the most painful critique you can give a writer: The concept here simply doesn’t work.

It’s too goofy. You’re talking about old people suicide bombers. There isn’t a story you can wrap around that idea that doesn’t feel silly. I could never get past that while reading the script.

But even if the concept were squared away, there were still too many wonky choices in this screenplay. For example, you have Norman, who jumps into the script at the midpoint. We’ve barely met the guy, yet all of a sudden he’s thrust into, basically, the protagonist role of the story. That’s just a strange thing to ask the reader to roll with. You’re following one hero. Then midway through the story, you say, “Let’s go follow this other guy instead.”

And then you have the strange choice of giving Paul terminal cancer. That was the official point where I realized the train had gone off the tracks. You have a story based on a bunch of old people who have terminal cancer, then you also give your main younger character terminal cancer as well?? It’s just such a bizarre coincidental choice that calls into question the entire story.

Finally, I’m not sure what that climax had to do with anything. There were a few mentions of this boat called “Code Blue” over the course of the script. Since that was also the title of the movie, I tabbed it as important. But it didn’t play into the story until this final scene when, for some reason, everybody went out on the Code Blue for a big showdown. I just didn’t understand what was going on. And I’m still not sure what Mary and her group were ultimately trying to achieve.

I know how obsessed Patrick is with attention to detail so I’m sure he could lay out for me, in a specific line by line breakdown, all of the places in the script where this stuff was explained. But when you’re reading a script, it doesn’t work like that. Once you start losing confidence in the story, it becomes harder and harder to stay invested in it. I didn’t believe in the concept. The never-ending character count had me forgetting who was who. And the switch to a different story and different main character halfway in had me scrambling to muster up the energy just to finish the script, much less make sense of it.

I know how long Patrick’s been trying to get me to read this, so it sucks I didn’t fall in love with it. But I do think a good lesson can come of it. This script needs to be retired and Patrick needs to move on to a snazzier concept, something more believable, less silly, and that readers can really sink their teeth into. All of the problems in this screenplay come back to a writer trying to make a concept work that can’t work. I would love to see Patrick tackle something that has a chance from the beginning. And I’d also love to hear your thoughts about this premise. Am I right? Does it feel like a bad joke? Or am I way off base and this concept actually has potential? Believe me, I’d be more than happy to be proven wrong because I HATE telling writers to scrap an idea they’ve labored months over and start something else.

Script link: Code Blue

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. The number one way to kill your chances of getting a script read is a bad premise. I hear writers say it all the time: “Nobody will read my script.” Trust me, if you have a great premise, PEOPLE WILL WANT TO READ YOUR SCRIPT!!! I GUARANTEE IT! I WILL BE ONE OF THEM! If you’re not getting that excited response when you send your idea out, take a second look at the idea itself. It’s probably the reason.