Genre: Drama/True Story
Premise: In 1925 Detroit, a prosperous physician and descendant of slaves makes a stand when he challenges racial segregation by moving with his younger brother, wife, and infant daughter into a white suburb.
About: This script finished with 38 votes on last year’s Hit List, as well as 10 votes on last year’s Black List. It comes from a new team-up. Max Borenstein, who wrote Godzilla and Kong: Skull Island. And Rodney Barnes, who wrote on Everybody Hates Chris and Hulu’s Runaways. He also wrote the upcoming Black Messiah: The Fred Hampton Story. David Oyelowo will star as Ossian Sweet. Jose Padilha (2014’s Robocop) will direct.
Writers: Max Borenstein & Rodney Barnes
Details: 124 pages

Let’s keep it 100 here. This is the definition of Black List catnip. When you combine racial injustice and a true story, you might as well get a reservation slip in the mail since you’re guaranteed to be invited to the Black List party. It’s for this reason that I approached Arc of Justice skeptically. I’m not convinced it earned its spot so much as calculated it. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with calculation. If you see an opening, exploit it! It’s hard enough to make it in this business. Why not take advantage of loopholes? It’s just that this one seems particularly crafted to win the hearts of voters as opposed to audiences. I hope I’m wrong.

The year is 1925. 38 year-old Doctor Ossian Sweet, a black man, has become one of the best doctors in the Detroit, Michigan area. Sweet, along with his wife, Gladys, have had enough success that they’re able to move into one of the nicer suburbs in the area. There’s only one problem. The Sweets will be the only black people in that neighborhood.

Ossian’s troubled younger brother, Henry, isn’t sure this is the right move. Ossian has a near cult-like following in the black community. He’s a hero. To throw that away just to live amongst and earn the respect of white folks seems like a mistake. Still, he supports his brother, even helping him move in.

But as they carry furniture into the house, a crowd of white people form outside. At first, they’re curious. But then they become rowdy. Then rocks start flying through the window. Looking down at the mob from the upstairs, it seems to Ossian and Henry like the mob might rush the house. So Henry pulls out a gun. Ossian grabs it and the two scuffle. The next thing we hear are two shots, and two members of the mob fall. One is dead, the other injured. Ossian is arrested for murder.

In comes Walter White, a black journalist who’s constantly mistaken for being white due to his pale skin color. White sees Ossian as a symbol of the black man’s plight. He believes that if he can help Ossian win this case, it will give black men everywhere hope. But to do that, he’s going to need to get him a great lawyer, specifically a white lawyer, something Ossian’s not keen on.

The case will hinge on who, exactly, shot the white men, information not even we’re privy to. Ossian’s lawyer, Darrow, wants him to plead self-defense. It makes sense. People were storming his home. A man has a right to protect himself and his property. But Ossian refuses. He claims he’s innocent. This means they’ll have to bank on an all-white jury coming to the conclusion that Ossian is innocent, a near impossible feat in the year 1925.

I’ll start by saying this: Arc of Justice isn’t what I expected it to be.

I think I was expecting something heavier, slower, and more self-important. One of those, “Look at how serious I am!” Oscar contender types. But the script has a light touch at times. Dare I say even funny. It reads faster than you’d expect. And some of the characters were fun. Walter White, in particular, is a career changing role. In a way, he’s like a superhero – he’s able to slip into suspect places (such as a Ku Klux Klan rally) without anyone knowing he’s black. Giving him unfettered access to the darkest corners of white America.

But there’s something… I don’t know… wonky about the way the story is constructed, specifically how they didn’t show us who killed the man. Now if this choice had made the story better, I’d be all for it. But in almost every way, it makes the story worse. If we see that Henry shoots and kills the man, then we know that an innocent Ossian is putting his life on the line to protect his brother. That’s interesting. Instead, they wanted to play up the mystery of the shooter til the end, which is okay, I guess. But I never considered this an Agatha Christie novel. The hook isn’t “whodunnit?” The hook is will a white jury let a black man go free for the murder of a white man?

The whodunnit miscalculation works its way into every aspect of the story. One of the more compelling aspects of the script is Ossian’s defiant belief that justice will win out. He boneheadedly believes that the jury won’t see color, that they’ll do the right thing. This is his character’s flaw – his inability to accept that the world sees black people and white people as different. But this only works if we know Ossian is innocent. Yet we don’t know he’s innocent since the writers are still playing up the possibility that Ossian might’ve pulled the trigger. You can’t have it both ways!

Structurally, the script shuns the three act structure, opting for chapters instead. (i.e. Chapter 1: The Doctor, Chapter 4: The Great Defender, Chapter 6: The Shooter). There are seven chapters in all. I have no problem with this in theory and actually think it’s clever. A script is a giant chasm of space. It’s a cave that can seem endless at times. Anything you can do to break that up into chunks makes it more manageable.

You remember the kids who were stuck in a cave last month? If you only focused on getting to the kids, it seems daunting. But if you say: First, let’s get to this section, right here. We figure out a safe way to get there, then we’ll worry about getting to the next safe spot. And then so on and so forth. If you do that, getting to the finish line feels manageable. And that’s what you get here with the chapter approach.

The problem with a chapter approach (or something similar) is you’re going away from what’s proven to work – the 3-Act structure. Beginning (setup), Middle (conflict), End (resolution). That’s the most satisfying way to tell a story. So if you go away from what’s tried and true, you’ll be improvising. Which means the journey will be bumpier. And that’s exactly what Arc of Justice was. Bumpy. It’s a sometimes smooth but occasionally clunky story. And when you’re dealing with weighty material like this, audiences are less open to clunk. There’s a baseline level of sophistication required and Arc of Justice felt more like a script that was finding its way as it went along. We’ll see what happens though. If Padilha directs the hell out of the script, who knows?

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

What I learned: When you’re writing serious subject matter, don’t be afraid to add at least one flashy and/or fun character. A lot of writers erroneously believe that if their “serious” movie is going to be taken “seriously” that every frame needs to be “serious.” No, you need levity. You need the audience to be able to take a breath every once in awhile. Smile. Even laugh. The character of Walter White provided that here. He was fun.

Genre: Horror
Premise: When a man’s girlfriend is killed by a cult, he goes crazy, then goes after them one by one.
About: “Mandy” has become a bit of a phenomenon after its crazy trailer debuted. The combination of arresting visuals and Nicholas Cage at his most Nicholas Cage-ish, promised moviegoers a film unlike any they’ve seen in 2018. Writer/Director Panos Cosmatos has one feature under his belt, 2010’s “Beyond the Black Rainbow.” While that film came and went without a peep, Mandy is getting amazing reviews, garnering a 94% on Rotten Tomatoes. Is Mandy the new face of horror? And, more importantly, has the film returned Nicholas Cage to us?
Writer: Panos Cosmatos and Aaron Stewart-Ahn
Details: 120 minutes of something

Before we get to Mandy, I just want to talk about Predator for a second. Because that’s the movie I should be reviewing. It’s the big release of the weekend. It’s a known property. And yet, I had zero interest in seeing it. In fact, I had a negative desire. And with a paltry 24 million dollars in box office, it sounds like I wasn’t the only one steering clear. This is something studios don’t get. These days, people think a lot harder about paying to see a movie. Not only are movies more expensive, but between TV and the internet, people have more options.

So when your solution to that problem is the pitch: “Predator in a suburb,” you need to take a long hard look at why you’re making movies. I’m not saying that every movie needs to be Avengers these days. But I am saying that trying to package mid-budget dying properties as must see moviegoing experiences is a bad idea. You’d be much better off taking a chance on something new and trying to build future IP on that. There are Matrixes and John Wicks out there to be had but not if you don’t take a chance in the first place.

For this reason, I decided to review Mandy instead. It looked a thousand times more interesting than predators mowing the lawn or whatever this Predator movie’s about. Nicholas Cage has been stuck in the 9 Circles of Direct-to-Digital Hell for so long that it’d be nice to see him finally climb his way out. And so, with a boat full of glee, I pressed play and experienced something unlike anything I’ve experienced before. How does that old saying go? Be careful what you wish for?

In order to accurately summarize this movie I will need to call Nicholas Cage’s character Nicholas Cage, since he was never named. Okay, so Nicholas Cage is dating this girl named Mandy. They live in a home out in the wilderness. Despite Nicholas Cage working as a forester and Mandy working as a convenience store clerk, the two have a lot of time to lounge around.

And lounge around they did. There were at least half-a-dozen scenes of Nicholas Cage and Mandy lying around talking to each other about stuff. Deep conversations like, “What’s your favorite planet?” “Galactus,” Nicholas Cage says. “That’s not a planet,” Mandy says. “Yes but Galactus eats planets,” Nicholas Cage says, “Ruff ruff ruff ruff.”

Why did Nicholas Cage mime barking after clarifying his planet choice? Your guess is as good as mine.

Anyway, so Mandy is strolling down the road one day. Not to go anywhere of course. But because the writer needs her to be strolling so this next part can happen. A van full of – I guess you would call them a cult – sputters by. The Leader of the cult spots Mandy and, on the way home, decides that he’s obsessed with her. So he tells his Lieutenant, who looks like a young Bob Newhart, to kidnap her. Bob Newhart Jr. drives to the forest, takes out a flute, plays a tune, and a little while later three monsters on motorcycles show up. No, I’m not making this up.

The monsters go to Nicholas Cage and Mandy’s house and kidnap Mandy. The Leader is excited to have sex with his new plaything, except it all goes wrong when he disrobes and Mandy starts laughing at the size of his penis. No, I am not making this up. The Leader is so furious that he kidnaps Nicholas Cage and then burns Mandy alive in front of him for laughing at his penis.

Nicholas Cage then goes to an old war friend and asks for his crossbow back. Not sure why he left his crossbow with his old friend in the first place but sure, why not. Nicholas Cage then forges a double-sided axe out of molten lava and proceeds to hunt down the monster-cyclers one by one. Afterwards, he descends upon the cult and kills them, too, before finally remembering his beloved Mandy, and we pan up to see we’re on a planet in another solar system (this really happens).

So, here’s the thing.

You’re probably looking at Mandy’s RT score (94%) and wondering why my summary characterizes it as the worst movie ever made.

Good question.

The thing with Mandy is that it has…. something. It’s shot in this vibrant grainy 16mm stock and lit in this deep red and blue hue that results in a palette you’ve never quite seen before. Then you’ve got this haunting electronica score, which is so lonely and affecting that you can place it over a single shot of just actors talking and it’s bizarrely mesmerizing.

There’s also an unhinged quality to the acting that makes every scene unpredictable. The scenes with the cult, in particular, are some of the more uncomfortable moments you’ll watch all year. So I can see why the average bored-out-of-his-mind critic was taken with this. It is literally unlike anything he’s seen this decade. And critics are known for giving points to anything that dares to be different, regardless of whether it’s different good or different bad.

The problem with Mandy is that the script is so dreadfully bad. It’s clear that there was no effort put into even the basics of the story. Who are these characters? Why are they living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere? What did they do before this? This is when I really know I’m dealing with a new screenwriter. When you can tell they don’t have any idea who the characters were before their starting point in the movie. There is no history to either of these characters, which is why they end up having conversations like “What is your favorite planet?”

On top of this you have repetitive beats everywhere. We have one scene with Nicholas Cage and Mandy lying down and talking. Then two scenes later we have another scene with Nicholas Cage and Mandy lying down and talking. You have to mix things up in a script. If you’re going to have your characters lying down and talking one scene, have them driving and talking next time, or walking and talking, or even standing and talking! Actually, the best option is to have them doing something (story related preferably) and talking. You only want to put the focus on the dialogue and nothing else if that dialogue is world-changing. To that end, let me repeat the last line of dialogue in the “What is your favorite planet?” scene: “Ruff ruff ruff ruff.”

On top of this, many of the scenes were embarrassingly long. This is another newbie screenwriter tell – the endless scene. The scene that should’ve ended five minutes ago but NOPE it’s still going! The most egregious example of this is the now infamous ‘your penis is so small it’s funny’ scene. You’d think that once we established that she thought his penis was too small and laughed about it, the scene would be over. Nope, she then laughs for another three minutes, during which the Leader yells at each and every member of his cult individually to “look away!”

I already know what defenders of this film are going to say. “But it’s totally batshit crazy!” “Nicholas Cage runs around with a chainsaw!” “There are monsters on bikes!” “It’s bonkers! You’re not supposed to think so much!” You’re all wrong. I’m fine with bonkers. But there has to be some internal logic to the mythology. There has to be a plan in place. There was clearly no plan here. This director wrote this script in a weekend, he made everything up as he went along, and it feels that way. Who are these monsters? When was it established that monsters even existed in this world? Why is it the monsters live in apartments just like real people? If some thought – ANY THOUGHT – would’ve been put into this mythology, I’d be open to it. But none of these dots connect. It’s a bunch of sloppy half-baked ideas held together by popsicle sticks. And not even the good popsicle sticks. The generic kind.

I’m not going to say this director is totally useless. As a filmmaker, he has something. But I’d be surprised if he’s ever seen a screenplay before. I would go so far as to guess he wrote this script on napkins. That’s how terrible this story was. Dare I say I wish I would’ve gone to Predator instead?

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

What I learned: The more you know about your characters, the more specific their conversations will be. And specificity will always lead to better dialogue. The less you know, the more generic the conversations are, and while those conversations may feel “deep” and “poignant” to you (“What’s your favorite planet?”), they feel broad and pointless to the audience.

I want to remind everybody who pitches their script for Amateur Offerings: DO NOT MENTION THAT YOUR SCRIPT IS OLD! I came across four entries that touted the fact that the script was “an old project of mine,” and “something I’ve been working on for a decade.” No. No no no no no no. That may be true. But don’t tell me that. Don’t tell ANYBODY that. People in Hollywood want THE NEXT BIG SHINY THING. They don’t want the old dusty thing. If you have a problem lying, then just don’t mention the age of the script at all. Present it as is. Come on, you guys should know this by now.

For those of you looking for an update on The Janitor (the last AO script winner, which blew me away), I’ve started sending it out to people. I’ll keep you updated on what happens along the way. Hopefully we’ll have some good news. And I would love for nothing more than to keep the good vibes going. So let’s find another impressive amateur screenwriter!

If you haven’t played Amateur Offerings before, pay close attention! Read as many of this weekend’s scripts as you can and VOTE for your favorite in the comments section. Voting closes on Sunday night, 11:59pm Pacific Time. Winner gets a review next Friday. — If you’d like to submit your own script to compete in Amateur Offerings, send a PDF of your script to carsonreeves3@gmail.com with the title, genre, logline, and why you think your script should get a shot.

Good luck everyone!

Title: Skin
Genre: Sci-Fi, Drama
Logline: Facing pressure from a controversial tech mogul and protests from angry students, an android with dark skin struggles to form a social identity while attending a historically black university.
Why You Should Read: Hey Carson. Have a new script that I plan to submit to competitions but I wanted to get some feedback from the toughest and brightest before going forward. Simplest way to describe my script would be “Dear White People” meets “Ex Machina.” I’m a huge fan of Spike Lee, racial satire and sci-fi with a social commentary and wanted to create a story that reflected all those influences. I also actively wanted to avoid the clichéd comedy-sketch type moments that one might expect from a film with this premise. And the moments of levity in the script are used primarily to enhance the characters. It’s a quick, easy read but it’s also challenging and thought-provoking. Thanks for the opportunity and I hope you enjoy.

Title: OUT OF DEATH
Genre: Thriller
Logline: An innocent prisoner and a compromised federal agent flee from two crooked local cops through the deep woods of Pennsylvania after an attempted frame job goes wrong.
Why you should read: The attached script is a low-budget contained thriller that’s received some great reviews on the Black List website. I’m a huge fan of Richard Wenk and his script for 16 Blocks and The Equalizer. I’ve tried to emulate some of that work here. It’s a fast-paced, sparsely written script, which centers around a female protagonist (ends up being a girl with a gun). I just read Blonde Ambition, which inspired the hell out of me to take some chances to get my stuff out there whenever I can (damn, if Madonna isn’t my own personal hero now). I appreciate your consideration.

Title: Black & White
Genre: TV Pilot – Crime drama
Logline: An outsider becomes the first black police officer in a small Louisiana town in the 1960s and has to navigate he and his family through the growing tensions of being pushed out by both blacks and whites, while tensions also mount because of the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement.
Why You Should Read: I just optioned two scripts, one being the western that was reviewed on this site, and an action movie I wrote quite a while ago that I almost gave up on, both being directed by Chuck Russell who is a director I feel extremely lucky to have on board.
About this script: This is a story and subject I really wanted to tell. I was looking for something period that was relevant to today. I was originally going to write (and I still may) a Downton Abbey of the south, taking place during, or right before, the civil war. During my research I found a true story (in which this is based on) that tickled something inside me that said, “you need to tell this story!” So this is my take. — The first draft of this script made the top 1% of the Script Pipeline contest, though it didn’t make the top ten (super sad by the way!). They said that it was because they thought the subject matter would be a hard sell, though others don’t think that, so who knows. — Billy Ray also just read it and really liked it and we have a lunch set up in a couple weeks to discuss it. This is the draft that Billy read. I was going to make the change(s) he suggested, but decided to wait until he and I meet. I’m curious if the same note(s) comes up. I of course want to make this as good as I can. I want to know if it’s something people like and if it’s something they would keep watching. I’m a little nervous, but thanks for taking a look! — And I also need to say something – even if you don’t have a manager or an agent (of which I don’t have either at the moment) that it is still possible to get your stuff out there, and like me, possibly made. So don’t sit around and wait for an agent or manager to come around, make your own contacts, do your own work, get it out there, and get anybody who is anybody to read it… just please please PLEASE make sure it’s ready before you send it out!! lol Thanks guys! Hope you like it!

Title: A Killer Musical
Genre: Musical Horror Comedy
Logline: In 1985, an eager teen in search of an exciting summer signs up to work at a musical summer camp where counselors are stalked and murdered by an unknown assailant.
Why You Should Read: A Killer Musical is three things: a musical, a slasher movie, and a comedy, in that order. I wanted to have legitimate song and dance numbers to go along with the jump scares and brutal murders of a slasher film, all while keeping the humor from moving into Scary Movie territory where the characters behave as if they are aware that they are in a horror film. — This script is for everyone that has watched Friday the 13th and said to themselves, “Why aren’t there any song and dance numbers in this camp counselor murder romp?” — I’ve only been lurking Scriptshadow’s AOW for a short while and I haven’t seen a musical yet. Perhaps it’s time?

Title: Don’t Do It
Genre: Horror
Logline: Having exhausted all medical avenues to bring his wife out of her two year coma, a desperate husband opts for an illegal solution that will wake her up but with terrifying consequences.
Why You Should Read: We’re told that if we want the best odds of breaking in then it’s with a low budget horror script and so that’s the avenue I have been pursuing since the start of the year. With a small cast, very few locations, and a simple horror concept this is me playing the odds. The idea for this story began while reading about the sad case of Michael Schumacher, the millionaire racing car champion who is now cared for at home after a skiing accident left him in a coma several years ago. I thought about what his house must look like – the medical staff, the machines, and his poor family praying for him to wake up. This gave me the idea for Don’t Do It. . How far would you go to wake up the person you love?

A hot topic after yesterday’s review was how the script was driven by “ex special forces” characters. I read a variety of comments that said something akin to, “Whenever I see “ex” anything in the logline, I’m out.” The consensus was that this was a lazy cliche writing choice that demonstrated an utter lack of imagination. To this I say, “I feel ya.” You can probably find some early reviews on the site with me railing against this very issue. But in time, I’ve come to change my mind. And I want to explain why.

The number one reason you want to use an ex-special forces, or ex-detective, or even active versions of these characters in your screenplay, is that it makes your script a hundred times more marketable. There is no genre Hollywood knows how to market better than “guy with a gun.”

I’ll never forget when this clicked for me. I was reading an interview with Joel Silver, who had talked to Robert Downey Jr., and Downey Jr. was lamenting the fact that he couldn’t break into the larger blockbuster scene. Silver said, as if obviously, “Well yeah, it’s because you’ve never had a gun in your hand in a movie.” In the next movie (“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang”), Downey Jr. strapped up, and it wouldn’t be long before he became one of the biggest movie stars in the world.

You could make the same case for Liam Neeson. Neeson has had a great career. But he didn’t become a household name until his ex special forces character with a particular set of skills, Bryan Mills, flew to France to save his daughter.

I can already hear you saying, “But isn’t it much more original and interesting if the hero DOESN’T possess a particular set of skills?” Not only does he become a bigger underdog, but if he’s not proficient with a gun, he has to use his wits and creativity to get out of situations. That’s so much more interesting than “bam bam, you’re dead.”

There’s some truth to this statement but here’s the thing. You’re limited in how extreme of a situation you can place a character in if they don’t possess the skills to survive that situation. Take John Wick. If John Wick is just a normal guy, he’s dead by the 20 minute mark. You can’t go up against a trained Russian syndicate if you’re a nobody who’s never pulled a trigger before. Any version of that story that has our untrained hero defeating the Russian syndicate is a bold-faced manipulation. And that’s the real issue here. The less skilled your hero is, the less skilled the opposition must be for it to be believable, and, by association, the smaller and less marketable your movie becomes.

The exemption to this rule is the “run away” narrative. You used to see this a lot in conspiracy thrillers like Enemy of the State. Because the “normal everyday guy” didn’t have the skills to go toe-to-toe with his government trained pursuers, he would run away. And the whole movie, then, would become running. As exciting as some of these films have been, a situation where a character runs away is never as compelling as a situation where a character stands his ground. And you can’t stand your ground if you don’t know how. Remember, guys, you’re going up against SUPER HEROES these days. The coolest and most badass characters cinema has ever seen. The ONLY type of character who can compete against this at the box office is a REAL LIFE SUPERHERO – James Bond and Ethan Hunt and ex special forces dudes such as our heroes in Triple Frontier.

So the question you should be asking isn’t, “How can I have my plumber protagonist believably defeat the Chinese mafia?” It should be, “How can I make an age-old character trope interesting, different, fresh, or all of the above?”

Levres offered up the first answer to this, which is that you can camouflage the cliche-ness of your hero’s background if you place them in a fresh situation. In other words, if you place a bunch of ex navy seals on a mission in Iraq to kill a terrorist, we’re not going to be excited about that. It’s too familiar. But a bunch of ex navy seals being forced to save a high-profile politician who’s been taken hostage with his family by a terrorist inside Disney World? That feels different. It’s a key reason why Triple Frontier worked. The unique locale helped offset the ex-special forces cliche.

But the secret sauce in winning this war is in the character construction. If you write a good character, it doesn’t matter what job they have. It doesn’t matter if they’re the most cliche archetype there is. If you can make them likable, if you can make them relatable, if you can provide them with depth, if you can give them personality, if you can give them a flaw they’re battling, we’re not going to be thinking about their jobs. We’re going to be thinking about them.

So if you’re one of these writers who’s writing an ex-Navy SEAL, your first order of business is to construct a character we like, and look for ways to make them different. Because what critics are really saying when they say, “I hate ex-Special Forces characters,” is “I hate generic ex-Special Forces characters.” One of the best scripts I’ve ever read, The Equalizer, had ex-agent Robert McCall helping an overweight co-worker eat properly so he could pass a fitness test in order to make security guard. Later, we find McCall reading The Old Man and the Sea (he’s attempting to read all 50 books from the “The 50 Books You Must Read Before You Die” list) in a diner. This guy’s a little different. This ensures that we don’t think about the cliche nature of his former job.

Finally, if you’re writing “cliche” main characters like ex-NAVY SEALS, take some chances with your narrative. The idea here is if you’re going to play it safe in one area, you need to take chances in other areas. Because you can’t completely avoid cliche in a movie. It’s impossible. But you can minimize it. I brought this up with Triple Frontier yesterday. I loved how after they rob the house, the final 50 pages cover the logistical nightmare of trying to transfer 600 million dollars out of Paraguay. I’d never seen that before. If you can make narrative choices that give us things we’ve never seen before, they’re going to cancel out the things we have.

Now I’m not saying there’s no way to write a movie where an average guy defeats an organization of trained men. The Matrix figured out a way to do it. But if you can’t find that elusive Matrix-like idea, it’s still possible to write a good movie with cliche FBI agents or cliche ex-special forces agents. Just put them in a new situation, give us characters we care about, and take some chances with the narrative. You’ll be good. :)

Is it possible? Is it happening? Have we achieved the rare DOUBLE IMPRESSIVE Scriptshadow Week? Read on to find out!

Genre: Crime/Action
Premise: A group of ex-special forces come together to steal 90 million dollars from a drug lord in the most criminally potent area of the world, the Triple Frontier.
About: Triple Frontier is one of those projects that’s been impossible to get made. It’s had more starts and stops than my neighbor’s 1999 Volkswagon Jetta. But no matter how much talent has come and gone, the project has always been able to replace them with either equal or better talent. That’s typically the sign of great material. That’s because when you have bad material and A-listers drop out, you never get any A-listers back. Your project is doomed to second-tier status. Well, all that waiting has paid off as the film is now in post-production. It stars Charlie Hunman, Oscar Isaac, and Ben Affleck. J.C. Chandor (Margin Call, A Most Violent Year) directed. Mark Boal (The Hurt Locker, Zero Dark Thirty) wrote the script.
Writer: Mark Boal
Details: 136 pages

The heist is one of the most bankable structures in storytelling. Get a group of contrasting characters together (Act 1), give them something they want to steal (Act 3), then slowly build a plan for achieving their goal (Act 2). It’s almost full-proof. And yet, we don’t get a lot of good heist films. In fact, I can’t remember the last one I saw.

That’s because the heist film is one of the most difficult genres to come up with something fresh for. Most of the heist scripts I read involve stealing money from a bank. There just aren’t that many ways to make that premise original. So I was thrilled when I picked up Triple Frontier, which promised to be a new take on the heist genre. Let’s see if it succeeded.

Ex-Special Forces operator Pope has gotten tired of missions to remote parts of the world where he guides local police to take down giant drug dealers. It’s more death, more destruction, and he thought he left all that behind with the special forces. The problem is, a man needs to make a living. And these missions are the only thing Pope knows how to do that pay good money.

Then one day, a Brazilian drug runner discloses to Pope the location of one of the biggest drug runners in the world, Lorea. Lorea has a home in Paraguay right off the criminally infamous Triple Frontier (the nexus of Paraguay, Brazil, and Argentina), where he’s holding 90 million dollars. With Pope’s unique skillset, he believes he can break in the house and get that money. But he’s going to need some help.

Enter his ex special forces buddies: the all-American Redfly, the bipolar Ben, the wily old vet, Ironhead, and the cool-as-a-cucumber Catfish. Some of the men are reluctant and others reared up and ready to go. But in the end, because there wouldn’t be a movie unless they all signed up, they all sign up.

Once in the Triple Frontier, the group begins doing surveillance and planning. And when I say planning, I mean planning. Pope gets his hands on the blueprints for Lorea’s house and builds an EXACT REPLICA in the jungle so that they can practice the heist. But that’s only the beginning of this mission impossible, as they have to figure out shit like how five men can carry away 4500 pounds of money on foot, and how they can escape through a backyard that rings an alarm if anything over 20 pounds steps on it.

After extensively perfecting their plan, they wait out an unexpected rainstorm and sneak in. Everything goes according to plan until they arrive in the money room and… it’s gone. Not a single bill. Just as everyone starts freaking out, Pope notices that the ceiling is leaking. They moved the money during the storm so it wouldn’t get wet! But that means going through every room one by one to find it.

As you’d expect, this leads to them being spotted, and within seconds there are three dozen guards converging on them. The soldiers go into fuck-all mode and start shooting everyone. They know the gig is up. They know they should leave. But they’ve put so much effort into this that they must have that money. So after the money they go. Will they get it? I’m thinking they’ll find a way. But the real test may be what happens AFTER they get the money.

Uhhhh…

This. Was. Good.

Wow.

I’m talking really really good.

Where do I begin? Let’s start with the heist itself. What’s the number rule for writing a good heist film? It’s not what goes right, it’s what goes wrong. Your job, as a writer of a heist flick, is to have your criminals cover all the bases, make sure they’ve found contingencies for every situation, and then when they show up, something goes wrong. And that thing that goes wrong leads to several other things that go wrong. And quickly, the whole damn heist falls apart.

I LOVED when they arrived in the money room and the money wasn’t there. Even when my cynical screenwriting analyst brain kicked in and said, “Of course they were duped. That’s what always happens!” But then Pope looked up and saw the leaking and realized the money had been moved and I said, “oooooooh, that’s good.”

I loved how the script evolved from there. Because what I was expecting to happen is what always happened in these mid-point heist films (a script where the heist happens at the mid point instead of the third act): They get the money home but then the bad guys come and hunt them down.

Triple Frontier instead focuses on the complexity of getting this money out of the country. The special forces guys rent a helicopter, only to find out that the money (which has increased from 90 million to 600 million at this point) will be too heavy. But they decide to risk it anyway, and fly their copter through the endless South American mountain forest. When the mountains start getting too high, they have to make the unthinkable choice of dropping the money and living or keeping the money and likely spiraling into the most hostile terrain in the world.

That was one of the best scenes I’ve read this year, besting even the Mission Impossible Fallout helicopter chase. And I’ll tell you why. It wasn’t just a simple helicopter chase. Difficult choices needed to be made. They MIGHT have been able to make it through the mountains if they kept the money. But they likely wouldn’t have. How do you make that decision? The decision to throw away 600 million dollars?

But the script isn’t just the heist. Boal made the bold choice of using the entire first act to get the band back together. This is a controversial screenwriting choice because modern screenwriting outlets will tell you to move this section along as quickly as possible. A short burst of scenes that has the band back together and ready to go by page 10, page 15 at the latest. They’re afraid that if you include an entire opening act of characters reuniting and talking and establishing their jobs and lives, that the average audience member will get bored.

But the great thing that happens when you extend your character intros out that far is that we get to know the characters better. I mean, it’s simple math. The more time you spend with someone, fictional or real, the more you’re going to care about them. Therefore, when these guys flew off to the Triple Frontier, I felt like I knew each of them. The extra time really paid off.

Now there’s a caveat to this. You have to be good with character to pull it off. You have to know how to set up a flaw. You have to know how to make your characters unique. You have to give each character a defining personality that’s easy for the audience to understand so they can label him properly (Chris Kyle was the introspective sniper). Each character’s dialogue has to be unique and interesting. If character isn’t your strong suit, don’t spend an entire act getting the band back together.

The fact that this script has been sitting on the shelf for so long is insane. I’m guessing it’s because Ben Affleck has a million projects to do and he’s in rehab half the year and they had to wait for him. I’m just glad the wait is over. Cause this movie is going to be damn good.

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

What I learned: Find a unique place in the world that isn’t well known and build a story around it. What makes Triple Frontier so good is that we’d never heard of the Triple Frontier before. It hasn’t been in any movie. It creates the all important “strange attractor” we can exploit for one hell of a heist film.