IT’S MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS THAN THE PLOT
I used to think plot was the only thing that mattered. If you could follow Blake Snyder’s famous beat sheet and hit every one one of his predetermined page-targets, you’d create a mathematically perfect screenplay. Eventually I realized that where the real power lies is in creating compelling characters. If you can make us like your hero, add depth to your characters, and execute arcs for your key characters, that’s where the magical recipe for success lies. The proof-is-in-pudding moment for me was when I realized there’s no such thing as a good well-plotted movie with weak characters. However, there are plenty of good movies with weak plots but great characters (Rushmore, Flight, The Wrestler, Whale Rider). Ideally, you want both. But great characters are the deodorant that covers up a smelly plot. (bonus: Here’s a quick way to add instant character depth. CONTRAST. If the quarterback of the football team is charming and popular, there’s no contrast. But if the quarterback of the football team is awkward and shy, there is. Contrast creates instant depth).
PROSE IS ONE OF THE LEAST IMPORTANT COMPONENTS OF SCREENWRITING
I remember once spending an 8 hour day trying to get the prose just right on a single screenplay page. What I learned many years later is that no one gives a crap about your ability to write beautifully if they’re bored to tears by your story. It’s always story first, guys. Get them hooked and they won’t care how average the writing is. One of the most talented prose-writers I know started a blog a long time ago. Naturally, I was excited to read it. After a week, I never went back to it again because, while the prose was magnificent, the content was boring as f*&%. Focus on the content. That’s what readers respond to.
DON’T TRY AND BE A SYSTEM DISRUPTER
When I first got into screenwriting, all I cared about was re-writing the rulebook. I wanted to tell stories backwards, break the fourth wall, introduce an entirely new type of formatting I thought was better (I’m not kidding). As exciting as all of this was, it wasn’t getting me any better at what mattered – writing a compelling dramatic story that hooked readers and kept them interested until “The End.” If you’re trying something different because you think it will make your story better, go for it. If you’re trying something different because you’re raging against the machine, turn around and start over.
COMPLEXITY IS FOOL’S GOLD – KEEP IT SIMPLE
I can’t emphasize this enough. It’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned throughout this journey. When we start writing, not only do we want to disrupt the system, but we want to write the single greatest screenplay that’s ever been written. So we add tons of characters, lots of subplots, a timeframe that goes on for years, flashbacks, flash-forwards, a narrator or two. All you’re doing when you add these things is making your story hard to navigate, for both you and us. The simplicity of movies like Deadpool, Nightcrawler, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Rocky, Logan, Once, Baby Driver, Her, Get Out – that’s what you should be striving for. Yes, there are complex movies out there that are wonderful. The Godfather 2. The Shawshank Redemption. But those scripts take an amazing amount of skill to pull off – more than you realize. So save those for the second half of your career. For now, focus on writing a simple well-told story.
PRESENTATION IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOU THINK
I used to be of the mindset that my writing was such a gift to readers that if I made a spelling, grammar, or formatting mistake, they would look past it. Why wouldn’t they, I thought. What’s important is the bigger picture – whether the script is good or not. Now that I’m on the other side, I know that mistakes are the easiest (and quickest) way to weed out beginners. Writers who have been doing this for awhile take pride in their work and make sure that whatever they put out there is presented as professionally as possible. There are instances in the thousands of scripts I’ve read where a script was good despite a sloppy presentation. But I can count them on one hand.
DIALOGUE IS IMPORTANT, BUT NOT AS IMPORTANT AS THE SITUATION YOU COME UP WITH TO INSPIRE THE DIALOGUE
Unlike prose, good dialogue is actually important. However, beginners go about writing dialogue the wrong way, focusing on clever witty banter as opposed to the real secret to good dialogue – unresolved issues between characters. All of the best dialogue is built around two (or more) characters who have unresolved business. Sometimes they battle each other straight up on that business (John McClane and his wife arguing about their marriage when he gets to LA). Other times they keep their issues to themselves, resulting in conversations dominated by subtext (imagine two old lovers meeting for coffee for the first time in years who talk about how wonderful their lives are when what they really want to say is how much they miss each other). So focus less on trying to be Diablo Cody and more on building scenarios that inspire interesting conversation.
THE MOST POWERFUL TOOL IN SCREENWRITING IS CONFLICT
Conflict makes every aspect of your script more interesting. Conflict within one’s self. Conflict with outside forces. Conflict between people. The variations of conflict – full-on fighting, passive-aggressiveness, ignored problems, dramatic irony. Think of a script as an empty tube of toothpaste and you need to get every last inch of that toothpaste out if you’re going to brush your teeth. Put pressure (conflict) on every square inch of that tube (your script). That’s what’s going to bring out the best in your story (as well as a bright smile).
SPLITTING THE SECOND ACT IN TWO
For the longest time, the second act was terrifying to me. It was this giant 60 page black hole with no form or purpose. I would fudge my way through it on every script. Needless to say, the results weren’t ideal. However, once I learned to split the second act in two (two sets of 30 pages), writing scripts became a lot easier, especially if you map out a mid-point twist (a major event in your story that throws the plot off-kilter at the midpoint) ahead of time. Also, remember that the second act is about conflict. So if you keep throwing conflict at your hero, both from outside forces, from other characters, and from within the character, you should get out of your second act unscathed.
FIGURE OUT THE ENDING BEFORE YOU START WRITING
It’s fine if you’re anti-outline. Everyone has their own creative process. Although I’d argue that 99% of the people who refuse to outline are people who’ve never tried it. But that’s a discussion for another time. At the very least, you should have your ending figured out before you start writing. Screenplays aren’t like novels. They’re much more focused. We need to get to a very specific place within two hours. And, over time, I realized that when you don’t know where you’re headed, you get lost. And the only way to find your way back, is to write like 20 drafts. In order to save yourself a lot of time, figure out your ending first. And I promise you, writing your script is going to be a lot easier.
THE TWO BEST MINI-PIECES OF ADVICE I EVER RECEIVED WERE “SHOW DON’T TELL, IDIOT” and “MORE SETUPS AND PAYOFFS, MORON”
Both these tools are small, but they easily give you the most bang for your screenwriting buck. If you have the choice of writing a kid who can’t stop talking about his dead father or giving that same kid his dead father’s watch that he fiddles with every time he thinks of him, go with the latter. Show don’t tell. Also, the best moments in a script tend to come as a payoff to an earlier setup. One of the greatest endings in movie history, The Shawshank Redemption, builds its legendary finale off a series of payoffs (hiding the hammer in the bible, the Rita Hayworth Poster, the buried box by the tree). Just remember an important rule when using these: With great power comes great responsibility.
Carson does feature screenplay consultations, TV Pilot Consultations, and logline consultations. Logline consultations go for $25 a piece or 5 for $75. You get a 1-10 rating, a 200-word evaluation, and a rewrite of the logline. I highly recommend not writing a script unless it gets a 7 or above. All logline consultations come with an 8 hour turnaround. 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!
Okay Sci-Fi heads. You got a wild one today. Midnight Special meets Children of Men. Who’s in???
Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: A 16 year-old boy with special powers accidentally kills his father, forcing he and his mother to go on the run to escape authorities.
About: This script finished fairly high on the 2015 Black List. The writer, Mattson Tomlin, also had another script on The Black List that I reviewed, that one a comedy about trying to adapt a Jason Bourne movie. So this is a totally different subject matter. Tomlin is Romanian born and has written and directed a ton of short films.
Writer: Mattson Tomlin
Details: 116 pages
Have you heard? Netflix plans to release EIGHTY MOVIES next year. Eight. And then a Zero after it. 80. To give you some perspective on that, Warner Brothers, one of the major studios, released 20 movies this year. How the heck did some janky DVD rental outfit become bigger than all the Hollywood studios in under a decade?
There are a couple of ways to look at this. The first is that Netflix films aren’t very good (with a couple of exceptions). So do we really want 70 more subpar Netflix films? But for those of you reading this blog, this is AMAAAAAAAZING news. 80 films a year means anywhere from 200 to 400 screenwriters working. When you think that five years ago, this avenue didn’t even exist to screenwriters, every writer should be jumping for joy.
Speaking of, “Boy” is the exact kind of movie Netflix likes. A mid-budget genre film that’s a slightly off-center. So even though I’m going to go on one of my “sloppy screenwriting” rants after the plot breakdown, I’ll be the first to admit that these types of scripts now have an outlet.
We can tell right away that 16 year-old Mike Madnick isn’t living the typical teenage life. Sure, he goes to high school. He has a beautiful girlfriend. But Mike never goes to parties. He isn’t on any teams. He doesn’t do extracurricular activities. As soon as school is over, Mike goes home. Almost like he’s afraid of what people might find out about him.
Meanwhile, in the larger world, a new subset of people are being recognized as having a z-chromosome. This gives them special abilities, most of which revolve around mind-reading stuff, or being able to do stuff with their mind. And as cool as that is, if you happen to come out and admit you have a z-chromosome, you’re heavily discriminated against.
If you put two and two together, you’ve figured out that Mike has one of these chromosomes. And one night, after a fight with his parents, Mike sends out some sort of mind-shockwave that accidentally kills his dad. His mom, Marla, quickly buries her husband, and goes on the run with Mike.
FBI agent David Klyce becomes the point man on Mike’s case, and uses the kind of tracking abilities that’d make Tommy Lee Jones jealous, to follow Mike and Marla. Marla brings Mike to an old friend’s house, who happens to be working with the leader of an “Underground Railroad” for z-chromosomers.
However, once they team up with the Railroad, they sense that this might be less about helping Mike escape, and more about what Mike can do for them. Mother and son will have to make a decision to either trust these folks, or go back out on their own, a risky proposition with a determined Klyce on their heels.
A couple of years ago I reviewed Jeff Nichols’ screenplay, Midnight Special, which covers a lot of the same ground as Boy (a kid with special powers, on the run with his family). My problem with that script, which would go on to majorly bomb, was that the core conceit of the film – the kids powers – were vague.
He had powers but what were they? That was never clear. And when a major component (or in that case, THE major component) of your script is vague, it’s like trying to tell your story through a muddy windshield. The audience can’t see the road ahead. And if you don’t clean up the windshield at some point, they ask to get out of the car.
“Boy” is better plotted than Midnight Special. There’s more direction and clarity in the goals and stakes of the journey. But just like Midnight Special, I never got a handle on Mike’s powers. He was able to… mentally… make earthquakes? And sometimes when he got mad he was strong?
I’m not saying it’s impossible to make a script work where superpowers are vague. But you’re certainly not doing yourself any favors. The reason superhero movies are so popular is because the powers are so clear and simple. We know that when Bruce Banner gets mad, he becomes a giant green beast. We know that Spider-Man has the powers of a spider. Even superheroes with multiple powers, like Superman – the writers lay those powers out clearly (super strength, super sight, super hearing, he can fly).
The idea of a vaguely-powered character is not new. It’s been done a lot. And I think where writers go wrong with it is that they try to figure out what those powers are during the script. So they’re figuring it out at the same speed as you. You can almost sense them being like, ‘Oh yeah, they can do this.’
As the writer, you are God. You have to be all-knowing. And even if you don’t want to reveal your character’s powers right away, YOU better know what those powers are. Because there’s a difference. I know when the writer is confident about who his characters are and when he’s not. And if I sense that lack of confidence, I lose trust in the writer, and, subsequently, the story.
I’ll give you an example of both sides of the coin, since in every sci-fi review, I need to reference The Matrix. In The Matrix, they went through a painstakingly focused series of scenes to show what Neo could and could not do inside the Matrix. We understood that he had the power to move faster than others, become stronger than others, and also manipulate objects if he was really tuned in.
One of the reasons the Matrix sequels sucked was because they ditched that attention to detail. There’s that infamous moment at the end of the second film where Neo is in the gutters of the real world and the sentinels are coming for him and he throws a power wave at them, even though he’s not inside the Matrix, the only place where his “powers” exist. It was stupid. It made no sense. They never really explained it. You could point to that moment as being the nail in the coffin for the series. Once you start getting clumsy with powers and the rules that govern them, the audience gets frustrated. They stop trusting that you have a plan.
Getting back to Boy. Look, I’ve established in numerous reviews how I feel about ambiguity and vagueness. I’m of the belief that you want to be clear with your structure and the rules that govern your story, especially in sci-fi, where that kind of stuff can go south quickly. So I’m probably not the best person to judge a screenplay like this. I know that there are readers who treat ambiguity as a puzzle that allows them to participate in the story. Which I have no problem with. But for me, I can’t get past this stuff. I strongly believe that a clear set rules are imperative to a good script.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Think about some of the less popular superhero characters. Most of the time, it’s because you’re not clear what their power is. “Vision” in The Avengers, for example. The maroon guy with a cape. Nobody remembers him because nobody knows what the hell his powers are. Clarity is your best friend, guys. Not just in superpowers. But in all aspects of screenwriting.
Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: In the year 2491, a Citizen Kane-like business mogul attempts to do something that hasn’t been successfully achieved in 80 years – murder a man without getting caught.
About: Before Oliver Stone became a visionary director, he was one of the most coveted writers in Hollywood. This was one of his early assignments, an adaptation of the science-fiction novel, “The Demolished Man,” the very first Hugo Award Winner (in 1953).
Writer: Oliver Stone (based on the novel by Alfred Bester)
Details: 122 pages – 1980 draft
Opening these old screenplays is a bit like opening an ancient scroll. You have no idea what you’re going to find. Another language? An entirely new screenwriting format?? Remember, this was pre-1990s, before the screenwriting market was deluged with How-To books. This meant that screenwriters took their time and wrote screenplays more like they wrote novels, with less emphasis on getting the reader in and out in 90 minutes.
It’s also nice to see a sci-fi adaptation from Stone, someone you don’t typically associate with the genre. However, as soon as you start reading “Demolished Man,” you can tell why he became attracted to the material. We have a CEO of an enormous company as our protagonist. We have money, corruption, and power. You could argue this is Wall Street in the year 2491. Let’s check it out.
Ben Reich, the CEO of Reich Industries, is a seriously wealthy man. He’s got products on Mars, on Jupiter’s moons, he’s even got an outpost at the edge of the galaxy. But Reich’s got a problem. His nemesis, Craye D’Courtney, is stealing all of his business. If he doesn’t do something soon, Reich Industries is going to be in some deep shit.
So Reich comes up with a plan. Murder Craye. That may be easy in 2017. But 2491 is a lot different. In the future, we have these people called “Espers” who have the ability to read minds. This has made murder impossible to get away with. An Esper can come in, read your mind, know you’re guilty, and it’s straight to the electric chair. Or whatever chair they use in 2491. The… laser… beam… chair?
However, Reich hires a first-class Esper, Tate, to stick with him throughout the murder and its aftermath. You see, Espers can protect against the mind-reading powers of other Espers. This allows Reich to successfully murder Craye D’Courtney at a party, and when the Esper police come by, they’re none the wiser on who did it.
One problem, though. As Reich was killing Craye, Craye’s daughter entered the room, saw the murder, and ran. So now Reich’s got a witness to the murder on the run. Which means he must find her and kill her too.
This begins a cat and mouse game between Reich and the lead Esper on the case, Liz Powell. Both of them go hunting through a grimy 2491 New York City to find this girl, a girl we learn nobody knew existed in the first place. Powell’s able to catch up with her first, but only after she’s been memory-wiped by a scientist who’s pacing her through a “regrowth” so that she can overcome the crippling shock of seeing her father killed.
Reich realizes that once the daughter regains her senses, she’s going to sing, which means Reich has to kill Powell before the daughter reboots. This forces the two sides into a showdown, where Powell recruits all the Espers to perform a mass Esper mind meld on Reich, in the hopes of stripping him of his monopolistic hold on New York, the U.S., the planet, and the solar system, for good.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say, if this is what people considered “award-winning science fiction” in 1953, Bester didn’t have much competition. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a script go south faster than this one. One second we’re engrossed in a compelling science-fiction murder investigation with tons of fresh ideas. The next we’re lost in some kind of bizarre drug-induced fever dream.
I’m talking this went from Philip K. Dick to L Ron Hubbard.
I coulda swore LSD didn’t hit the American streets until the 60s. Apparently, Bester got an early shipment. I mean, you expect this kind of stuff from Stone, who’d rather write a 20 page dream sequence than well-plotted third act. But Stone was working off material that was trippy long before he was.
Maybe it had to happen this way. This is how sci-fi began. Writers thought you threw as many ideas as you could possibly come up with into a giant novel stew and just the pure imagination of it all was satisfying to a public who had limited access to interesting ideas.
In time, we’ve learned that the “everything-and-the-kitchen-sink” approach rarely works. The best science fiction movies are simple. A clear set of rules are established early – such as being able to manipulate time and space a la The Matrix – then you spend the rest of the movie exploiting that simple rule-set.
The Esper stuff was interesting because it was a fresh way to look at murder. How do you murder someone if the detectives can read your mind? That’s a simple premise. They then exploited that premise. You solve this problem by employing a counter-Esper, someone who can block out the investigator’s powers. You’ve got a movie there.
Bester, before he went insane, also made the crafty decision to introduce the daughter into the mix. You see, if he doesn’t do that, this plot doesn’t have a purpose. The movie would be about Reich hoping the cops didn’t figure out he was the murderer. Think about that for a second. What is a character who’s “hoping something doesn’t happen” doing the whole movie? A whole lot of nothing.
Because the daughter witnessed the murder and escaped, Reich now has a goal – find and kill the daughter before she can identify him. A strong goal makes your hero ACTIVE, which gives your plot THRUST, which almost always, assuming you’ve done your job on the character end, results in an entertaining story.
Demolished Man is one of the few times this combination DIDN’T result in an entertaining story. And that’s because the writer kept throwing a bunch of random weird science-fiction shit at the story, further complicating things and taking us away from the core dramatic question – which was: would our main character get away with murder?
The daughter is captured by some scientist and reprogrammed to grow up from baby to adult in three weeks? What in the living fuch?? Reich is placed under some mind meld where one-by-one, the elements of the universe are stripped away from him until he doesn’t know which way is up? Uhhhh… are you kidding me? What happened to the story?????
That’s the key question, guys. And it’s the one you should always be asking yourself with whatever you’re writing. Am I sticking with the story? If you’re going off and screwing around with dream sequences and weird subplots that do nothing but distort the story’s purpose, you’re losing. You’re losing at screenwriting. Stay on track. Stay focused. Storytelling is simple-telling.
And one more thing. There are people who think I’m too hard on creativity. That when “challenging” material that doesn’t fit into the “proper” screenwriting paradigm like Baby Driver or Blade Runner 2049 or Upstream Color come around, I wrongly condemn them. That’s not true. I like challenging material if it’s a WELL-TOLD STORY. I loved Room. I liked Colossal. I liked Swiss Army Man. I loved Memento.
There’s a difference between mental masturbation and having a plan to tell a good story uniquely. Unfortunately, Demolished Man falls into the former category. And that’s too bad. Because it had the beginnings of a really cool film.
Screenplay link: Demolished Man
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I’ve read about 100 scripts now with futuristic New Yorks. So I’ll give you some advice based on what I’ve found. Just making New York bigger than it is now isn’t enough. Giving New York a sprawling seedy underbelly isn’t enough. Those two things are in every single future New York I’ve read. If you’re going to write about future cities, you have to look for imaginative ways that redefine how we look at them. Try to outthink your competition. Ask yourself, “Is this thing that I’m adding something that nobody else has thought of before?” If not, keep trying. In Demolished Man’s New York, the buildings had gotten so incredibly tall, no sun reached the city anymore. It was all shadows. So they installed these giant artificial “Sun Embers” throughout the city to keep it lit during the day. I’d never seen that before. That’s the kind of imagination I want from you guys.
Get those Horror Amateur Scripts in! This Friday is Amateur Offerings: Horror Edition! E-mail carsonreeves3@gmail.com with a title, logline, genre, and why we should read your horror script – and don’t forget to include a PDF of your screenplay!
Genre: Fairy Tale
Premise: When a prince sets off on a journey with his princess-to-be to lift a spell that’s made her really boring, he discovers a shocking reality about their existence.
About: This script finished in the middle of the pack of last year’s Black List. Although she doesn’t yet have a produced credit, writer Cat Vasko parlayed this Black List showing into a seat in the Godzilla/King Kong writer’s room. How awesome is that!? Get on that Black List, guys and gals, and you could be writing inside some of the biggest franchises in Hollywood within a year.
Writer: Cat Vasko
Details: 105 pages
Writing is hard.
And one of the hardest things about it is keeping the faith.
The reason so many writers quit is because they can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.
What they don’t realize is that if they keep writing, keep practicing, keep learning, they’re going to get better. And, at some point, their skill level is going to surpass that which is required to make it in this business.
There’s a saying I came across recently: Every fish worth catching is going to wiggle. That big breakthrough is the fish you’re trying to catch. But it’s a fighter. It’s going to fight you the whole way. Don’t give up. Cause when you finally catch it, it’s all going to be worth it.
Speaking of feeling good, I need to feel good after last night’s Cubs game. What’s up with our bullpen?? Sheesh. Time for a light and fluffy crepe of a screenplay to bring a smile to these 95 degrees in LA lips.
Winnifred is what’s known as a “Lady-In-Waiting,” which is a fancy way of saying she’s a potential princess’s servant. Her master, as it were, is a woman known as Generica, who’s currently in crisis mode as she prepares, like every other eligible lady, to try and land the studly Prince Prescott.
The thing is, Winnifred isn’t exactly Lady-In-Waiting material. She dances to the beat of her own drum, and that drum plays a song called, “Screw you guys, I’ll do whatever the hell I want.” Which is unfortunate, because it gets her fired.
That’s okay. Winnifred has always wanted to go on an adventure, and this is the perfect opportunity to follow her dream. So she wanders into a forest, gets caught in a storm, only to bump into Prince Prescott’s castle. Prescott, who’s surprisingly cool, invites her in, and immediately falls for her feisty YOLO demeanor.
Prescott’s servants like Winnifred, but she’s not refined enough to be a princess. So they bring in a “Fairy Hotmother,” to make her hot and princess-y. Unfortunately, Fairy Hotmother is new on the job and accidentally turns Winnifred into a princess drone who agrees with everything Prescott says.
Determined to rid her of this annoying quality and bring back the girl he fell for, Prescott and Winnifred travel across desert, sea, and forest to find the “Book of All Undoing,” which is the only thing that can erase the spell.
However, once they get to it (major spoiler) they learn that they are one of the Grimm fairy tales, and that they have inadvertently derailed every other fairy tale on their way here. This has caused the world of fairy tales to slowly implode, which means a simple journey about saving a princess, has turned into a story about saving the world.
I was close to writing this one off.
Everything that was happening was stuff I’d seen before. And not just once, but many times. From Enchanted to Shrek to recent spec sale, Fairy Godmother. Basic fairy tale subversion stuff.
But then, around page 60, the characters come upon the Book of All Undoing, and bump into Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, where they learn they’ve disrupted the entire fairy tale universe.
There are couple of interesting things about this. First of all, Vasko has her main characters achieve the “big goal” by page 60. They’ve found what they’re looking for. What this does, is it creates the ultimate “Now what?” The audience has no idea where you’re going to go next, and that’s a powerful thing, when you have the audience on a string like that.
But here’s the catch. You have to have a plan in place for the script to go. I’ve read a lot of scripts that have the hero achieve their goal by the midpoint, or the 3/4 point, and they don’t have another plan in place. They don’t have a new goal to replace the old one. This leaves the last 50 pages feeling like a giant wandering mess. So, sure, you get your big “Now what?” moment. But it doesn’t matter. Cause you don’t know what’s coming next either.
Vasko introduces this secondary goal of saving the entire fairy tale universe that’s effective because it’s bigger than the previous goal. So even though we’ve solved our main script problem, we’re excited because we now have to solve an even bigger one.
I do wish this script had a little more character development though. When you’re writing fairy tales, you’re writing in the genre that invented character flaws. So you want to be big and clear with those.
For example, the only problem in Prescott’s life that I picked up on was that he felt like he was getting too old. There was a good opportunity to set up Prescott as a prince “in name only.” He couldn’t actually do any prince things because he was scared to leave the castle and be out in the real world. That way, going out on this adventure becomes more of a character-building experience, and that’s what you’re trying to do with scripts – is explore character. Build character.
But here’s an important note. Some of this was hinted at with Prescott – that he was scared to go on adventures. But it wasn’t hit on hard enough. And I see too many writers doing this with flaws. They’re way too subtle about them.
You can sometimes pull this off in more adult genres, like Drama. Those moviegoers tend to be more sophisticated and therefore can pick up on subtleties. But in comedy and fairy tales and action-adventure, you want to put flashing lights around your character flaws. Those are going to be explored in big on-the-nose ways.
The last thing I’ll say is to be careful about things that sound good in principle but are a challenge to execute. By placing this “boring” spell on Winnifred, that gives the plot purpose, since now Prescott must go on this journey to reverse the curse. However, you’re now stuck with 40 pages of a character (Winnifred) who just nods her head and says, “Whatever you please.” It takes away the best thing about Winnifred’s character, which is her personality.
I just want to remind you guys that rarely are choices black and white. For everything you gain with a choice, you’re going to lose something as well. So you want to weigh the consequences and decide if the losses are worth the gains.
But yeah, this script really surprised me with that twist, enough to reinvigorate my interest and keep me eagerly reading until the end. Which is why I thought it was worth the read. :)
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Character names create instant images in the readers’ heads, whether you want them to or not. This is actually why so many writers go with the name “John.” It’s because they want a name that’s so generic, it doesn’t conjure any images in the reader’s head. This allows the writer to create those images for you through his character’s actions. Anyway, here, we have Winnifred. That’s a perfect name for this character. It instantly conjures up an image of a homely looking unkempt woman, which was the writer’s intention. Had Winnifred’s name been, “Lucinda” or “Kassandra,” those names evoke completely different images. So think hard about what to name your characters!
Hollywood’s favorite game is the post-weekend box office analysis. OF COURSE they knew that Movie A was going to be huge. OF COURSE they knew that Movie B was going to bomb. Not only that, but they’ve got a whole host of reasons for why a movie succeeded or failed. Rarely do you have people coming out BEFORE THE WEEKEND saying, “This movie is going to be huge” or “This movie is going to bomb.” Nobody puts their money where their mouth is since being wrong about a film’s box office in this town is akin to being videotaped kicking puppies.
Well folks, Carson don’t play that game! I’m ready to tell you what’s going to float and what’s going to sink BEFORE THE WEEKEND IS OVER. And to spice things up, I’m going to pit movies against each other. One will succeed, one will fail. Which one is the hammer? Which one the nail? Look at that. A little Scriptshadow poetry in action. As is my typical warning to anyone reading this article: Prepare to be triggered. My philistine opinions don’t always match up with the masses. You’ve been warned. Now let’s do it!
MAINSTREAM COMEDY SHOWDOWN: DADDY’S HOME 2 VS. A BAD MOMS CHRISTMAS
What. The. Fuck. I mean, seriously. I want to know who was in the room when they decided that “Christmas” would be the ideal subject matter to explore a second Bad Moms. Comedy is supposed to be IRONIC! That’s why the first movie worked so well. When people think of moms, they think nice and sweet. Not “bad.” Hence: Irony. 10,000 things come to mind when you say “Moms,” before Christmas. This is such an odd choice that I don’t even know what to say about it.
On the flip side, Daddy’s Home took what was already a good premise and elevated it. Yes, it’s true, my friends. I’m a closet Daddy’s Home fan. There are many of us out there, hiding in our minivans, afraid to come out lest we be assaulted by Goddard and Scorsese disciples for not being true cinema geeks. But Will Ferrel hasn’t found a more perfectly suited role for his talents in five years. And the choice to make John Lithgow his ever-loving uber-geeky dad? Genius.
Daddy’s Home 2: Monster Hit
Bad Mom’s Christmas: Disappointing Failure
WINNER: DADDY’S HOME 2!
MASTER VS. PROTEGE SHOWDOWN: DOWNSIZING VS. SUBURBICON
Two projects that have some crossover elements. Matt Damon is in both films. Clooney starred in Payne’s The Descendants. George Clooney really really really wants to be the third Coen brother (Suburbicon is a Coen Brothers script). He really wants to be that hip unique director a la Alexander Payne. But he just isn’t. He doesn’t have the storytelling skill or the offbeat sensibilities to pull it off. Suburbicon didn’t work when I read it and all I’ve heard since is that it’s a huge mess. Clooney needs to stop directing and utilize those gene lottery winning looks by staying in front of the camera for as long as he can get away with it.
Now Downsizing happens to be a script I didn’t like either. But Alexander Payne’s been workshopping this screenplay for a decade now and I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt based on his past work. Downsizing is the epitome of the “strange attractor” principle we talk about so much on this site. It’s so weird and so unlike anything anybody’s seen before, I think audiences are going to show up to make this a surprise hit. Dare I say it will be Alexander Payne’s biggest hit ever.
Downsizing: Surprise Hit!
Suburbicon: Critical and Box Office Failure
WINNER: DOWNSIZING!
ASS-KICKING FEMALE SHOWDOWN: MOLLY’S GAME VS. THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI
Holy donkey cajones. Did I hear that Three Billboards actually won best picture at the Venice Film Festival? Either there were no other movies in contention or it was one of those classic “Eccentric Jury Member” make-ups where of course they voted a bad movie into the top prize. They had to in order to keep their “artist” street cred. This script sucked. And it didn’t even make sense. Half the time you’re wondering if it’s a true story. When you realize it isn’t, you wonder why they made it in the first place. It was just such a dumb idea. I’m guessing that whatever praise this movie receives is based on the fact that Francis McDormand is great in the role. And I’d expect nothing less from her. But even great performances can’t overcome bad scripts. And this was bad.
Meanwhile, over on Planet Sorkin, the center of the screenwriting universe, Sorkin shows how good writers actually write good scripts. Molly’s Game is a tour-de-force and it FINALLY gives the most invisible A-list actress in the world, Jessica Chastain, a role where she can break out and show what she’s made of. The only question with Molly’s Game was whether Sorkin could direct or not (this is his first directing gig) and based on the kinetic exciting trailer, my conclusion is that he did a damn fine job.
Three Billboards: Will die a quick death at the box office then fool some people into seeing it later when McDormand gets nominated. It may scrape up a few more dollars, but nobody’s going to like this enough to recommend it.
Molly’s Game: Will become a larger-than-expected hit and a big player at the Oscars.
WINNER: MOLLY’S GAME!
QUIRKY COMEDY SHOWDOWN: THE DISASTER ARTIST VS. I, TONYA
There isn’t a screenplay whose success I understood less in 2017 than I, Tonya’s. They took a made-for-tv docudrama, turned it into a feature, then added an Office-style mockumentary format? Every page was a “WTF is going on here??” moment. Bringing in the most beautiful actress working today, Australian Margot Robbie, to play an American chain-smoking puffy-faced self-described white trash queen only added to the absurdity of the project. It doesn’t bode well that Robbie admitted she had no idea this was a true story when she signed on. I don’t understand this project! Someone help me! Even scripts I’ve hated, I can still tell you why they got made. Three Billboards, for example. Great role for an actress. This one? No idea.
The Disaster Artist is the riskiest prediction I’m making today. We’re talking about a movie based on the making of a notoriously bad movie that only true cinema geeks have heard of. And because the marketing of the film is based entirely around James Franco’s depiction of the star of that infamous film, Tommy Wisseau, you wonder if anyone outside of “The Room” fans are going to get it. But I have a feeling people will respond to Franco’s weird and outlandish depiction regardless of whether they know who Tommy is or not. There’s also a really fun vibe surrounding the film. All the actors loved working on it. And whenever you have Weird Wisseau doing promotion for you, you’re going to get a few clips that go viral, indirectly selling the movie the way only Tommy Wisseau can.
I, Tonya: I don’t see how this doesn’t go straight to VOD after an initial disaster of a limited release.
The Disaster Artist: You’re not going to get Judd Apatow comedy numbers here. But I expect this movie to do decently on its first weekend and build buzz to become a surprise success.
WINNER: THE DISASTER ARTIST!
GIANT BLOCKBUSTER SHOWDOWN: THE LAST JEDI VS. THOR: RAGNAROK
The Last Jedi is in trouble. Something feels off about the film. For starters, it’s character-driven. But do we like these characters enough to drive with them? There’s a moment late in the trailer that shows Rey being tempted by the Dark Side. All I could think was, “Do I care?” Or are the fans’ online whispers about the franchise’s new protagonist true – that she’s boring? Johnson’s film looks uptight and inaccessible with its overabundance of rocky and jagged locations and simplistic color palette (everything’s RED!). There isn’t a single moment in the trailer that we haven’t seen in another Star Wars movie before. Every movie needs to give us a reason to show up. What’s the reason to show up to The Last Jedi other than “Star Wars” being in the title?
Thor: Ragnarok: Welcome to the antithesis of The Last Jedi, a space-faring adventure that actually looks fun and different. How director Taika Waititi made a Marvel movie that separates itself from both The Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy is beyond me. But there’s a youthful enthusiasm here that seems to be lacking in The Last Jedi’s more uptight and restrained vibe. Jedi’s lone fun moment, a chicken-owl chirping on a dashboard, gives way to a dozen fun moments in Thor’s 2-minute trailer. Which do you think audiences are going to respond to better?
Predicting whether The Last Jedi will be a bomb or not means establishing studio expectations. The Force Awakens made 930 million. Rogue One made 530 million. I think Disney is looking to split the difference and is shooting for 700 million. But I’d be surprised if it makes 500, and predict something closer to 450, which would be a massive failure. Thor probably can’t reach 400, but it will get close, and has an outside chance at beating Jedi. If that happens, it would be an unheard of upset – 2 secondary superhero characters defeating the almighty Star Wars. We’ll see!
The Last Jedi: Massively underperforms
Thor: Ragnarok: Does Way Better Than Expected
WINNER: THOR: RAGNAROK!
Come on, guys. Make your own daring winter Box Office predictions below and get them on record! Don’t be a wuss and hide behind hindsight!
