Genre: Action/Adventure
Premise: A Robin Hood tale that focuses on his arrow-slinging romantic interest, Marian.
About: Pete Barry played the long game with this script, first placing in the Top 25 of the 2016 Launch Pad Competition, and then, in 2017, selling his script to Sony. This is one of those “right place, right time” scenarios – writing a female-centered screenplay during a time when studios were dying to buy anything female-centered. The package was so hot that it snagged Hollywood’s current “It Girl,” Margot Robbie. Barry is also a playwright, actor, and director.
Writer: Pete Barry
Details: 109 pages

What makes the character of Robin Hood so popular? I would say irony has something to do with it. You have a hero who steals – who STEALS! – but (and here’s the key part) he doesn’t steal for himself. He steals for people who need the money. He does something bad to do something good. This shows that even 300 years ago, or whenever Robin Hood was written, ironic premises captured readers’ imaginations.

But this leads me to another, more current question. Why doesn’t the character of Robin Hood work TODAY? The last time I checked, there hasn’t been a hit Robin Hood movie in 30 years. The answer to this one is easier. It’s because Robin Hood wreaks of “old fashioned.” Put this character on the screen and you feel like you’re being forced to do history homework. There’s nothing exciting or fresh about it.

I think the only way Robin Hood works in the modern era is if you place it in the modern era. Have someone in 2018 steal from the rich and give to the poor. Or find a new weird angle into the mythology. Cause I’m sorry, but there are only so many ways to make a forest look exciting. Screenwriter Pete Barry is set to prove me wrong by making one key change to the age-old IP – turn Robin Hood into a woman. Let’s see if it works.

England is reeling. There’s a man named Robin Hood who keeps breaking into castles, stealing gold, and handing it out to the poor. Marian, who lives in one of these castles, has a secret. She’s dating Robby.

One day, while she goes into the forest to meet him, an assassin jumps out of nowhere and kills Robin Hood! Nooooooo!!! She recognizes the evil a-hole as Guy of Gisbourne, a weirdo who likes to kill and scalp horses. Unfortunately, he gets away before she can enact revenge.

While this was going on, Queen Eleanor of Nottingham was also getting attacked by mysterious woodspeople, but is able to survive. Both Marion and Eleanor meet back at the castle where Sheriff Brewer, who now knows of Marian’s secret, is waiting. He exposes Marian’s love affair to Eleanor, who doesn’t seem upset about it for some reason that I never understood.

Marian is determined to charge out and find the man who ordered her beloved Robin Hood killed. But before she can put on her detective cape, the castle comes under attack by a mysterious woodspeople army.

The castle is outnumbered so Marian is forced to climb up to the defense tower, Robin Hood’s hood hiding her identity, and rain down fire arrows on everyone. The woodspeople erroneously believe that Robin Hood is still alive, which gives the castle enough time to evacuate their people out a secret passageway.

Queen Eleanor realizes that the only way they’re going to save their kingdom is to find out who this army is. After some sleuthing throughout the land, we find that Eleanor’s evil son is responsible. He hired the army to dress up like the French and take down Nottingham Castle so that he could win favor with the people.

As for Marian, I think she still wants to kill that Gisbourne guy for assassinating her boyfriend, which she does. She then decides to take up the mantle and become the new Robin Hood. The End.

Ouch.

This one was ruuuuuuuuuf.

I mean, I don’t know where to start. I guess with the inconsistencies? Robin Hood steals from Queen Eleanor. However, later, Robin Hood (or who everyone thinks is Robin Hood) is defending the castle from marauders? So the guy who made his name off stealing from you is now fighting for you and everyone just goes with it? That made zero sense.

But the bigger problem is that this “secret army” was never established properly. I assumed that all the forest people were an extension of the Robin Hood gang and it was them versus the establishment. But then, through some wonky storytelling, we learn that there are two separate types of forest people – the good kind, and this, other, bad kind.

Not only that, but the bad kind has this mysterious sheen over them. We’re not told who they are. We’re not even told they’re bad until they’re attacking the castle. So at first I thought it was Robin Hood’s gang attacking the castle. Which made things even more confusing when Marian, dressed as Robin Hood, was shooting arrows at them.

Then there were the allegiances, which were confusing as hell. Is Marian aligned with the good forest people or isn’t she? It was unclear whether she was a hardcore member of their gang or just there to swap spit with Robin Hood. Because once he was out of the picture, she seemed pretty tight with Sheriff Brewer and Queen Eleanor. I could never tell what her situation was. It was incredibly frustrating.

The script is also a plot explosion. There’s so much to keep track of with Marian becoming Robin Hood and the secret behind who assassinated him and Eleanor trying to keep the castle safe while her sons were out of town and this secret army that someone was building for reasons that were never understood.

It’s classic overplotting.

All you needed here was a woman whose boyfriend was assassinated and she’s trying to find the killer. That’s it. Her investigation takes her into the forest, where she questions Robin Hood’s own gang, to the sheriff, to wealthy landowners, and finally to the castles, where she must deftly switch in and out of disguise in order to find the truth. Just keep it simple.

Why do writers feel the need to write these stories that require their own separate study guide to keep track of what’s going on?

But the biggest faux pas here is Marian herself. She never gets a chance to shine. Eleanor has a lot more to do in this story than Marian does, and that’s criminal, since Marian’s name is in the title.

This is something all writers should think about – How do I build a story that best allows my hero to shine? If your hero is being placed on the backburner in favor of exposition because the plot is so complicated, you’re not getting the most out of your hero. You need to write something that has them at the forefront of the story doing the things that the audience paid to see. In this case: putting that hood on, stealing from the rich, and shooting a lot of goddamn arrows.

There’s only one scene where that’s kind of happening – when Marian is on top of the castle shooting at the army. But like I said, that scene didn’t make sense (why is Robin Hood fighting for the good guys now?).

Let’s be 100% honest here. This script sold because it hit that sweet spot of what the studios were looking for at that moment. And this happens sometimes. You get lucky. And to Barry’s credit, he came up with a concept he knew would be catnip to producers. There’s value in that. I just wish the story wasn’t so sloppy. This is a page 1 rewrite.

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

What I learned: Plot suffocation – One of the biggest momentum killers in storytelling is TOO MUCH PLOT. If there’s too much plot, you’re spending the majority of your scenes on exposition. Exposition is boring. Hence, it’s more likely the reader will become bored. Lighten up the plot load by keeping things simple. If this would’ve stayed with Marian trying to find out who killed Robin Hood (extremely simple plot), I think it would’ve worked.

Genre: TV Pilot – 1 Hour Drama
Premise: After a real estate developer accepts a half a million dollar loan from a new friend, he learns that the money comes with lots of attached strings.
About: Pitched as a “Hithcockian” thriller, Suspicion is based on a book and adapted for television by Jessica Goldberg, who created the Hulu television series, The Path. It will premiere this fall on NBC. Goldberg studied writing at NYU and started her career as a playwright, winning the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize for her play, Refuge, about a young woman who must take care of her siblings after her parents abandon the family. She would later adapt the play into a script and direct the movie, which starred “Jessica Jones,” Krysten Ritter.
Writer: Jessica Goldberg (based on the novel by Joseph Finder)
Details: 60 pages

One of the reasons network TV is in a bind is because the networks aren’t sure what they’re trying to do anymore. The cool shows that get all the accolades are on premium cable and streaming. So you’d think that the networks would focus on lightweight comfort food, the kind of soapy dishes that don’t require more than a passing investment.

The problem with that is the rise of reality TV, which hasn’t just taken the pole position for comfort food, they’ve injected it with even more comfort. I can turn off my brain, watch Million Dollar Listing, and finish my TV viewing for the day a happy man. This leaves network shows caught somewhere in the middle. And right now the only person who’s figured where that sweet spot is is Shonda Rhimes. And she’s leaving for Netflix.

I bring this up because until the networks figure out how to give people something they can’t get elsewhere, their ratings are going to keep falling. I picked up Suspicion because it sounded slightly different. It wasn’t yet another medical/cop/agent/legal show and it was trying to explore the Hitchcock formula through long-form writing. I liked that pitch. Let’s see how the final product turned out.

We meet 40-something real estate developer Danny Goodman dragging a body from the back of his car. He tells us, through voice over, that it wasn’t always like this. Cut to three months earlier and Danny is asking his beautiful girlfriend, Lucy, to marry him. Oh, and get this. Danny’s 16 year old daughter, Elise, whose mother died of cancer five years ago, actually LIKES her new mother. After much pain, Danny’s life is finally back on track.

As is Elise’s. She’s finally making friends again. Her new best friend, Tatiana, happens to belong to one of the wealthiest families in town. And when Tatiana’s family asks Danny’s family over for dinner, Danny doesn’t hesitate.

Except that before he goes, he learns that the building he recently bought, the one that he bet his entire business on, is decrepit and falling apart. It’s going to cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in repairs, money he doesn’t have.

Once at the dinner, Danny meets Tom Canter, Tatiana’s father. Tom is brazenly charming and overly thankful for the emergence of Elise in Tatiana’s life. Before her, Tatiana was on a path of destruction. In Tom’s eyes, he owes Danny everything. So when he overhears Danny talking to his lawyer later about the building, he offers to help Danny out. Danny feels odd about it, but he’s really in a bind, so the next day he accepts half a million dollars from Tom.

It doesn’t take long for the FBI to show up at Danny’s work. They explain that Tom is involved in money laundering, securities fraud, illegal campaign contributions, you name it. They tell Danny that unless he works with them, he’ll go to prison for the next 30 years. And that’s how Danny finds himself working as an informant for the FBI to take down one of the most dangerous men in Boston.

Let’s get back to that question. Was this different from any of the other network TV shows on the air?

Not really.

But if you want to write for TV, this is a really good pilot to read in order to understand structure and pacing.

Last week I reviewed Lodge 49 and that pilot read like the writer kept falling asleep between scenes, only to wake up a few hours later, down a bag of chips, smoke a joint, write another scene, then go to sleep again. It didn’t seem like he cared about your time at all.

This reads like a writer who understands how quickly stories need to move in 2018. We get the teaser with the car dragging the body. And in the VERY next scene, which we cut to three months prior, the main character asks his girlfriend to marry him.

After a few brief scenes with the family, we establish that Danny is in a lot of trouble with the building. From there, the family goes to Tom’s. We meet Tom. But we don’t fart around. A major story beat is introduced (Tom overhears Danny’s phone call then offers him money).

The very next day, Tom goes to work, and the FBI is there. Again: THIS IS HOW QUICKLY YOU WANT THINGS TO MOVE. After that, the agents force Danny to download information on Tom’s phone. So that becomes a set-piece.

Always moving always moving always moving. If your story isn’t moving, it’s dying.

If you need help moving your story faster, use Act Breaks. There are FIVE ACTS in a pilot. And you know that at the end of each act, there needs to be a cliffhanger. So all you need to do is write towards that cliffhanger. Every scene should be moving that portion of the story towards that cliff.

Here, the end of Act 1 takes place on page 20. The end of Act 2 takes place on page 32. The end of Act 3 takes place on 41. The end of Act 4 on page 49. And the end of Act 5 takes place at the end of the script, page 60.

I don’t know why the acts are set up this way, with such a long first act. But I’m guessing that it gives you extra time to introduce all the main characters as well as their situations. Either way, it’s easier to keep the pace up if you’re writing inside of a small portion of pages. If you’re not using acts and just trying to get to page 60, you’ll likely write something with a similar urgency to Lodge 49.

So yeah, there’s no new ground being broken here. But wow is this a tight teleplay. There isn’t an inch of page space that’s wasted. Every moment is moving the story forward. If you’re a writer who’s been told that your scripts are slow or boring, you can learn a lot from this pilot.

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

What I learned: Don’t use the word that’s correct. Use the word that’s real. — Check out this line of dialogue:

“I’ve spent my entire adolescence sad and scared– thinking I’d never be a normal, happy kid…”

The line comes from Ellie, the daughter, complaining to her father after he retrieved her from a party. Why am I highlighting it? Because of the word “adolescence.” A 16 year-old wouldn’t use that word. And yet, I understand why it was chosen. As writers, we focus so much on getting the word CORRECT that we often overlook what the character would ACTUALLY SAY. In the writer’s mind, Ellie’s sadness and fear began with the death of her mother, which occurred at the beginning of her “adolescence.” Hence, it technically makes sense to use that word. But dialogue isn’t technical. It’s off the cuff. It’s messy. The wrong words are often used. You have to honor that when your characters are speaking. It’s more likely Ellie would say something like, “I’ve spent my entire life…” or “I’ve spent so long…” or “I’ve spent the last five years terrified…” It’s easy to forget this. Use the word that’s real, not the one that’s technically correct.

In one of the most improbable crossovers in recent screenplay memory, Blonde Ambition is “Once” meets “The Social Network.” But is it as good as either of those movies?

Genre: Biopic
Premise: Set in New York in the 80s, Blonde Ambition tells the story of how Madonna hustled her way to stardom.
About: Today we have the NUMBER ONE script of the 2016 Black List. The project is still in an unknown stage, probably because navigating a biopic about a living person is always tricky. Madonna is aware of the project, and had this to say about it: “Nobody knows what I know and what I have seen. Only I can tell my story. Anyone else who tries is a charlatan and a fool looking for instant gratification without doing the work. This is a disease in our society.” It’s not clear whether she’s actually read the script or just been told about it. So Madonna, if you’re out there? I’m doing the work for you. The writer, Elyse Hollander, worked as an intern on The Rotten Tomatoes Show but is still, even now, a newbie in the screenwriting world. I believe she’s working on an assignment for Universal, which is the studio that bought her script.
Writer: Elyse Hollander
Details: 118 pages

I have finally placed myself in the headspace to read the Madonna biopic. It only took me, what, two years? But I’m finally ready to commit. You may be asking, “Why, Carson? Oh why has it been so hard for you to read this script? It’s the number 1 script on the Black List!” That’s true. However, I’ve never been a Madonna fan. I may go so far as to say she annoys the hell out of me.

However, there HAS to be something to this script if it beat out every other script in 2016. And I can’t deny that Madonna’s an interesting person. I just hope there’s a good story to be told here and it isn’t yet another: “Famous Figure + screenplay = Black List,” which is a formula we’ve seen used and abused too many times by this point. I’m going to leave my biases behind and read this script Like a Reader Virgin. Let us begin…

It’s the 80s, New York. A fearless and brazen 24 year old Madonna is a year into trying to become a pop star with her band, The Emmys. Her boyfriend, Dan, is the guitarist and contains 1/1000th of Madonna’s drive. The other members are bassist Ed, Dan’s brother, and Stephen, Madonna’s best friend from back home.

Here’s the problem. The Emmys, like the broadcast, kind of suck. They’re cliche. They’re sloppy. The only reason they’re on anyone’s radar in the first place is because Madonna is a hustler. If there’s one thing you learn from this script, it’s that Madonna could fucking hustle. She spends every waking second breaking into rooms, charging into clubs, forcing her way into meetings, to tell important people to listen to her band.

After everyone rejects them, Madonna finds the hottest DJ in New York, a Latino guy named Jellybean, and forces him to listen to her music. He doesn’t like it, but agrees that with a remix, it could be good. Perfect. That’s exactly what Madonna wanted. “You knock this out of the park and you can produce my next album,” she tells him. Jellybean laughs at her bravado. She’s saying she’ll help him? He’s the star here! Regardless, the two start hanging out together, remixing her album, and falling in love.

The first couple of songs become hits and out of nowhere, Madonna is the hottest thing in music. All the record producers who were ignoring her before are now begging to work with her on her next album. Jellybean is thrilled because, you know, he’s going to produce that album.

Jellybean falls further and further in love with Madonna, asking her to marry him and even getting her pregnant. But what Jellybean doesn’t know is that Madonna isn’t so into him anymore and is secretly producing a separate album with songs she thinks are more commercial. (SPOILERS!) In the end, Madonna dumps Jellybean, fires him, and tells him she’s aborted his baby. Her plans to take over the world, she informs him, don’t involve a man dictating her actions. “Express yourself” indeed Material Girl. Ouch!

Madonna and Jellybean

Okay. I concede.

This was good.

Actually, it wasn’t good. It was really good.

I think I was expecting a rah-rah cheer-cheer ode to the Queen of Pop. I did not expect something so relentless and cold. I mean, wow. They went dark here. And it’s pretty clear to me why Real Madonna isn’t offering her blessing.

But there’s a lot to learn here as a screenwriter so let’s get into it.

For starters, it was smart to pick a contained timeframe to tell the story in. Biopics that span too many years suffer from “balloon pop” syndrome. Every time you jump ahead a few years, the balloon you’ve been puffing air into pops, forcing you to start over with a new balloon. It takes effort for the audience to watch that balloon blow up again. So it’s preferable if you keep it continuous, building the story gradually inside one time frame so that by the end of the movie, we’re desperate to finally see that balloon explode.

That’s exactly what happens here. It takes place over about six months. And the story builds beautifully. I can’t stress this enough. A lot of writers don’t pay attention to build. But building is the key to keeping the reader invested. Every ten pages we should feel like we’re a little closer to the goal and the stakes are a little higher than before. Blonde Ambition aced this test. And I think it’s specifically because it picked the perfect timeframe to tell the story in.

As for the character of Madonna, they did a great job as well. You have to understand that I hate Madonna. I find her to be the worst version of an attention whore. But that’s not the Madonna we see here. This Madonna is a hustler. And audiences love hustlers, almost as much as they love underdogs. You can’t not root for someone who’s spending every waking second fighting to fulfill their dreams. It’s impossible.

I also loved what they did with the midpoint twist. The midpoint twist is the moment around the midpoint of the screenplay where you up the stakes considerably or inject something unexpected, which helps turn the second half of the movie into something different. You do this so that the movie doesn’t get repetitive. Hollander does this with the introduction of Jellybean. We move away from Madonna running around New York and hustling, to her and Jellybean producing an album, falling in love, and eventually, falling apart. This structure kept the script unpredictable.

But where this script really elevates itself is in how fearlessly it treats its main character. Instead of going “movie,” the script goes “real.” We get the good of Madonna early, and we get the bad late. And that’s why the script worked for me. Because it wasn’t afraid to go to that dark truthful place, a place where so many other biopic writers shy away from when dealing with a person this beloved. I mean when Madonna was just like, (paraphrasing) “I got rid of our baby, dude, and by the way you’re dumped” — my mouth hit the floor.

I don’t have anything bad to say about the script. To be honest, if it covered a subject matter I was more into, I might’ve given it a GENIUS. It’s only because I don’t like this world and I don’t like Madonna that it “only” gets an IMPRESSIVE. Oh, and this is proof to all doubters – If you write a good script, it doesn’t matter if someone’s into that genre or not. People will respond!

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

What I learned: Create relationships that write the dialogue for you – Remember what we talked about last week. Conflict is essential to making scenes work, particularly when it comes to dialogue. Conversations are just more interesting when characters aren’t on the same page as each other. With that in mind, try to build conflict right into your relationships. By doing so, you ensure that whenever those characters get together, the conflict is ready to go. In this case, Madonna has this junior manager, Nick, who despises her. She’s always asking for things. She doesn’t realize her band isn’t good enough for him to promote. For this reason, whenever Madonna finds him (he never agrees to meet her – she always finds him), he’s trying to get away. He’s trying to get through the conversation as quickly as possible so he doesn’t have to deal with her anymore. There’s one scene, for example, where Nick is out on a date and Madonna just shows up and tells him to help her with something. In these cases, conflict is built into the scene. Madonna is going to push. Nick is going to resist. Boom. You have strong dialogue GUARANTEED because of how you constructed this relationship from the get-go. So if you want better dialogue, build relationships into the story that are founded on pre-existing conflict between the characters.

Genre: Crime Drama/Action
Logline (from writer): When a routine prison transfer turns into a precarious hostage situation at a rural gas station & grill, a curmudgeonly small-town sheriff on the cusp of retirement must team up with a hardened Native American inmate to dodge gunfire and keep each other alive as a rebellious pack of insubordinates seek to finish off the ‘old guard.’
Why You Should Read: Here’s what the Blacklist’s story analyst had to say about my script: “The story is rife with conflict and remains engaging from beginning to end, and the dialogue is really strong. The relatively contained setting also makes this a more affordable film to produce – especially considering the amount of action – which can open up wider range of potential financiers. And, the best crime dramas can absolutely draw large audiences; this is a very commercial film.”

I feel like it’s ‘almost there’; it’s been read by some reputable companies (like Screen Gems, Blumhouse, WWE Studios, etc.), and it’s helped me get some of my other scripts in a few reading piles on the strength of my writing voice, but thus far, no one’s pulled the trigger and said ‘Yes, I’d like to option this’.

It’s a little different (which can be refreshing in a genre like crime drama / action); it borrows more cues from movies like ‘The Breakfast Club’ than it does from movies like ‘Die Hard’. I want to keep the emphasis on the characters in a way that isn’t boring, in the sense that ‘The Breakfast Club’ isn’t primarily a movie about a bunch of kids trying to sneak out of detention (although they do, in fact, sneak out of the library at one point). Would love any and all feedback from the Scriptshadow universe. Thanks in advance for your consideration!
Writer: Trevor Lanz
Details: 104 pages

De Niro for Chuck?

Usually, after I finish reading the Amateur Friday winner, I know exactly what I’m going to say. But this one was different. The script was well-written. It was coated with that professional screenwriter sheen. But it wasn’t landing with me the way I needed it to. So I went back to the comments to see what you guys thought, and that helped.

The conclusion I came to is that there’s something a little too comfortable about the execution. While I never knew exactly where the story was going, I had a good idea. And that’s because the plot never evolved that much. A big reason for this was that we’re sitting in the same spot for 50 pages – two characters behind a truck. That’s hard to make work, even for a 1 Mil Per Assignment screenwriter.

The Last Shot follows 76 year old diabetic sheriff Chuck Massey on his last day of work. Chuck plans to sit back, listen to the background noise of the phone ringing every 90 minutes, then call it a career.

Unfortunately, the state police call in to ask Chuck and his sketchy deputy, Travis, to watch a transferred prisoner for 30 minutes while the driving team has their mandated lunch break in their town.

So Chuck and Travis head over to The Last Stop diner, where our transfer truck is having lunch, and wouldn’t you know it, four bad men – Snipes, Kyle, Big Pabi, and J-Lo – are there to kill the prisoner being transferred, a Native American named Johnny, who Chuck ironically put in prison a decade ago.

Chuck is able to stave off the bad guys and save Johnny from the initial kill, but now the bad guys and Deputy Travis – who it turns out was working with them all along – are inside with a dozen hostages. Travis yells out at his boss that he’s going to start killing hostages unless he can kill Johnny, who we find out is going to rat out a bunch of drug dealers.

Chuck and Johnny then spend the entire day in a stand-off with the crew, hiding behind the transfer truck, and trying to come up with a plan so that Crazy Travis doesn’t keep killing people. Eventually, it’s “shit or get off the pot” time, they charge in, violence ensues, and they’re able to kill Evil Travis.

However, now that the bad guys are taken care of, Chuck and Johnny’s alliance is over. Put plainly, that means Johnny doesn’t need Chuck’s help anymore. Will he continue on with Chuck to court? Or will he kill him and run free?

So yeah, I can tell you where this script ran into trouble with me.

It was about 20 pages into Chuck and Johnny sitting behind that truck. I’ll tell you why. When you’re staying with two characters for that long, the audience needs to understand what the conflict is between those characters that needs to be resolved. We need this because these characters are the story within the story. Their “end point” is essentially the climax of the film. So if I don’t know what it is they’re trying to come to an agreement on, then the story has no direction.

I never knew what that was with these two. I’m not saying the writer didn’t know. But I didn’t. And if I don’t have that, then I’m just listening to two people talk for 50 pages. And that’s hard for a writer to keep entertaining.

I’ll give you a popular relationship example of what I mean. Iron Man and Spider-Man. What are they always going on about? Spider-Man thinks he’s ready. Iron Man is trying to explain to him that it takes time. That’s their dynamic in Homecoming. That’s their dynamic in Infinity War. Wherever they go, everything comes back to that conversation. And so I always knew what it was they needed to resolve.

Plus, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to put two characters in that limited of a location for that long. You’re making things so hard on yourself as a writer. This script needed a couple of more plot twists in the second act. And it needed a couple more location changes for those two as well.

I mean I love how confident Trevor was that he thought he could get away with this. But you have to be realistic.

I also agree with a few of the commenters that Travis’s plan was murky. I eventually figured it out. But way later (page 75?) than I needed to. I mean, I wasn’t even clear, at first, that Travis wanted Chuck to hand over Johnny so they could kill him. Or why Travis wanted Johnny killed in the first place.

I know screenwriters are afraid of big exposition scenes but when it comes to “THE PLAN,” that’s something that’s got to to be clear to the audience from the start, unless you’re deliberately keeping plot points a mystery, which I don’t think was the case here (I may be wrong).

A big change that could really help this script is to make Chuck and Johnny more active. They end up sitting there doing NOTHING for hours on end, while innocent people keep getting shot (Travis kills a hostage every half-hour that Chuck doesn’t turn Johnny over). Going the simple route of having these two DO MORE to fix their situation, you get them out from behind that truck and you have yourself a more evolving plotline, as opposed to a static one.

I should also point out that this is a hard analysis to be 100% sure on. Because if I liked the relationship stuff more, I probably wouldn’t have minded that we spent so much time behind the truck. But because I didn’t, I focused more on the lack of variety in the plot. So you never know. Maybe you fix the characters stuff and then the plotting isn’t as much of a problem.

Still, my gut’s telling me that a more active plot with additional twists and more movement is what the doctor ordered. Despite that criticism, I want to be clear that I think Trevor is a strong writer. I’m not surprised he ran away from the competition. But he specifically asked why we think the script has hit a wall. And this would be my guess.

Script Link: The Last Shot

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

What I learned: Static Introductions – A static introduction is when you introduce a character just to introduce him. He isn’t doing anything. These are the hardest characters for readers to remember, even if they’re described well. Readers associate characters with their actions, so it’s best to introduce characters doing something if possible. Bad guys Snipes, Kyle, Big Pabi, and J-Lo all had static introductions, so it wasn’t a surprise that I never had a good feel for them as characters throughout the script.

I was chatting with a screenwriter who’s fairly new to the medium. He’d written a Breaking Bad type pilot that was good. However, it had the potential to be a lot better if he improved his scene-writing. There were too many scenes in the pilot that were treading water. Conversations that didn’t have enough bite to them. Character introductions that didn’t do much beyond introduce the character. Scenes that set up relevant information but not in an exciting way.

As we talked about this, I became sympathetic to his plight in that I remember going through the same thing myself. And I think all writers do. We initially believe that a scene is a cozy placemat for relevant story information. It’s a means to an end – a way to convey a thought, introduce a character, make a few jokes, establish a relationship, expose relevant plot points. A scene, in those early stages of writing, is treated casually. I mean, there are so many of them, right?

It’s only later on in the journey when you realize how quickly a reader can become bored (3 boring scenes in a row and you’re done) that you begin valuing individual scenes. Scenes should be treated like self-contained pieces of entertainment that drudge up some kind of reaction from the reader. And you achieve this in one of two ways. By injecting conflict. Or by creating a scenario.

The above scene is taken from the Season 1 pilot pf Fargo. This is the perfect example of a scene dictated by conflict. And it’s not over-the-top obvious conflict, which I think is how most screenwriters view conflict. The conflict is understated. It plays underneath the surface in a passive-aggressive manner. Regardless of how the conflict is presented, the important thing is that IT IS PRESENTED.

A new writer may have believed they had to introduce these characters in a normal light and get the reader used to them before writing a scene like this. But veteran writers know that you don’t have time for that. The clock starts ticking the second the reader starts reading. I’ve never met a reader who’s said, “I give the writer a few scenes to warm up before I start evaluating them.” No. The evaluation starts immediately.

And this scene is just perfect in its conflict-execution. The longer the scene goes on, the more Pearl is digging into Lester, passive-aggressively using his successful brother to get him to work harder. This is exactly how you use conflict to write a great scene.

Another great use of conflict comes later in the pilot when Malvo (the villain in the series), goes to get a hotel room. I want you to pay attention to this scene because 99% of new writers would write this in a basic straightforward “I’d like a room please” way. Note how Hawley adds a nice dose of conflict to the scene instead…

The other option you have when writing scenes is turning them into SCENARIOS. In a scenario, you are building a problem into a scene that needs to be resolved. While conflict scenes don’t require much structure, scenarios are like mini-movies. You have a beginning (introduce a problem), a middle (try to resolve it as obstacles arise), and an end (they either succeed or fail). A scenario could be the hero finds a dead body. The hero’s picked on by a bully. The landlord wants their money. You need to find a team of superheroes (Deadpool 2). A husband tells his wife he wants a divorce. Someone’s been bit by a zombie and they need you to kill them (Zombieland). You’re about to get married and the ex shows up. Your boyfriend left you alone in a house with his two creepy friends, who look like they’re up to no good (Revenge).

Here’s a good example of a SCENARIO in the Fargo pilot. It takes place later, after Lester kills his wife. Lester’s waiting for Malvo to come over to help him. However, police officer Vern unexpectedly shows up because he thinks Lester may be connected to an earlier murder in the story.

Any scene that isn’t dictated by conflict or a scenario should make you squirm. It should make you feel uneasy inside when writing it. Sometimes you have to write them. But they should only be used in specific circumstances. For example, if you just had a super-long intense scene, like the birth scene in A Quiet Place, you’ve earned a scene where the characters can just sit and talk. Err, well, maybe sit and sign language for that movie. But you get what I mean. Also, keep these scenes short. Any scene that’s absent of conflict or a scenario isn’t entertaining. So move through it quickly. And scenes with big reveals are exempt as well. For example, if John finally figures out who murdered his mother, you don’t need to worry about conflict or scenarios in that scene. The excitement of the reveal alone will carry the moment.

Other than that, use common sense. You’re trying to make every scene entertaining. These are the two most effective ways of doing so. If you’re not using them, you better have a darn good reason why. Good luck and go write some kick-ass scenes!