There hasn’t been a good art heist screenplay in over a decade. Does The Fugitive screenwriter finally crack the code?

Genre: Action/Adventure/Heist
Premise: A pair of rival art thieves must team up to steal a Leonardo da Vinci painting that nobody knows exists.
About: This is a spec script written by David Twohy. Twohy is probably best known by today’s moviegoers as the writer of Pitch Black. But his most well-known work is, obviously, The Fugitive. Right now, Twohy is currently filming the new Riddick movie with Vin Diesel. If they’re filming the same script that I read, that one will go back to Pitch Black’s roots, keeping things simple (Riddick stalking a group of men on an isolated planet).
Writer: David Twohy
Details: 117 pages – April 16, 2011 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).

I kind of love David Twohy. How can I not. He wrote The Fugitive, the best thriller ever. He also penned one of the great sci-fi screenplays of all time with “Pitch Black.” Not only did it have one of the coolest central characters you’ve ever seen in a sci-fi film, but talk about a midpoint shift! An entire planet turning dark and billions of aliens shooting out of the planet’s core to feed on anything they can find!

Where I’m still smarting, however, is in Twohy’s last effort, The Perfect Getaway. That movie was awesome for about 90 minutes. And then……well, and then…the ending happened. The “big twist.” And oh boy was it not good. It was everything you don’t want your twist to be. Manufactured. Forced. Nonsensical. So while my love for Twohy still remains, I still haven’t gotten over that flick.

But I have good news. Twohy is back! And if The Leonardo Job turns out anything like the script, it’s going to be great.

Steve Styles is a gadget heister. He’s the kind of guy who will build a $50,000 mechanical dragonfly to scout out the room that houses the painting he’s about to steal. And that’s exactly how this movie begins, with Styles deftly using a number of gadgets to get into a museum and steal a 3 million dollar painting.

But as he’s speeding away in a getaway car, he’s unaware that a man on a sled is secretly breaking into his trunk, stealing the very painting he just stole…AT 65 MILES PER HOUR. When Styles figures this out, he knows exactly who’s responsible: Kofax.

Kofax is much older than Styles and doesn’t believe in gadgetry. He believes in good old-fashioned hard work. And this is just one of the many differences between these two rivals – art thieves who hate each other with every bone in their body.

After Kofax steals from the stealer, he learns of a big deal going down in Europe and so he flies there, where he eventually meets Gina, a woman who claims to know about a secret 23rd painting from Leonardo da Vinci. But this isn’t any ordinary painting. It’s a fresco. That means it’s the size of a giant wall. It’s also hidden behind another wall in a museum due to a misguided construction choice 500 hundreds years ago.

Kofax thinks the job is impossible (how do you even get behind a wall in an active museum?) and isn’t convinced that the painting exists anyway. So he’s out. Enter Styles, who’s eager to take on the challenge. But once Kofax realizes Styles is on, he wants back on too, and Gina’s solution is to have them work together.

Of course, since this is a Twohy script, there are lots of twists and turns along the way, and just when you think you know what’s going on, you realize you don’t. There is plenty of jockeying to figure out who here is telling the truth, who’s lying, who you can trust, who you can’t. In the end, someone’s going to end up with this painting – if it indeed exists. The question is…who?

Let’s start off with the obvious. This script is expertly written. This is what a script looks like from a seasoned professional who’s mastered his craft. Let me give you an example.

The movie starts out with an art heist. It’s a reasonably simplistic scene that we’ve seen many times before. It’s well written but nothing special. Yet here’s the difference. Most amateurs would stop there. They’ve written their opening heist scene. They’re done.

What makes Twohy different is that he’s not done. As Styles races away, we cut to somebody on a sled, picking the lock of the trunk. This surgeon of a man is about to lift the painting this guy just lifted. Now THAT’S something I’ve never seen before. In other words, the writer pushes himself to do something different – to do something fresh.

The next awesome choice Twohy makes is in the construction of the heist itself. Whenever you create a heist scenario, it’s imperative that you make the heist look impossible. If it doesn’t look impossible, then we’ll have no doubt our hero can pull it off. And if there’s no doubt, there’s no movie. The doubt is what creates the drama! So the more of it you can produce, the more exciting your movie will be.

Thirdly, Twohy creates a ton of conflict between the two main characters. No, we’re not talking Chris Tucker/Jackie Chan conflict here. Styles and Kofax have tons of history together and absolutely despise one another. They’ve stolen paintings from each other worth millions of dollars. So we have a real conflict and a real distrust between the two. That makes every scene between them fun.

On the flip side, there were a few things I didn’t like. One thing that always bothers me is when a writer starts the movie off with one character, then switches over to another character, who becomes our hero. The reason I don’t like that is because, mentally, I’m always waiting for that first character to come back and lead the story. He was introduced first, so naturally I assumed he was the hero.

So I kept waiting for Styles to reemerge, until, after 25 pages, I realized Kofax was the protagonist. Complicating this is that Kofax is introduced as the bad guy. He’s the one who stole the painting from the guy we liked. It would be like in Raiders, if after Belloq stole the idol Indy just secured from the cave, that we followed Belloq for the next half hour. Do we really want to follow him? Or do we want to follow the guy who stole the idol in the first place?

I admire that Twohy likes to explore the antihero (as he did with Riddick), but it threw me off guard as I wasn’t sure who I was supposed to be rooting for for the first 40 minutes.

Twohy also makes the questionable decision to bring in our villain late. I don’t think he shows up until page 75. This is something I tell writers to avoid if at all possible. Not only does the audience need someone to root against in these kinds of films, but it’s really hard to build up an entire bad guy with just 45 pages left in a screenplay. So I wish Twohy would’ve found a way to get him in earlier.

Still, Twohy is such a great screenwriter that even with these unconventional choices, he finds a way to make it work. And like I always say, you have to do something differently in your script or else it feels cookie-cutter, which can sometimes be worse than writing a straight up bad script. So in the end, this is definitely a script worth celebrating.

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

What I learned: To spice up a predictable scene, add a ticking time bomb. There’s a nifty little scene early in the movie where Styles is chasing Kofax after Kofax stole the painting Styles stole. Styles, in order to catch him, calls the On-star people on a fake police line, telling them that Kofax’s car is stolen. The Onstar people remotely turn Kofax’s car off, inadvertently stopping it in the middle of some train tracks. This allows Styles to confront Kofax, while in the distance, a train approaches. With the painting tucked into the trunk, neither of them will leave until it’s safely secured. – Notice how the ticking time bomb here adds tension to the scene. If Styles had simply run Kofax off the road, hopped out, and demanded the painting, there’s no “ticking time bomb,” there’s no reason to take care of things immediately. It might’ve been an okay scene. But it wouldn’t have been nearly the scene that’s in the script now. So add a ticking time bomb to your scenes to bring them alive (you’ll notice that we had a similar scene in The Fugitive – with Richard Kimble trying to get out of the bus before the train hit).

The screenwriting duo that is The Duplass Brothers follow up Cyrus with their new screenplay about fate.

Genre: Drama-Comedy-Indie
Premise: A thirty-something man who still lives at home unexpectedly bonds with his brother when the two try and find out if his brother’s wife is cheating on him.
About: “Jeff, Who Lives At Home,” is coming to theaters soon. It stars Jason Siegel, Ed Helms, and Susan Sarandon. The screenplay is written by writer-directors Mark and Jay Duplass. Their previous films include Cyrus, Baghead, and The Puffy Chair.
Writers: Mark and Jay Duplass
Details: 87 pages – June 1, 2009 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).

Some people blame the Duplass Brothers for pioneering the horror that is Mumblecore. You know what I’m talking about. Those movies shot on video with available lighting and a handheld camera and characters who improvise. It’s not that the movies are bad so much as they’re terrible. I mean, you’re not supposed to want to throw your TV out the window during a movie, right?

My problem with the Duplass Brothers is that they have a tendency to back away from the moments that define a movie. For example, in Cyrus, I kept waiting for something interesting to happen with Cyrus but it never did. Cyrus was only *sort of* psycho, so you always felt safe, like our hero was going to be okay in the end. And was that movie a comedy? I’m still not sure.

However, I’ll always give the brothers a shot for one reason: Baghead. Baghead was one of the weirder movies I’ve seen. It’s about these four people who head up to a cabin in the middle of the woods and start getting stalked by a man with a bag on his head (we’re unsure, of course, whether the stalker is one of them or someone else). It walks this unpredictable line between humor and horror that I’ve never seen baked up that way before. It’s a film you should check out if you have the chance. But be prepared for something really different or you’ll leave disappointed.

That brings us to “Jeff, Who Lives At Home,” about a guy named Jeff (Jason Siegel) who, well, lives at home. While we’re not clear WHY Jeff lives at home, the implication is that some traumatizing event happened to him as a child which never allowed him to grow up.

When we meet Jeff, he’s sitting around, thinking about how the movie Signs is the best movie ever, mainly because it was about fate and how we all have a purpose. So Jeff starts thinking, what’s his purpose? What signs are out there to guide him through his life?

Right at that moment, Jeff gets a call from someone asking for “Kevin.” There’s no one named Kevin who lives there, but Jeff thinks this is a sign, and rearranges the letters in the name “Kevin” to come up with “knive.” He then goes and checks the silverware drawer, grabs a knife, and finds the word “Delta” carved on the handle. Cut to Kevin in his closet where he finds a group of Delta Airlines playing cards. He throws them against the wall (no, I’m not kidding) and the only card that is face up is the ace of hearts. This is the end of the sequence.

Naturally, at this point, I was thinking about peeling the skin off my body with a potato peeler. But I forced myself to press on. Jeff then goes to pick up something for his mother but since he can’t drive, he takes the bus. On the bus he spots an African-American kid about 18 years old who’s wearing a jacket with the name “Kevin” on his back.

So he follows him to a basketball pickup game and ends up somehow playing. It turns out Jeff’s really awesome at basketball (even though this has nothing to do with the story at all). Afterwards, he and Kevin become quick friends until Kevin robs him. Friendship over.

At this point I was getting so angry at the pointlessness of the story that I wanted to pillage my neighbor’s basement. But I soldiered on. Eventually, Jeff runs into his brother who he has an even worse relationship with than Snooki and The Situation (sorry, I had to get a Jersey Shore reference in there). He and his brother become convinced that his brother’s wife is cheating on him. So they decide to follow her around.

During this time, Jeff shares his new revelation about fate with his brother, who thinks his theories are insane. We’re also intercutting with their mother, who spends the movie in a cubicle at her office, and finds herself the recipient of a secret IM’ing admirer.

Eventually, the three of them come together in the end and encounter an unexpected event that may or may not prove Jeff’s theory about fate.

Where to begin here. The first 25 pages of this script where almost unreadable. I don’t like scripts where no story emerges within the first 25 pages (I don’t like scripts where no story emerges within the first 10 pages!). I want to know where my story is going. We don’t get a whiff of that here so Carson not happy.

But when Jeff’s brother enters the equation, the script takes a turn for the better. Maybe it’s because we were thankful that at least SOME purpose had entered the story, but I thought the conflict between the brothers was actually pretty authentic. As soon as you present a relationship that needs to be repaired to an audience, the obvious response is going to be wanting to see if that relationship can be repaired (which means – most importantly – we want to keep watching!).

As for the cheating stuff…I don’t know. Here was my problem with it. We only get one scene with the brother and his wife that establishes their relationship. And neither of them seemed to like each other. So when the brother becomes devastated by his wife’s cheating, I’m not sure we buy into it. I mean, I barely know these people. Why do I care if his wife is cheating on him?

That’s the problem with an 87 page screenplay. You don’t have enough time to establish the relationship to the point where we care what’s happening with it. And it doesn’t help that you spent the first 30 pages of your script with one of your characters throwing cards at a wall.

I also felt the subplot with the mom was too thin. It basically entailed a secret admirer IM’ing her from inside the office all day. It’s a nice little surprise when we find out who the person is, but the storyline itself was so lightweight that it felt like padding to get the script up to feature length.

The script’s shining light is probably its ending. I like indie movies that go big with their endings and the climax here definitely has some weight to it. I just wish there was more of that weight throughout the rest of the script.

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

What I learned: Flesh out your subplots. Thin subplots feel empty and pointless. To combat this, try to add as much detail and thought to your subplots as you do your main plot. The mother’s storyline here amounts to a woman at a cubicle receiving IMs. I don’t know what the mother does. I don’t know what her company does. It seems like there’s nothing for her to do all day other than answer IMs. That’s not how the real world works (well, for most of us anyway). Build up the details of your subplot world. Give her company a purpose. Maybe she’s a debt collector (would explain why she’s angry all the time). Or maybe she’s a customer support person (again, would explain why she’s so angry – she gets yelled at all day!). Have her boss demand that something be done by the end of day. Now those IMs are interrupting all the calls coming in AS WELL AS a deadline. It’s much more compelling to watch a character make a tough choice (do I answer this IM or keep working?) than freely answer IMs to her heart’s content. Flesh out those subplots people. Add details. Add reality. Or else your subplot is nothing more than a boring distraction.

Awesome screenplay finally arrives in theaters!

 

It’s National Grey Day my friends!  Yes, it is the day where you tell your boss you’re leaving work early to go see The Grey.  If he has a problem with this, give him my e-mail and I’ll have some words with him.  Explain that I’ve been trumpeting the awesomeness of this script for a couple of years now and that movie watchage must occur on opening day.  Explain to him that Liam Neeson cannot be fighting wolves with glass shards strapped to his knuckles and you NOT be there.  It’s simply impossible.  If he’s still giving you a hard time, tell him to go read my review of the script here.  Of course, there’s a strong possibility that he will now want to come with you so only use that as a last resort.

GREY DAY!!!

A million dollar screenplay with a little help from Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: A woman uses her amazing internet skills to stalk and seduce the perfect guy.
About: This script finished Top 10 on the Black List and I believe Top 3 on the Hit List (list of best spec screenplays of the year). This is reportedly Kahn’s first script, but I have serious doubts about that. Nobody writes this efficiently their first time out. Either this is misinformation and they meant it’s the first script she’s gotten notice from, or she’s had help from producers guiding her along (like Diablo Cody did with Juno). Kahn was also Will Ferrell’s old assistant. Some people have told me he gave her notes on the script. Anyway, the script sold last year for a million bucks!
Writer: Lauryn Kahn
Details: 114 pages – August 22nd, 2011 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).

Well here’s a funny story. I’ve been going around telling everybody for the last two months that “He’s Fucking Perfect” is really fucking bad. I’d shout it from the rooftops when I could, only because I didn’t want anyone to waste their time. So it continually confused me when so many people wrote me saying, “Um, Carson, I don’t think this is that bad. I actually liked it a lot.” This led me to believe that everybody in the world was insane. But at a certain point, when, like, the 30th person in a row told me it was a good script, I began to wonder, “Am *I* the one who’s insane?”

So finally, the other day, I picked it up and re-read the first 10 pages. Every reader has bad days when no matter what you put in front of them, they won’t like it. And I was wondering if I had had one of those days.

It took me about two pages to realize….this was a different script! This entire time I was confusing THIS script with ANOTHER script that had the word “Fucking” in the title. Hey, I’m sorry okay? I read a lot of scripts. This sometimes happens. But it would be helpful if everyone and their mom wasn’t putting the word “Fucking” in the title of their screenplay!

Anyway, as I started reading, it became clear to me, this script was EVEN WORSE than the other script I read!

No, I’m kidding. I’m KIDDING. Truth be told I was laughing within the first two pages. And it only got funnier from there. I’m just going to say it: This script is fuckin perfect!

Well, no, that’s not true. But it’s really good. In fact, the read so inspired me, I decided to create an impromptu list of “5 Ways You Know You’re Reading A Great Script.” Here we go!

1 – For the 100 minutes you’re reading the script, writing seems like the easiest thing in the world.

2 – Afterwards, you immediately want to go write a similar script in the same genre.

3 – You’re bummed when it’s over and wonder, “Why can’t every script be this good?”

I actually don’t have a 4 and 5. That’s what happens when you go impromptu. Man, I am not doing this review justice. Maybe now is a good time to get to the plot, no?

29 year old Charlie (Oh no! A female character with a male name in a romantic comedy – maybe this *is* Lauryn’s first time writing a script) is a Google ninja. Her biggest talent is her ability to research guys her friends are dating to determine whether they’re marriage material or not. She’s gotten so good at it, in fact, that women are now coming to her willing to pay for her services.

This culminates in an old bitchy acquaintance of hers asking to look into her new boyfriend, Evan, who seems too good to be true. Charlie does just that and for the first time in history, she doesn’t find a SINGLE thing wrong with the man she’s researching. He’s hot. He’s kind. He climbs mountains. He plays instruments. He volunteers at children’s clubs (he’s even a “Big Brother!”). He’s fucking PERFECT.

So what does Charlie do? Well of course she tells her acquaintance that she found out Even has gonorrhea and then goes after him herself! But not the way normal people go after someone. Charlie learns every single thing about the guy on the internet so that she can become his perfect match!

After stalking his foursquare movements, she “accidentally” bumps into him one day, and because she’s able to play to his every interest, he quickly falls for her.

But what Charlie starts to realize is that dating the perfect guy is HARD WORK. It means that YOU TOO have to be perfect. And since Charlie is anything but perfect (she’s not a vegetarian, she doesn’t play instruments, she doesn’t like culture, she doesn’t want to feed the children in Africa), making this relationship work is taking a LOT of effort.

What’s complicating things even more is that Evan’s best friend seems WAY more like her crowd. I mean, he doesn’t have 8 pack abs and isn’t changing the world, but he likes to smoke pot, he likes to eat meat and he’s generally more…relaxed. Like Charlie! As Charlie tries to navigate these conflicted feelings – being with the man she believes she’s supposed to be with or being with the man she’s actually supposed to be with – her not-so-secret plan begins to unravel, possibly destroying her chances with either of them.

This screenplay was just fucking good. There’s usually one really good comedy script every year and this is the one, without question. I mean, I don’t even know where to begin.

The characters! The characters were great. Besides the main three, we have Betsy, Charlie’s best friend, who may be the dumbest girl you’ve ever met, and yet the funniest. Little quirks like her always messing up popular phrases (“I’m waiting on eggshells.”) were perfect.

Then there’s Doug, the weirdo potential stalker/rapist who Betsy hires to help Charlie stalk Evan. Even though Charlie fires him the first day, he still somehow finds his way to every single event and date that Charlie goes on with Evan.

Lauryn also got the best out of every scene she wrote. This is really what separates the okay comedy writers from the great ones. Every single scene is good. Not every fourth scene. EVERY scene. For example, there’s a scene early on where Charlie prepares to ‘accidentally’ bump into Evan at the bookstore. She spots him, picks up a random book to look busy, and just as planned, he notices her. They start chatting and in order to impress him, she makes up a story about buying the book for her “younger sister” from the “Little Sisters” program. But Charlie hasn’t actually looked at the book yet and when she lifts it up, it’s one of those weird inappropriate fantasy books with naked alien women on the cover. Evan’s weirded out, but she’s able to talk her way out of it AND secure a future date with the hunk. Except Evan suggests they get their little brother and sister together to bring with them. Of course, Charlie doesn’t have a little sister, so she has to go find one for the date. And it’s all hilarious. Every scene here is full of funny situations like this.

One thing I noticed about “He’s Fucking Perfect” is that it had a few “Let’s Get High” scenes (Charlie smokes pot with Evan’s friend) JUST LIKE Two Night Stand from last week. And if you remember, I took that script to task for the lazy choice. Usually, when you have two characters wanting to get high, it means you’ve run out of ideas for your story.

But here’s the difference. In “He’s Fucking Perfect,” the “Let’s get high” scenes are integrated into the characters and plot. The whole point here is that Charlie’s trying to be this “perfect” person in front of Evan. But “getting high” is who she *really is.* It’s a secret she keeps from him. So when she’s given the opportunity to secretly get high with his friend, she’s making a choice steeped in character – go back to who she really is or be this “new person” that she wants to be. The scenes also push forward the relationship between her and Evan’s friend, making them plot-related as well. In other words, the choice to include the “let’s get high” scenes is necessary for the story.

In Two Night Stand, it boiled down to a writer who didn’t have any ideas so he threw in the infamous, “Wanna get high?” scenario.

In the end, what I really loved about this script though was how infectious and fun the writing was. There was no strain here. The words on the page seemed to emerge effortlessly, as if they were coming right out of Lauryn’s mouth.

This is so contrary to what I usually read, where sentences and paragraphs feel heavy – almost *too* constructed. Don’t get me wrong. You want your script and your writing to be polished. But there’s a point where it becomes too perfect and the writing doesn’t feel natural anymore. You want to watch out for that, ESPECIALLY in a comedy, where the writing is supposed to feel loose and fast.

I don’t know what else to say. This script was really good. It might even make my Top 25 after I sit on it for awhile. If you’re a comedy writer, this is the bar. This is what you’re aiming for.

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

What I learned: The other day, Tawnya talked about how theme is the opposite of a character’s flaw. Let’s see that in action here. The theme of this script is a simple one: “Be yourself.” Charlie’s flaw is what? She’s trying to become someone she’s not. There it is. Flaw and theme are the opposite of one another.

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 and fake 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: Comedy
Premise: A print shop owner who moonlights as a counterfeiter finds himself in over his head after a money deal gone wrong.
Writer: Robert Cornero
Details: 142 pages

Amateur Friday has been switched to Amateur Thursday this week!

So today we’re going to do something different. Robert, a longtime reader of Scriptshadow and a really nice guy, e-mailed me to let me know he had finally written a script he was confident enough in to submit to Amateur Friday. There was only one problem, he noted. It violated one of my most hardcore rules. It was 142 pages long.

I told him I couldn’t read it. 142 pages? There was no way. We then had a back and forth discussion/argument on why a script can’t be 140 pages. I argued my side. He argued his (his main point was that his script was dialogue heavy, which takes up a lot of space). And at the end of the discussion, I realized, this is the exact same argument I hear from every screenwriter who writes a long screenplay. So that gave me an idea. I could use this script as a learning tool. I would show writers our argument, and then, assuming I was right, use the review to show why a 140 page script shouldn’t be written. At the same time, I would be open-minded and give the script a fair shot. If Robert proved me wrong, I would happily admit so, and writers everywhere would have new ammunition for their super-sized screenplays. So, here was our e-mail exchange…

MY REPLY

Hey Robert,

I hear you. Dialogue heavy scripts are a little longer, but 142 pages??? I’ll be honest. If that landed on my desk and I didn’t know who you were, I would never read it. That’s not true. I MIGHT read the very first page. If it made me BURST OUT LAUGHING then I’d keep reading. But comedies are supposed to be lean and mean, not bulky, even WITH dialogue (remember, most comedies are dialogue based, so you don’t get much leniency in that area). If you got it down to 110, I’d put it in the mix. The thing is, I’ve only ever read 2 scripts over 130 pages that were good. The Social Network and Brigands Of Rattleborge. That’s 2 in maybe 400. I know you think yours is the exception, but every one of those bad 130+ page scripts also had writers who swore theirs was the exception. So it’s hard to believe anyone when they say that.

Gut that puppy! I know it’s hard but you gotta do it. :)

HIS REPLY

I hear ya. Believe me, I hear ya. It wasn’t a choice I made lightly, and it’s still something I’m concerned about, not for story reasons, but exactly for the kind of length-bias you echoed here – which isn’t to accuse you of being biased. After all, there’s good reason for it – there are a lot of bad writers out there and they tend to multiply their words. But I have to wonder if Hollywood as a whole suffers for its reluctance to read lengthier pieces (or at least automatically equating length with story quality). I mean:

Citizen Kane – 167 pages.
The Shawshank Redemption – 131 pages
Silence of the Lambs – 145 pages
Batman Begins – 150 pages
The Dark Knight – 141 pages
Toy Story 3 – 131 pages
Lord of the Rings – 173 pages
Inglourious Basterds – 166 pages
The Hurt Locker – 131 pages
Inception – 147 pages
City of the Gods (Darabont) – 141 pages
Smoke & Mirrors – 128 pages
Catch Me If You Can – 134 pages

And of course, all established pros, right? They get to do that because they earned it, or so the logic goes. But it seems that lengthier scripts generally turn into better, more timeless movies than their shorter brethren. It’s just a fact of the page; you’re never, ever going to jam as meaningful a story into 90 pages as you would spending 130 pages on the story.

Idk, maybe I’m wrong, but a lean cuisine, microwave friendly script is not going to be as satisfying as a home cooked meal script, meat, potatoes and all. Just because 90-110 is dominant doesn’t mean it’s healthy, or good.

Maybe there’s an article somewhere in that thought there for Scriptshadow.

MY REPLY

Lol, that’s not really fair to list those movies. I could also list you the 398 130+ screenplays that I’ve read which have been terrible. That would multiply exponentially if you included the ones ALL the readers in Hollywood have read…

Ager’s Toothache 159 pages
Prophecy Boy 181 pages
Caramel Is My Favorite – 143 pages
The Barber Ate My Baby – 156 pages
(and on for another 50,000 scripts)

Here’s the thing I ALWAYS see with big scripts. They always show a lack of discipline. They always include more than they should. It’s incredibly rare that I read a long script where the writer ACTUALLY utilizes every single one of those pages. Am I saying yours can’t be that one? No. But I’d probably want to read something of yours that was 100 pages so I could at least see if you could write before I gave you that chance, you know?

But you’re right. It’s reader-bias that’s your biggest problem here. It doesn’t really matter if your script is good or not. If it’s 140 pages (with a comedy no less, which are supposed to come in between 100-110), they’re not giving it a chance.

HIS REPLY

But haven’t you read an equal, if not greater, amount of terrible normal-sized scripts? My point in listing those was to show there’s no direct correlation between length and skill.

I mean, the 90-110 page rule isn’t exactly a hidden secret. Everyone knows it and shoots for it. I’d be willing to wager that the vast majority of terrible scripts out there fall into the 90-110 page category. So the question is, why then don’t “normal” scripts get the same negative reaction?

When it comes to long scripts, if a reader gets a terrible one, it just takes the reader longer to figure out that it’s terrible, and because they’ve spent that much more time on it, they get that much more fed up and end up decrying all long scripts. We live in a microwave culture. We want catharsis immediately. We want gratification and pay off right away. A great example is The Godfather. That script would not get made today. It barely got made in the 70’s and today, it wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance.

Anyway, thanks for the conversation and feedback. It’s given me some things to consider. My hope is that the reader won’t be dismissive when they arrive at page 1.

MY REPLY

The longer scripts are always worse for three reasons. 1) They’re always more unfocused (naturally, since the writers are using the extra pages for the wrong reasons), 2) Instead of only having to endure bad for 100 pages, you have to endure it for 140, which if you read a lot of scripts is the worst! and 3) They steal an extra 30-40 minutes out of your day. Readers live to work on their own writing. When a script steals nearly an extra hour out of their night, they get mad as hell.

Robert, all I can say is that when I was just writing, I thought the EXACT SAME WAY you did. I was making these exact same arguments to people. In fact, most young writers offer these same arguments. It took me being on the other side to realize how wrong I was.

:)

HIS REPLY

And I agree with you, for the most part. I see the value and truth in what you are saying, and what many have said before you. I guess I just wish I could communicate the gravity with which I made that decision to allow it to be long, so that you would understand that page count is not something I take lightly.

Anyway, I’m not going to worry about it. Whether it moves forward or not is largely out of my hands at the moment.

And that’s when I offered to read his script if I could post this discussion. So, it’s time to look at Funny Money and see if it’s worth the 140 pages it takes to tell its story or if it, indeed, could’ve been cut waaaaay down. Let’s begin…

Funny Money follows a 30-something print shop owner named Andrew Piero. Andrew is raising his 11 year old precocious son on his own because his wife died after a very long and expensive battle with cancer.

But we soon learn there’s more going on to Andrew than we thought. He and his 70-something assistant, Hugo, are counterfeiting money in their basement! These guys just print money at will. What they find out, however, is that the Feds might be onto them. The bumbling duo of Agent Charlie and Agent Cynthia have been monitoring them for weeks. They just need that last “smoking gun” piece of evidence to convict them.

Once they realize this, Andy and Hugo decide to make one last giant sum of money and then dump the equipment. This is where the story got a little confusing to me, but I believe they need the help of some special guy who knows the secret ingredient that the U.S. Treasury is adding to all their new bills, in order for their fake money to look/feel authentic. And it just so happens this man operates out of Monte Carlo.

Cut to Europe, where we meet Marie Aubert, a sort of gold digging con woman, the hotter younger female version of Steve Martin in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. This woman sucks men out of all their money then moves on to the next target.

She runs across Andrew and Hugo, as well as Agents Charlie and Cynthia (who are following them) and puts two and two together. These guys are up to no good. Being her con-woman self, she decides to play both sides of the fence, telling the agents she’ll help them for a sum of money and our heroes she’ll help them for a sum of money. In the end, she’ll be able to run off and live happily (and lavishly) ever after. Except complications arise when she starts to have feelings for Andrew. Ahhh, might Marie have finally met her match? Love? And does any of this even matter, with our agents close to finally securing the evidence that they need?

So, we shall ask the age old screenwriting question once again: Is it possible to write a great 140 page script? Or is this proof, once again, that all super-long amateur scripts are going to be wandering messes? Well, I hate to answer this so anti-climactically, but the answer is…I’m not sure. The thing is, Funny Money has some story issues that have nothing to do with page length. And it’s only once we fix those that we can determine how length affects this screenplay. Having said that, there were numerous places I felt could be easily cut.

Let’s start at the top. The opening scene was quite strange. Andrew buys a ham. Another man steals it from him as he walks out the door. Andrew chases him, corners him, and then pays him $375 for the ham back. I believe this was to show that money wasn’t a problem for Andrew, but I was having a hard time accepting the logic of the scene. Why not just go to one of the 800 other butchers in Manhattan and buy another ham for 30 bucks? Or back to the one you just came from? I’m assuming butcher shops keep more than one ham.

But that issue paled in comparison to the big issue I had with the script. What was Andrew’s motivation for needing all this money he was printing up in the first place? He lived a very middling existence. He didn’t have fancy cars or a nice place. Through all of these money-making montages, the implication is that hundreds of thousands of dollars is being made. Where exactly is all this money going if he’s not using it? And if he’s not using it, why does he need it? I’m sure it’s not every day that he gets a ham stolen from him.

Eventually we’re told that Andrew’s wife died from cancer. And her care was expensive. So maybe – though it’s not ever made 100% clear – he’s using the fake money to pay off her medical bills? The problem with this is two-fold. One, we never actually see him PAYING a medical bill. So is the reader supposed to assume he’s doing this off-screen? And two, he’s not printing money out of an HP inkjet printer here. He’s got huge heavy-duty equipment that can print dozens of hundred dollar bills at a time.

I’m not a math-major. But let’s just assume worst-case scenario here. His wife’s cancer cost them 2 million dollars. From the equipment I’ve seen, I’m thinking he could probably print that up within 2-3 weeks tops? Yet it’s implied his wife has been dead for years. So what’s taking so long to print up all this money?

Anyway, after he and Hugo try to print up one last lump sum, I either missed a key plot point or something wasn’t explained well, because I couldn’t figure out exactly why they needed this guy in Europe. I think it was to secure some special ingredient that was being used in all the U.S.’s new money. This was probably the death knell for me because not only did I not understand why our main character printed up so much money that he never used, but I didn’t understand the main goal of the movie – why he’s going to this European man for help. I mean, it’s not like if you print up money without the special ingredient that it won’t be any good. Hundred dollar bills from 10 years ago are worth the same as hundred dollar bills being printed today. So who cares if you print old bills? Due to all this shaky logic, it was hard to give myself to the story.

Once they get to Monte Carlo, Marie approaches Andrew about the agents chasing him and offers to help, but when they go back to the room to get Hugo, he’s gone. At this point I assumed that Hugo was some sort of double agent and had screwed Andrew over, which I thought was sort of a cool idea, as Andrew’s plan couldn’t work without him. But then later we learn that Hugo just LEFT! He left because he got a strange phone call from someone totally unaffiliated with the plot. I can’t appropriately convey my response to this choice. But it was somewhere between utter frustration and complete bafllement. A main character exits the story because of a random phone call??

From this point on, I was just confused as to what the story was about. I guess a new goal was introduced where they needed to get Andrew a passport so he could get back to the U.S. safely (because Hugo had his original passport maybe?). But it seemed like such a strange choice to have this entire story build up what they needed to do in Europe, only to have your character get there and have to come right back. Dramatically, it’s sort of uninteresting. I didn’t love the storyline with the mysterious money-ingredient guy, but at least that storyline held some promise.

As for the length of the screenplay, there were definitely places to cut. There’s an incredibly long scene early on, for instance, where an insignificant character Marie is talking to breaks his finger. It’s something like 3-4 pages of a man talking about how his finger is broken. Those are the easiest cuts to make in a 140 page screenplay.

We have a pointless scene on page 53 where Andy talks about how his feet hurt. Easy cut. Andy doesn’t meet the love interest until page 65!!! He needs to meet her by page 30 (and we should be in Europe by page 20 at the latest – probably earlier). We have this whole random Blackjack storyline with Marie, who is some sort of Blackjack genius and can beat the dealer every time. When I refer to scripts “wandering,” this is what I mean. Blackjack should have nothing to do with this story. It needs to be ditched (Also, if she’s so great at blackjack, why does she need men for money? Why not just win a billion dollars for herself in Vegas?).

Hugo gets a 7 line paragraph description. Unacceptable in a 140 page screenplay. On page 88, characters spend a half a page ordering drinks. Ordering drinks is not interesting and should never be included in your script unless it’s plot related. Just from a general first read, I would’ve been able to chop 20 pages off this guy without a second thought. Then you just have to go in there and do a bunch of minor snips to bring it down to 110.

The thing is, Robert clearly has some talent. The dialogue at times is funny. The idea of a printer who’s secretly a counterfeiter is one with all sorts of potential, but I don’t think this story allows any of that potential to be explored.

I see this kind of script a lot actually. It happens a lot with young writers. There’s some talent on display, but the script reads like it only makes sense to the writer himself, as if he thinks we’re in his head with him. For example, if the point to printing all this money is, indeed, to pay for his wife’s medical bills, that needs to be shown somewhere. We need to know how much money is left on the tab. We need to see him paying the hospital bills. We need to understand HOW much money his machines can print at a time so we understand WHY he hasn’t already printed up enough money to pay the bills. I’m sure all of this is clear in Robert’s head, but unless he shows it to us, we’re left in the dark.

This is all tough love here. Robert’s always been super nice to me. And I take no happiness from digging my claws into this script as deeply as I have. But I’m hoping that, like most everyone who submits for Amateur Friday, these notes end up making the script (and the writer!) better.

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

What I learned: If your script is heavy on dialogue, you need to lose some weight in your description. Dialogue takes up a lot more space than description. So if all that dialogue is pushing you past the 120 page mark, do yourself a favor and thin out ALL YOUR DESCRIPTION LINES to make up for it. You can’t complain that your script is long because of the dialogue, then have a 7 line introduction for one of your characters. I would try and keep EVERYTHING under 2 lines. That’s the sacrifice you have to make if you’re going to have a dialogue heavy script.