Genre: TBD
Premise: After being falsely accused of murdering his business partner, a tech titan creates a humanoid version of himself to serve out his sentence to disastrous results.
About: This script finished with 7 votes on last year’s Black List.
Writer: Matt Fisch
Details: 99 pages
Today I felt like laughing. That’s the great thing about script-reading. Whatever you’re in the mood for, there’s a genre for it. It was a fun Monday. I had a nice dinner. I was ready to laugh. And so it was that I came across this logline on the Black List: “When bio-tech titan Van Danzen is falsely convicted of murdering his business partner, he sends his greatest creation – a spitting-image humanoid robot – to serve a life sentence in his place. However, the humanoid’s militarized programming sends him on a rampage to escape prison and hunt those responsible for his creator’s set-up and imprisonment.”
Does that not sound like a comedy to you? The main character’s name is “Van Danzen.” He’s created a spitting image humanoid robot of himself who he sends to prison. How is that not a comedy? Well, after reading the first twenty pages of Inhuman Nature and not laughing once, I realized that I was actually reading an action script, an action script about a human replica of a billionaire named Van Danzen that was taking itself seriously.
I suppose there was a time, many moons ago, when people would pay for a premise that didn’t make sense. Let us not forget that they made a movie called “Face Off” where people actually bought into the premise that Nicholas Cage and John Travolta had their faces switched. So I guess anything’s possible. But can this bizarre Face-Off meets The Terminator hybrid pull off a similar feat? Grab your humanoid replica and let’s the three of us find out together…
Van Danzen is serving 30 years for killing his business partner. The tech billionaire is escorted into a maximum security prison where he mad-dogs all of the prisoners he passes. But then we cut to a car outside the prison where inside we see… Van Danzen?? Yes, this is the real Van Danzen. The one in the prison is a humanoid replica that Van built to serve his sentence. Meanwhile, Real Van is taking his girlfriend who never talks, Quinn, and sneaking out of the country where he’s going to hide out and live the island life for the next 30 years.
Van’s plan is thrown into disarray, however, when Humanoid Van Danzen snaps and starts killing prison guards! He then marches out of the prison, avoids sniper fire, and goes on a revenge tour to take down the people who put him in prison. Even though it’s not… really… him… who was betrayed? First is the prosecutor, then the judge, and soon it’s an FBI agent, who just so happens to be working with the real Van, who’s currently in Canada (he escaped there by taking an underground tunnel).
The real target of Humanoid Van Danzen, however, is the president of the United States! Yeah. And what we learn is that the president is also a humanoid that Van created. And the president is responsible for killing Van’s partner to set Van up, who, incidentally, was also a humanoid. As was Van’s girlfriend, Quinn. Yup, also a humanoid. Van and the FBI agent must avoid a determined Humanoid Van, then stop him from killing the president of the United States or else… I don’t know. Maybe we all become humanoids.
I’m going to give you a peak behind the curtain as to certain red flags readers spot early that lessen their confidence in a screenplay.
The first is a billionaire protagonist. In a comedy, billionaires are great because you can play around with that extreme to create a lot of jokes. Brewster’s Millions comes to mind. But in any other genre, it’s a lazy device. It basically allows you, the writer, to do anything you want without much effort. Normally, creating the first artificially intelligent human replica would require hundreds of the best scientists and mathematicians and computer experts in the world. It would be a massive undertaking. Instead of having to explain how all that came together, a writer can just say, “Eh, he’s a billionaire so he’d figure it out.”
I know, I know. Iron Man is a billionaire. He’s the most popular character ever. But Iron Man is actually the reason this lazy device has made its way into so many stories. Back when Iron Man was created, that became a trendy story choice. Make your comic book hero really rich. And it worked because it was new and fresh. It’s no longer new or fresh.
Secondly, I saw this line on the first page: “The only car in the lot is a CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY PATROL Dodge Charger, decked out in white and black, an emperor penguin on wheels.”
There’s zero reason to include a try-hard visual description of an object every single person on the planet knows. Whenever I see this, I get worried because I know the writer is focusing on the wrong things. Giving a visual description of, say, someone’s apartment makes sense because everybody’s apartment is different. You can tell a lot about a person from how their apartment is decorated. If it’s clean or not. If it’s small or large. If the furniture is cheap or expensive. So if you want to use some fun visual descriptions, save them for moments like this. I know this seems like a small thing to criticize. But in the thousands of scripts that I’ve read, it is my experience that when I see this early on, it’s usually bad news going forward.
Finally, there were lots of exposition-heavy long monologues early on. Monologues are fine. A lot of movies begin with characters explaining things in voice over. Scorsese movies for example. But to spend huge chunk of dialogue after huge chunk of dialogue having reporters explain in excruciating detail that our character is a murderer and lost his court case and what is his life going to be like now that he’s in prison? Seasoned writers don’t do that. They know exposition is the screenwriting devil. They will sell an organ on ebay if it means they can cut a 10 line chunk of expository dialogue down to 6 lines.
All that stuff combined with the fact that this script sounded like a comedy and it wasn’t led me into the next 70 pages skeptical that it was going to be able to turn things around. So it wasn’t surprising when it didn’t. I didn’t even know what the movie was about for another 30 pages. I wasn’t clear who the main character was. You’d think it was Van. But he was so passive and wimpy. It was Humanoid Van who was the active one. He’s out there killing people and, eventually, as we learn, trying to kill the president. But he has zero personality. So we can’t really follow him as the protagonist. This created a sort of “hero limbo” where we were desperately looking for a strong character with a strong goal to follow. That never came.
I know there’s a commenter here who swears that a Black List script has never been written that is worse than an amateur script. He might want to read this script and reevaluate that stance. I’ll take that a step further. If you had handed me this script and Friday’s amateur script and I’d never heard of either, and you told me to read both and bet my life on which one made the Black List, I would’ve said Chris’s Amateur Friday script in a heartbeat. That script had problems but at least it had a voice. It had some vision. This feels like an entry in a UCLA screenwriting classroom contest. I don’t know how it got on the Black List.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Beware “set the table” dialogue. This is when you want a character to say something for the audience’s sake. So you have another character ask them the perfect question that allows them to do so. For example, if you need the audience to know that the president is bad, a “set the table” scenario might look like this.
John: But why wouldn’t the president listen to us?
Mary: The president was compromised back in Philadelphia when the Chinese operatives injected him with the complacency diode. We can’t trust him anymore.
You can sometimes get away with this if it’s one question and one answer. But if you have scenes where you’re trying to get a lot of information out to the audience and you’re doing this over and over again, it doesn’t sound like a natural conversation at all.
Genre: Action
Premise: John Wick is being hunted by every single assassin in the world. And John Wick on a horse.
About: John Wick didn’t just kill the 200 characters who came at him in Parabellum. He killed Avengers Endgame, dethroning the box office behemoth with a 57 million dollar opening, almost twice that of John Wick 2’s opening box office weekend.
Writers: Derek Kolstad and Shay Hatten and Chris Collins & Marc Abrams
Details: 130 minutes
I have to be careful with today’s review.
The John Wick franchise is one of the best underdog stories in cinema history. The first John Wick script was laughed at by Hollywood. It was about a retired assassin who went on a killing rampage because of a dog. It starred an over-the-hill former movie star who was in the process of joining Bruce Willis and Nicholas Cage in the direct-to-digital doldrums. The movie, a likely candidate for direct-to-digital itself, needed to have literally every single critic who saw it say it was awesome to get publicity. And even when the first film did well, it didn’t do well enough for a studio to think it was worthy of a wide-release sequel. Still, Lionsgate took a chance on a bigger sequel, and the box office results legitimized the franchise, ensuring that more sequels would be in the works. John Wick is the little engine that could. And a wonderful reminder that there are still popular projects that can be birthed from screenwriters’ imaginations.
With that said, here’s my beef. John Wick started out so good, I thought I was in the process of watching a classic. But then each fight scene became less interesting than the previous one, when it should’ve been the other way around.
If you haven’t seen the film, it continues where the last one left off. John Wick has killed an assassin inside the sacred confines of The Continental hotel, a huge no-no. It’s such a no-no, in fact, that John Wick becomes the number one bounty in the world, at 14 million dollars. Since it’s rare for a head to pay that much, every single assassin on the planet will be after him. I want you to remember that for later, as it’s a pivotal area the movie could’ve improved in.
Priority number 1 for John Wick is to get out of New York City, which isn’t easy. But he eventually gains passage to Casablanca of all places, where he reunites with an old assassin friend (Halle Berry and her dogs) and tries to convince some dude high up on this bonkers Wickian mythology ladder to get this price off his head. The guy tells him he’s got to meet some other guy who literally lives in the middle of the desert, who tells him if he wants this, he has to kill the head of the Continental, sending him right back to where he started. It’s here where Wick takes on a late-arriving villain who’s been dreaming his whole life of killing John Wick. Is it finally the end for the king of the double-tap?
Okay so look. John Wick has always been about two things. Wacky assassin mythology and fight choreography porn. You could legitimately argue that these are the only two things that exist in the franchise. However, you would also have to point out that it does both of them really well. The mythology, in particular, is so weird, that you can’t help but bask in it. I love these tatted up bounty order-taking nurses. I love how there are a dozen different sacred coins, all of which mean something unique to this assassin community. I love how every tenth person on the planet is an assassin waiting for John Wick to walk past them so he can start following him. I love the way-too-dramatic look on everybody’s faces when an order is called in to “deconsecrates” the Continental. I love that they gave the movie a title that three people in the world knew the definition of.
I absolutely loved John Wick killing a 7 foot man with a book, unofficially making the 300 year old author an accomplice. I loved John Wick using stable horses to kill assassins. I loved the “hallway of knives” fight. I even loved the motorcycle sword set piece, despite the fact that it felt like something we’ve seen before.
However, I didn’t like any of the fight scenes after that. I thought Halle Berry’s character was annoying – a classic case of a secondary character hating the main character for no other reason than to create conflict, not cause there was any actual organic reason. All of the dog choreography felt overtly staged, taking me out of the movie. And how many faceless bad guys does John Wick have to kill in a scene before it starts getting tiresome? The answer is 10. The movie thought the answer was 50.
Then Halle Berry just disappears, never to be heard from again. If they’re going to try that hard to spin off a new character, they might as well have admitted it. “I’ll see you again if the internet response is positive,” Berry should’ve left Wick with. Then Wick walks in a desert for no other reason than it looks cool to have a sharply dressed Keanu Reeves walk in a desert. This is where I started to lose faith in the film.
But what really bummed me out was that they went with beauty over ingenuity for the film’s climax. Having Wick fight three guys who I only found out afterwards were big action stars from another film in this glowing neon glass room that had zero reason to exist other than that it looked good on camera was disappointing. The whole reason I loved the library scene and the horse stable scene and the knife hallway scene is that Wick could use the unique environment to give us action scenarios we hadn’t seen before. The neon glass castle didn’t have any of that. And I suppose they could argue that they wanted the focus to be on the fight, not the gimmicky surroundings. But I didn’t have any idea who these rando guys were. And by that point, we’d seen John Wick punch and kick so many people, that any fight he was in now was going to look redundant.
The great thing about that library scene was how unique the opponent was. I figured, when they said that every assassin in the world was going to be after him, that we were going to get a couple of dozen unique characters like that, all of whom had different talents and fighting skills. Instead, they brought in every top Asian stunt man in the business and used them for Wick’s adversaries. I can’t figure out for the life of me why they didn’t give us more variety. I thought maybe they were saving the adjudicator (a tall short-haired woman) for a battle, which would’ve been cool. But nope. Nearly every bad guy he faced was similar.
And yet, I can’t get too mad at John Wick. If you love pure action, I don’t see how you can not love this movie. It’s only a tough watch for those who watch way too many movies like myself and who wouldn’t mind a little extra character development so we care more. Oh, and I love the fact that director Chad Stahelski and Keanu Reeves want to keep making John Wick movies til they die. I think that’s hilarious. In a world where snobby actors on hit shows and franchises are always ungratefully begging to get out of their contracts, it’s good to finally see two people who are like, “Nope, we’re good. We have no intention of stopping.”
But Reeves and Stahelski will have to watch out. If they get even a little bit lazy, this franchise could fall apart. Bring us whatever inspired the first half of John Wick 3 for future installments and I’ll happily make another reservation at the Continental.
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: A common screenwriting mistake is to get hung up on what you’re going to do in a scene and not be open to better ideas. John Wick 3 made a crucial mistake in one of its early scenes. John must go to an underground doctor to get a shoulder wound sewed up. The problem is, he’s only got 5 minutes before the bounty begins. The writers choose to use the scene to set up some plot. The doctor, an older Asian man, isn’t allowed to work on John once the bounty begins. So it’s a race against time to sew him up. Afterwards, they discuss what his plan is, which sets up the next sequence. — What they should’ve done instead is have the doctor work on him, giving John everything he’s got, cutting back and forth from the clock, time ticking down, time ticking down, time ticking down, and then, the SECOND we hit the top of the hour, the doctor should’ve switched from helper to killer, grabbing available weapons (which would’ve been fun in a doctor’s office) and trying to kill John to get the bounty. I think they were so locked in on making this an exposition scene that they didn’t see an obvious awesome scenario.
Genre: Drama/Period
Premise: In Prohibition-era Kentucky, a moonshiner’s plan to save the family farm goes awry when his brother steals a prized dog from a local mobster.
Why You Should Read: Heck is an inventive retelling of Homer’s Trojan War epic. Instead of Trojans vs. the Greeks, my story takes place in 1920s Kentucky, pitting a family of moonshiners against a local crime boss and his Prohibition Agent brother. Part O Brother Where Art Thou and part Lawless, it’s an epic tale of bootlegging, boxing, and of course, a giant Trojan horse.
Writer: Chris Hicks
Details: 109 pages
I am going to propose the impossible.
The irrational.
The sensational!
I don’t know if you guys are even ready for what I’m about to say.
A moment of silence…………
Okay. Here it is. Is “Heck,” A John Wick prequel?
I know it sounds ridiculous. But let’s look at the author’s name. “Chris Hicks.” Hmmmmm… Hicks? Wicks? Hick? Wick? Notice any similarities?
What am I babbling on about?
Well, you see, both of these movies rely heavily on a dog. You could say both rely heavily on an outrageous dog plotline. Somehow, John Wick made its dog storyline work. Did Heck? Let’s find out together!
It’s Prohibition. No alcohol and all that. Heck makes the best moonshine in Kentucky. Not easy when you consider what’s happened to his family. His mom just died. His dad’s got a permanent broken heart. And his little brother, Perry, is a bit of a weirdo. Oh, and they’re four mortgage payments behind with the bank. They need to start making money fast.
Heck goes to the biggest client he can find, Matthias, a boxing manager and secret bar owner. Matthias wants to buy thousands of bottles of Moonshine from Heck. However, right after they strike a deal, Perry secretly steals Matthias’s cute little puppy. Why? Because he thinks it’s cute!
As soon as they get home, Heck has a fit. What are you doing stealing people’s dogs for?? He demands that Perry give it back. But Perry says no. Fine, Heck says. Wow, that was easy. It doesn’t take long for Matthias to find out his dog has been stolen, so he comes to Heck’s farm and demands it back. They say no. Furious, Matthias teams up with the dirty G-Man, Augie, to take Heck down any way possible. Oh, and if it wasn’t obvious, the deal is off.
This forces Heck to strike a deal with Apollo, a guy who runs an underground bar in the next county. Like, literally. They deliver the moonshine to this guy in underground caves. Unfortunately, Augie and Matthias round up a mob to ambush Apollo’s place and a lot of people are beat to a pulp.
Heck realizes that the only way he’s going to square this situation is to fight Matthias’s best boxer. While Heck ain’t too shabby in a ring, he’s no match for Beast Mode Gideon, Matthias’s guy. Gideon beats Heck to a pulp. It looks like Heck is going to lose the farm and go to prison. It will be up to Perry, who started all this, to come up with a plan to save his brother.
A couple of things I want to say right off the bat. I haven’t read “Homer” since high school. So I have no memory of what it’s about. And I don’t think it’s the best idea to write a script like O Brother Where Art Thou on spec. O Brother is 75% direction and 25% script. It’s too hard to convey semi-humorous offbeat tones on the page. It’s difficult for the reader to know just how funny something was meant to be and just how serious other things were meant to be. This is why these scripts are almost always a package deal with the writer and director being the same.
With that out of the way, how was this?
Heck was really well written. We can start there. Regardless of what you think of this script, it’s the embodiment of professional and easy to read. This isn’t even my jam and, still, my eyes were flying down the page.
However, the second the dog thing happened, my brain left my body. I felt suspended in confusion. Your brother steals a dog of the man who’s going to help you save your farm. And when said brother says he wants to keep it, you let him? How does that make sense?
Somebody might throw this back in my face if it’s a direct plotline from Homer. But even if it is, one of my pillars of screenwriting no-no’s is to NEVER HAVE shaky inciting incidents. The inciting incident is the entire reason the movie exists. So if it’s weak or murky or nonsensical, you’re building your story on a shaky foundation. Not to mention, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a inciting incident that was initiated BY our heroes. Inciting incidents are supposed to happen TO our heroes.
How this directly relates to this script is that a lot of people, like me, are going to say, throughout the movie, “Why don’t you just give the dog back?” It solves every problem. Or, if they’re not going to give the dog back, provide us with a convincing reason WHY they wouldn’t give it back. That explanation definitely never came in “Heck.”
Maybe Chris’s counter-argument would be that it’s supposed to be funny. And that’s my point about quirky humor. We’re not sure how much leniency on plot issues we’re supposed to allow because of humor. Am I just supposed to laugh at the glaring plot hole and go with it? Sorry but I can’t.
With all that said, the dialogue here is good. The structure is top-notch. The characters all have big personalities and therefore pop off the page. So it’s not like Heck doesn’t have anything going for it. But when you plop me down 100 years ago, you’re already at a disadvantage. It’s so not my jam. Therefore, I never quite saw this as anything other than a curiosity. I was interested but I was never invested. So as strong as the writing was, I can’t give it that ‘worth the read.’ I will say that the writer is worth keeping an eye on though. If Chris has got any other scripts set in present day that are more marketable, submit them to Amateur Offerings.
Oh, and one last thing. If Chris is doing a rewrite, I think it would be funny to give Apollo a dog and have Perry steal him too. I’m joking of course. But that would be funny.
Script Link: Heck
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Something every writer should take into consideration when they’re deciding what to write next is: Is this the kind of movie that excites people? Both the kind of people you need to get the movie made and the people who buy the tickets. Because I read a lot of scripts like this one, where I nod my head afterwards and say, “good job.” But the script doesn’t get me excited enough to tell other people about it.
What I learned 2: A fun easy way to spice up dialogue is to use role play. No, not that role play. You create a fun moment where the characters can address each other as something other than themselves. Remember that characters talking directly to each other about what’s in their head is the definition of on-the-nose dialogue. So you should always look for ways to play with the dialogue instead. This is one of the easiest ways.
I have not been watching Game of Thrones like the rest of the universe. However, I’ve been paying close attention to reactions from the final season, since Game of Thrones creators Benioff and Weiss will be taking over my beloved Star Wars going forward. What everyone seems to be so upset about is that one of the main characters, Daenerys, made a major turn in the last episode that goes completely against her character. Staying with Star Wars, a certain other director who shall remain nameless (his name rhymes with Sighin’ Cronsohn) made a similar mistake in The Last Jedi, where he had the beloved Luke Skywalker act in a way he never would.
All of this got me thinking about one of the oldest questions in writing. Why are endings so hard?? Here’s how I see it. In a well-told story, everything is leading up to a clear resolution. For example, if your movie is about a cop in a building trying to stop a band of terrorists, the resolution is most likely going to be him stopping the terrorists. The problem is that if you give us the exact resolution we’re expecting, we’re going to be let down. For this reason, writers try to give us a different, unexpected resolution. Luke Skywalker refuses to fight Kylo Ren. Daenerys turns into the female Hitler. Unfortunately, it’s really hard to give us an ending we had no idea was coming and it still make sense. The whole point of your story is to set up what’s going to happen in the end. Now you’re telling us none of that was relevant?
Today I’m going to share six tips that should help you avoid making giant mistakes like this. Use them separately or combine them to create the ultimate ending super-weapon.
I’ll start with the most obvious and, unfortunately, most boring solution. IF WE LIKE YOUR CHARACTERS, WE’LL LIKE YOUR ENDING. It’s rare that I watch a movie where I love the characters and hate the ending. That’s because when you’re invested in the characters, you care more about them than some well-crafted plot twist. Look at Die Hard. Die Hard has a standoff between the hero, the villain, and the hero’s wife. It is a scene we have literally seen hundreds of times before. There’s nothing exceptional about the moment at all. The ending works purely because we love John McClane, we detest Hans Gruber, and we love John’s wife. Whatever occurs here, as long as our hero wins, we’ll be happy. So start by writing characters that we love.
You could extrapolate the flip side of this to The Last Jedi. Not many people liked the Luke Skywalker Rian Johnson created. He was crabby, defeatist, unhelpful, annoying, and drank green milk from a wildebeast’s teet. It could be argued that the dye was already cast for the ending. We disliked Rian’s Luke so much that it wouldn’t have mattered what he did.
Solution number 2 for a strong ending is the CLIMAX OF A PERFECTLY CONSTRUCTED CHARACTER ARC. This means that you’ve set up a well-defined flaw in one of your main characters, you have explored your character bumping up against that flaw the whole movie. And then, when the final battle occurs, they break through and overcome it. The best example of this I’ve ever seen is The Matrix. And I say that because the movie’s climax takes place in the most boring setting possible – a hallway – and it’s still amazing. The reason it’s amazing is because it’s all about Neo’s character arc. He spent the entire movie struggling with his belief in himself (his flaw), and now, when the pivotal moment arrives, he believes, and is thus able to defeat the villain.
Solution number 3 is MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE – The problem with a lot of writers is there’s this sort of uninspired inevitability to their story. We know where they’re going because they make it so insanely obvious that that’s where they’re going. From there it’s just a matter of connecting the dots. Take us through beat 1, to beat 2, to beat 3, and the movie is over. The way to conquer this inevitability is to make things IMPOSSIBLE for your hero. I’m talking you make it so difficult EVEN YOU DON’T KNOW HOW THEY’RE GOING TO DO IT. Then, and only then, is your hero’s success going to have the enormous impact you’re looking for. Take a look at the last 20 minutes of Gravity. Even though you’re watching a Sandra Bullock film, at every turn it seems like there’s no way she’s going to survive.
Solution number 4 is the SUPER PAYOFF – Audiences LOVE payoffs. They’re cinema crack. Therefore, one of the trickiest, yet most effective, ways of creating a great ending, is to pay off all those setups you’ve been planting throughout your script. And if you haven’t been planting setups to pay off in your climax, what are you doing? The two films I’ve seen do this better than anyone else are Back to the Future and The Shawshank Redemption. It’s payoff after payoff after payoff after payoff. Where was the payoff in Luke’s final trickery in The Last Jedi? I’ll give you a hint. There wasn’t any. Which is why it was so lame.
Solution number 5 is a DIFFICULT CHOICE(S). If characters have easy choices in your ending, you probably don’t have a good ending. A huge part of what makes an ending great is the uncertainty behind it. There are no easy answers. There are no quick solutions. Your hero is going to have hard choices to make. The most famous example of this, of course, is Casablanca. But you can see it in a lot of movies. There’s a great moment at the end of The Mule where the cartel tells Clint, “That’s it. If you deviate one more time, we put a bullet in your head.” And on that very mission, he learns that his ex-wife is sick in the hospital. She’s probably going to die. Does he finish the mission? Or go see the mother of his children and grandchildren before she’s gone forever?
Finally, solution number six is MINING EMOTION FROM THEME – This is really hard to do since theme can often work against you. By this I mean, you can have great story ideas but have to abandon them because they aren’t extensions of your theme. The worst thing that can happen is you sacrifice everything to service a weak theme. This is what happened at the end of The Last Jedi. Rian Johnson was trying to push some complicated theme that only made sense if you read a 3000 word Last Jedi think piece on the internet, and as a result, we lost what could have been one of the most epic lightsaber battles ever. However, when you do this right – when the elements gel together – it can be magical. Pixar does a better job of this than anyone. Their movies are theme-heavy, but the difference between them and Johnson is that their themes are incredibly simple. At the top of the heap is Toy Story 3, which pushes the theme of “moving on.” Closing out the movie with a scene of the toys being given to a new child who could love and enjoy them just as much as their previous owner was the most emotionally satisfying way we could’ve concluded that theme.
It should go without saying that, like everything in movies, your gut plays just as strong a part in nailing your ending as these tips. You could follow any one of these suggestions and come up with something lame. If it doesn’t FEEL right, you probably want to go in a different direction. Good luck. And feel free to share your own “ending” tips in the comments.
Carson does feature screenplay consultations, TV Pilot Consultations, and logline consultations. Logline consultations go for $25 a piece or $40 for unlimited tweaking. You get a 1-10 rating, a 200-word evaluation, and a rewrite of the logline. If you’re interested in any sort of consultation package, e-mail Carsonreeves1@gmail.com with the subject line: CONSULTATION. Don’t start writing a script or sending a script out blind. Let Scriptshadow help you get it in shape first!
Genre: Action/Adventure/Supernatural
Premise: The best black ops team in the business is sent to hell to assassinate Satan in order to stop the End of Days.
About: This script sold to Paramount in 2009. The writer, Andy Burg, used to work on family movies like K-9 and Alaska. He wrote this script to re-market himself as an action writer. However, the script is ironically stuck in – yes I’m going here – development hell. They did have another writer come in and rewrite the script in 2012, but there’s been no public update since then. This is the original draft that sold.
Writer: Andy Burg
Details: 104 pages
High concept?
Pfft.
High concept is for sissies.
Welcome to the ultra-high concept. A concept so ready to be a movie that it’s laminated in trailer blood.
Big budget spec IP isn’t as dead as some people think. Free Guy started shooting today. Methusaleh, about a man who never ages, is charging forward at Warner Brothers. If an idea is cool enough, a studio will want to make it. The projects are just harder to get through the system. They have to be developed well. They have to be stronger. Let’s see how this HUGE idea works as a screenplay.
An unknown narrator eloquently narrates a gun pointed at a head with a sack over it (“The guy presently receiving twenty times the surgeon general’s daily allowance of iron is the Captain”). In the corner of the room, we see eight other bodies. All with sacks over their heads. All dead. This is the Captain’s black ops team, the guys you send in to do the dirtiest of the dirty work.
The soon-to-also-be-dead “Captain” pleads for his life. The shooter removes the sack, allowing The Captain to see him. “You,” the Captain says, astonished. Then the guy shoots him. Turn around. The killer is a priest, who promptly shoots himself as well.
We wake up in hell. It’s ugly. Loud bloviating horns are summoning the recently deceased to hurry along. If you hesitate, giant beasts whip you into pieces. The Captain looks for the rest of his crew. Guys like Sgt. Toast (half his face was burnt to a crisp in a war), Shakespeare the Sniper, Tank the Albino, Amish, Newbie, Twitch, and a few others. The group is not happy to be here. Luckily, a cloaked figure pulls up in a boat and tells them to get in. It’s the priest.
The priest explains that he’s sorry for killing them but Satan has begun the End of Days. The only way to stop this is to kill Satan. And who better to kill Satan than the dirtiest strike team on the planet? Nobody wants to do this, but the priest makes a strong pitch. Since Satan and Hell are one and the same, if they kill Satan, Hell disappears, and they’ll all go to Heaven, where the accommodations are nicer. They begrudgingly accept the mission.
They first have to go through a hell jungle with creepy siren ladies who wrap you up in thorny vines. They then have to sacrifice one of their own guys to get to the next circle. They then take on a number of hulking beast creatures. They then have to sacrifice another one of their guys. They then find out that Captain is actually the Arch-Angel Michael (something he seems to be as surprised about as them), which is good news since they’re going to need more than clever comebacks to defeat Satan. And then, finally, when they face Satan, they learn that it was all a ruse set up by the Priest, who isn’t actually a priest, but rather the real Satan. I think. And now he’s going to take over earth. The end.
One of the most frustrating things in this business is hearing about a big cool idea and then when you read the script, it doesn’t deliver. This happens all the time. The writer was talented enough to come up with a killer concept, but not skilled enough to execute it. So what is the number one mistake writers make when they get that great idea? Anybody know? I don’t see any hands. Okay, I’ll tell you. THEY THINK THE IDEA IS GOING TO CARRY THE LOAD.
If they run into a problem while writing the script, they don’t fight hard enough to solve it. They put in a half-a$$ effort and figure the concept is good enough to offset any weaknesses. The attitude every writer should have, whether they’re writing Jurassic Park or Gosford Park, is to do their best with every character, every scene, every plot beat, every moment. Readers are more fickle than ever. If you bore them for even a couple of pages, they’re gone.
The number two mistake is that their script starts strong then nosedives. It’s easy to start strong with a great concept. The first act is basically an advertisement for your cool idea. However, what happens (and what happens in Hellified) is that the script gets sloppier the further along it goes. I’ll give you a couple of examples.
Early on, our team learns that in order to get to the next circle of hell, they have to sacrifice one of their men. I like sacrifice scenes. They’re the ultimate embodiment of conflict. The characters must butt heads with one another to choose who dies. And if no one wants to die, things get ugly quickly. So I liked the scene. But then they have to do the same thing when they go to the next circle, and then the next circle, and then the next circle. And, of course, the law of diminishing returns rears its demonic head. You’re in one of the most unique places in existence and you’re repeating the same scene over and over again?? Bad choice.
Then there was The Captain’s reveal as Michael. It was sort of cool. But the more we learn about it, the muddier it became. So he was Michael disguised as Captain his whole life and he just forgot? Ummm… okay. To be honest, once that happened, the script was dead to me. You sold your entire movie on a black ops team versus Hell. But now it’s Arch-Angel Michael versus Hell? You’ve eliminated the coolest element of your story – a human team of mercenaries versus Satan.
There was also a surprising lack of originality, despite a canvas that was made for it. Most set pieces amounted to big scary creatures running up to our team and fighting them. As a writer, you should be focusing on the promise of your premise. What’s unique about YOUR idea? What can we get from YOUR script that we can’t get from any other movie? Those are the scenarios you need to be writing. Hellified only had one of those. Anyone care to guess what the writer came up with? Come on. You’re in the pitch room with the producer. He’s got this project, “Hellified.” He tells you he can’t figure it out. There aren’t enough scenes that deliver on the premise. “Any ideas come to mind?” he asks. I would hope that you’d have an answer.
The ONE promise-of-the-premise scene takes place when a distant group of people start charging our team. As they get closer, the team realizes that it’s all the people they killed on their missions. Come back for revenge. Now THAT’S delivering on the promise of your premise. In a big concept like this, you need at least three major scenarios that accomplish this goal. Not one.
Hollywood has yet to figure out how to make a movie about the fantasy version of hell (where hell is imagined as a giant chaotic lava underworld). The CGI on these movies is always dreadful. And I’m not convinced that anyone wants to spend two hours in hell. Hell has the kind of imagery you can take for a minute or two. But two hours? Then again, if you’re an optimist, this is an opportunity to be the one who figures it out. I even think this story could make it work. But it will need a major rewrite to do so.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: In the script, when describing a battle scene, the writer references “Troy” to help the reader imagine what the fighting looks like. When you’re referencing other movies, either in your writing or your pitching, don’t reference bad or average films. They’re basically the same thing in the eyes of Hollywood. And there’s a very simple reason for this. Troy was an okay movie that did okay at the box office. So when you reference it, you are saying that your movie will also be “okay” and do “okay” at the box office. When you’re spending this much money, nobody’s okay with “okay.” They want a hit. So when referencing, stick with classic movies and giant box office successes.
