Genre: Thriller
Premise: A paralyzed man who can only communicate by blinking is kidnapped by a nurse who knows his secret, that he robbed a bank eight years ago and has hidden the money.
About: Blink finished on the Black List a couple of years ago and managed to pull in Jamie Foxx to play the lead, with 300: Rise of an Empire director Noam Murro helming. Screenwriter Hernany Perla has spent most of his career producing, with his most well-known film being The Last Stand, starring Arnold Schwarzenneger.
Writer: Hernany Perla
Details: 90 pages
Can you believe what happened this weekend? Spielberg gets beat by The Purge 3? What kind of alternate universe am I living in? Everybody has their theories on why The BFG didn’t do well. Some say the title caused confusion. Others say the marketing was generic. I have my own theory. And it’s going to get me ripped in the comments, but I’m okay with that.
I think the reason nobody showed up to this movie is because the main character looked like a mini Lena Dunham. There, I said it. They took one look at that girl and went, “Nuh-uh.” And before you go nuts, remember that the face of a story is the person we have to relate to and care about. And I don’t relate to or care about a mini-feminazi.
Anyway, segueing to today’s unrelated topic: Gimmick scripts. While the word “gimmick” exudes a negative connotation, gimmick scripts are a legitimate option for the spec screenwriting crowd.
We don’t have many avenues to drive down as screenwriters, since Hollywood blocks the majority of them with their “IP or Die” rally cry. And for whatever reason, something about this quirky format encourages a good gimmick. Which leads us to the question: How do you write a good gimmick script? We’ll get to that after the synopsis…
Eddie Locke is paralyzed. The only thing he can move are his eyelids, leaving him with a binary communication process of “yeses” (two blinks) and “no’s” (one blink). Eddie’s been this way for eight years. Lying in the same hospital room staring at the same ceiling and the same stupid ass TV reruns. His nurses are pleasant but you get the feeling that if Eddie had the use of his hands for just 30 seconds one more time in life, he’d use that time to strangle them.
But Eddie’s life is about to get more exciting. A new nurse, country bumpkin, Moe, seems to know a thing or two about Eddie’s past. Like that he was paralyzed by a stray bullet during a bank robbery. A bank robbery where three men made off with a safety deposit box and were never seen again.
Moe, who’s clearly done his homework, is convinced that Eddie was the unknown fourth member of that team, and that he knows what they grabbed from that safety deposit box – a series of access numbers to an offshore account containing 40 million dollars.
Moe forces Eddie to answer all of his questions with blinks. And maybe now’s a good time to tell you, we never see Eddie. The whole movie takes place from his point-of-view. This allows us to experience the blinks from Eddie’s perspective, as well as all the other shit that happens. And a lot happens.
Moe kidnaps Eddie, brings him to his fellow bank-robbing brother’s house, only to find out his bro is dead, but that his daughter, Hayley (Eddie’s grown-up niece), knows a thing or two about the heist. Moe grabs Hayley and the three of them go on adventure to find those account numbers, which have been re-hidden.
With Eddie observing the whole ordeal helplessly, he’ll need to depend on Hayley to get him out of the mess alive. That’s assuming Eddie wants to be alive after this is all over.
So, the gimmick script. How do you write one? First, you gotta find the gimmick. I famously loved the gimmicky coffin contained-thriller, “Buried.” I reviewed a gimmicker not long ago, “The Shave,” about a cop who kills a man then goes to get a shave from the man’s father, where each side will make their case for whether the killing was justified. And it seems like every year we get a couple of “Balls Out” scripts, which are built on making fun of screenwriting conventions.
The big pitfall with gimmick scripts is that the audience is onto the gimmick quickly, usually between 10-30 pages. Once that happens, what’s left? Because if all you’ve got is a gimmick, and we’re onto your gimmick, boredom sets in.
The secret to writing a good gimmick script is NOT RESTING ON THE GIMMICK. Yes, you want to exploit your gimmick. That’s what’s going to set your script apart. Find everything you can that’s specific to your gimmick and make sure you write a scene that exploits that.
In “Buried,” for example, you better put a snake or some other freaky animal into that coffin at some point. That choice specifically takes advantage of your unique setup.
But after that, you need to make sure you’re doing two things. Going back to storytelling basics.
1) Always move your story forward
2) Always explore your characters.
If you’re not doing those, we’re not going to care. Your gimmick can only keep our interest for so long before we need more. And those two things are your “more.”
Blink achieved the first half of that equation. Unfortunately, it didn’t do enough of the second, and that’s where it fell short for me.
And this is an EXTREMELY common problem with scripts – moving the story but not the characters. I think it’s because the one thing that’s drilled into your head early on as a screenwriter is: KEEP THE STORY MOVING KEEP THE STORY MOVING KEEP THE STORY MOVING.
And you’re so focused on that, that you don’t think about anything else. You just care about getting to the next story goal or the next plot twist or the next deception.
And while that’s good advice. If that’s all you’re doing, and you’re not working to create a bond between us and the characters, we’re not going to care. It’s like the difference between me telling you that a man in Thailand got in a car accident and your best friend from high school got in a car accident. The first one you don’t even think about. Why would you care about some random man in another country getting in an accident? But as soon as I tell you it’s someone you know, you’re affected on a deep level.
To achieve this in screenwriting, go back to basics. Create an unresolved struggle WITHIN your characters and create an unresolved struggle BETWEEN your characters.
One of the unique attributes of Blink is that we don’t see the main character. So it’s hard to connect with him. That leaves us with Moe and Hayley. Moe is only about moving the story forward. There isn’t a single thing going on underneath the surface. He just wants money and that’s it. And while that’s great for the plot, it doesn’t help us FEEL anything in relation to his character.
I was just rewatching The Bourne Identity and the girl character that Jason Bourne picks up – we meet her in a very vulnerable place financially, where she’s just trying to get from paycheck to paycheck. It’s a small thing, but it creates some level of sympathy in us for the character. So we care about her on a deeper level.
With Hayley’s character, it’s a little better, since she seems to be more of an emotional person in general. But Eddie never really knew this girl. There’s no unresolved issues between them, outside of her belief that her father is dead because of Eddie. And she gets over that quickly, leaving us with nothing to resolve.
We do experience some internal strife with Eddie during his memories, and this is where the character exploration had the most potential, since Eddie was a terrible human being before he became paralyzed. But all exploration of that came late and it wasn’t very deep.
All this resulted in a fun setup and and an interesting gimmick (watching everything take place from a helpless POV). But that’s it. There wasn’t much more. And this is a great reminder for you guys. A good gimmick script can you get noticed. But if you write a gimmick script with a solid story THAT GENUINELY EXPLORES ITS CHARACTERS, that’s the kind of script that changes writers’ lives.
Blink isn’t a bad script by any means. It just didn’t have enough emotional juice to pull me in.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: If the only thing that’s getting resolved in your screenplay is your plot, you’re not doing enough. You need to resolve internal characters issues and you need to resolve broken relationships. That’s how you add dimension to your screenplay.
THE SCRIPTSHADOW NEWSLETTER HAS BEEN SENT! And it has a new TOP 25 script review inside. Holy Moses was this script good. If you didn’t receive the newsletter, check your SPAM and PROMOTIONS folders. If you still can’t find it, e-mail me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com with subject line: “NO NEWSLETTER.” If you want to be added to the newsletter, e-mail me at that same address with the subject line: “NEWSLETTER.” Enjoy!
Read each script and vote for your favorite in the comments! Winner gets a review next Friday. Let’s find something great! Monday is a holiday here in the U.S. so I’ll be back on Tuesday…
Title: The Lone Ambassador
Genre: Sci-fi/Thriller
Logline: After a mysterious alien spaceship crash-lands near area fifty one, a ridiculed ufologist is forced to go rogue and uncover over sixty years of government secrecy.
Why You Should Read: I honestly never thought I’d be submitting one of my screenplays to script shadow, but here it is. The majority of my youth was spent in my imagination navigating beyond our world, hoping that the myth of another planet just like ours, was true. My dream was to write a story about a young-naive boy, abandoned by the naysayers who roam our society in hopes to deny our truth. Enjoy, and beat me down with brutal honesty. Thank You.
Title: The Inept
Genre: Dark Humor
Logline: Chaos ensues in quiet suburbia after Eddy finds a lost wallet and obsesses over how to return it and then win over its owner, the beautiful Lindsy Rocker.
Why You Should Read: Enter a world where dueling dildo fights, threats by midget bookies, baristas posing as psychiatrists, and mistaken identity over strippers with stomas simply represents a “bad week” for Eddy, a socially inept virgin obsessed with a photo found in a woman’s lost wallet.
Title: Damaged
Genre: Drama/Thriller
Logline: A violent ex-con is hired as an investigative crime reporter under the agreement that he will perpetrate the crimes in order to write about them.
Why You Should Read: I’ve been trying for six months now to get this script read on Scriptshadow’s Amateur Fridays. If I had to pinpoint the reason that I keep failing, I would obviously turn to my logline. I know this one comes of as generic and vague. I’ve tried re-writing it a hundred times and short of lying completely and re-vamping it to feature robots and super-hero’s, there’s not much I can do. This is the story that I have and I do truly believe that it is a good one. I was aware going in how pedestrian the subject matter could be, so I concentrated primarily on scene construction, trying to make each scene as unique and memorable as possible.
Since finishing this script I have started on something new, something more high concept and reader friendly. But I still believe that all scripts are important as they all help us to improve. This is something that I can’t do until someone reads this and tears it apart for me.
So please, I’m at the mercy of the Scriptshadow community. To paraphrase Tyler Durden, tear me down so I can build something better out of myself.
Title: Ghost Story
Genre: Horror
Logline: Soon after moving into their new apartment, a young couple’s idyllic life begins to unravel in the most horrific ways due to the presence of a malevolent spirit.
Why You Should Read: I’ve been making a living as a screenwriter here in Mumbai for the last five years, before which I studied film in Los Angeles, and even worked on a few movies as a production assistant.
I’m a horror film connoisseur, and someone who swears by the holy trinity of horror cinema: “The Exorcist,” “The Shining,” and “Alien.” Although horror is my genre of choice, I’ve also secured paid gigs writing a crime-thriller, and a Hitchcockian suspense-thriller.
Following months of depression after failing to get my first horror screenplay produced, I went about writing a story which was far more contained, thereby cheaper to produce, and thus “Ghost Story” was born. “Ghost Story” is a slow burn horror-thriller in the vein of “The Shining” and “Paranormal Activity,” but without the latter’s found footage aesthetic. What sets “Ghost Story” apart is its matter-of-fact approach in presenting supernatural events in a real and believable way. Imagine “Insidious,” but with the real world aesthetics of “The Lunchbox.” It felt great when “Ghost Story” made the quarter-finals in Screencraft’s 2015 Horror Screenplay Contest.
For the past year, I’ve been paying the bills developing concepts — two action-thrillers, and one superhero-urban fantasy — for a local production company.
I’d sincerely appreciate your feedback on “Ghost Story” — not to mention feedback from the rest of the ScriptShadow community as well — because really I want to make it better. So fingers crossed, hoping this query email piques your interest!
Title: A Falling Knife
Genre: Crime Drama
Logline: When a war erupts between two Philadelphia mob factions, a gang enforcer becomes a police informant – and falls in love with the the officer he’s feeding information. It’s THE DEPARTED meets BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN.
About Me: I started my career as a writer for a variety comedy show, but my heart was always in drama. Last year I mustered the courage to quit my comedy job and do a career pivot into drama. It’s been a challenging transition, but something I’m really happy I’ve done. It’s been tough getting noticed in a new genre, and I’ve been quite humbled by starting from scratch. So in that sense, I very much consider myself an amateur.
Why You Should Read: I think it’s a very unique twist on an evergreen world. We’ll always want gangster movies, but the same old story won’t do anymore. It needs to go somewhere new. One thing I noticed about almost every one of these movies is that the energy between these intense male characters only ever manifests itself in violence. I saw a real opening to explore the emotional side of these violent, masculine guys by creating a love story between a cop and his informant. They’re in this forbidden relationship, a star-crossed love where they are enemies and lovers at once — they have to rely on and confide in each other, while at the same time struggling to fully trust one another. It lends an inherent tension to the script that to me feels fresh. It’s not all bombs and guns (though of course, there is plenty of that) but also something deeper and wholly unexpected in this genre.
Awesome news. I have a JULY 4TH WEEKEND NEWSLETTER coming out later today. I review a top secret script (no, you’ll never guess what it is in a million years) that attempts one of the toughest structural approaches in screenwriting. I then give you a super-hack on an easier rewrite style than the one I laid out for you yesterday. You won’t want to miss it. Check your Promotions Folder if you don’t receive it. I’ll post here on the site once it’s sent. If you’re not already on my list, e-mail me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com with the subject line: “NEWSLETTER.”
Genre: Kids/Adventure
Premise: A trio of misfit kids must work together to protect a supernatural baby sloth from a deranged ex-child star and return it to the Oregon Zoo.
Why you should read (from writer): This is my first script. Awhile back, Carson talked about how we should write what we know. I spent the majority of my childhood outdoors — building forts, climbing trees and catching frogs. I wanted to write a fun live action kids script that captures what it was like growing up in a small town. Also, it’s got a sloth that shoots FRICKIN’ LASER BEAMS from its eyes!
Writer: Alison Parker
Details: 91 pages
From the site that brought you Time Shark and Dude, Where’s My Ferret, comes… LAZER SLOTH! Scriptshadow is definitely addressing the bad concept problem in Hollywood. The town just doesn’t seem to be listening. But that’s okay. If they don’t bite this time, I’m turning the Amateur Friday entries into an Amateur Friday Universe.
That’s right. We’re going to write cross-over scripts, cameos, team-ups. It’s only a matter of time before the ferret in Dude, Where’s my Ferret, and Lazer Sloth team up to ride a time shark into the future, where they’ll hop on a shuttle and visit Orbital, our Amateur Friday space station that only allows families who’ve watched The Shining in its entirety (deep deep inside joke only long-time Scriptshadow readers will understand). All we need now is casting ideas. I’m thinking Jackie Chan for Ferret and Rhianna for the shark.
9 year-old Logan Murphy and his best buddies, Hailey the Tomboy and Goose the UFO enthusiast, are about to experience the strangest day of their young lives. What starts out as your typical 9 year-old lizard-hunting expedition, turns into our crew finding an abandoned crate containing a sloth that shoots lazers out of its eyes. Score!
The group takes the sloth with them, having no idea said sloth was stolen from the local zoo and was to be delivered to Hans Offa, an animal-obsessed evildoer who’s been trying to weasel his way back into the limelight ever since his child star career ended with the cancellation of his show, Adventure Boy.
Hans really needs that lazer-shooting sloth so he can get back on television. So he sends his goons, Max and Toby, who lost the thing in the first place, to get it back. When Max and Toby learn that these grade-schoolers have their job security in their possession, they chase them all over town, even through the local UFO convention, which may or may not have a connection to why our mysterious sloth can shoot lasers out of his eyes.
When you’re writing a kid’s flick, you want to keep the bar in mind. And the bar is Pixar, with Disney Animation not far behind. True, this isn’t an animated film, but you’re competing for the same audience, so a lot of the same rules apply. And these movies require you to nail three things.
Be Clever
You can’t just put cute animals onscreen and call it a day. You have to take it a step further. Since we’re talking about sloths, in Zootopia, the highlight reel scene includes a trip to the DMV where all the tellers are, you guessed it, SLOTHS! Consider that for a moment. Could the tellers have been giraffes and still work? Sure. But would it have been clever? No.
Be Imaginative
Imagination is paramount in kid’s movies. You’re going up against the most active imaginations in the world – children. So the bar is set high. If kids are out-imagining you, you’ve failed. I loved the chase scene in Zootopia that went through Rodentia, a miniaturized city where our characters are running over rooftops that are 1 foot tall.
Character Exploration
Originally, when Pixar surpassed Disney as the top animation studio in the world, people thought it was because of the digital graphics. That wasn’t it at all. It was because Pixar upped the emphasis on character development while Disney was still focusing on witty banter and musical numbers. The reason Pixar films resonated with people was because you left the theater feeling like you’d met a new group of friends. That’s how powerful good character development is.
So how did Lazer Sloth fair in these three categories? Not terrible. But I’d be lying if I said better than average. I judge cleverness and imagination on, “Did the writer think of something I couldn’t have thought of?” And there was nothing here that surprised me. The villain who used to be a child star on an adventure show was fun. But there’s a similar plotline in “Up.”
This is where a lot of beginner writers run into trouble. They set the bar too low. And it’s not their fault. They haven’t written enough scripts and gotten enough rejections to know that the next time they submit something, they have to do better. If you’ve never been rejected before, you don’t have a baseline for what you need to exceed.
As for character development, that’s usually the last thing a writer figures out before he/she makes it, not the first. And there just wasn’t enough focus placed on the characters’ internal struggles here (or there struggles with one another). There was some okay stuff with Logan’s dad, but it felt perfunctory, like the writer was adding it more because she was told to rather than because she wanted to. And that never works.
Even in a movie like Finding Dory, which I didn’t like, I can say that their “bad” character stuff is better than the best character stuff on the amateur level. Dory is going through some tough shit. She’s plagued by this terrible affliction. She can barely function in everyday life. And on top of that, we really feel how the loss of her parents weighs on her.
What I mean by “really feel” is that it’s not just a box you check on some Screenwriting Instruction Manual (“If you want to create audience sympathy, hero should lose family member”). It’s integrated into the very fiber of the character. Dory’s every choice in the story is influenced by her desire to be with her parents again. They’re not perfunctory backstory. They’re her everything.
And a lot of screenwriters will say, “Well I just want to write something fun and silly.” That’s fine. But if you’re not moving us in some way, we’re going to tire of the fun and the silly. It’s the emotional peaks and valleys that allow the fun and the silly to stay fresh.
Don’t get me wrong. Lazer Sloth is fun. It’s driven by a tight structure. The combination of the sparse writing style and the chase plot kept it moving. The villain is funny. The lazer sloth itself is adorable. I’m just not sure things got crazy enough to live up to the title, “Lazer Sloth.” For comparison’s sake, one of the splashiest spec sales of all time, “Dude, Where’s My Car?” had people growing into giants. That script lived up to the craziness of its title! So while this was a solid effort for a first script, the laser feature faltered before it could inscribe a “worth the read.”
Screenplay Link: Lazer Sloth
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Understand the expectation your title or logline sets, and make sure your script lives up to that expectation. If your script is titled, “Wacky Jacky and the Curse of the Hackey Sackey,” and it’s a slow-paced drama, you’re going to have one frustrated reader on your hands.
What I learned 2: With every choice you make in an imagination-heavy concept, ask yourself, “Could someone else have thought of this choice?” Be 100% honest with yourself. If the answer is yes, go back and think of something more imaginative. The imagination bar is SUPER HIGH in kids movies.
If you’re new to the Scriptshadow Script Challenge, here are all the previous posts…
WEEK 0
WEEK 1
WEEK 2
WEEK 3
WEEK 4
WEEK 5
WEEK 6
WEEK 7
WEEK 8
YOU FINISHED YOUR FIRST DRAFT!!!!
HOOOOOORRRRRAAAAAYYYYY!!!
First thing I want you to do?
Get drunk. You’re going to need it, trust me. Because now it’s time for the…
REWRITE!
In order to best attack a rewrite, you need to understand what rewriting is. And the way I define rewriting is simple: PROBLEM-SOLVING. That’s what you’ll be doing in your second draft, your third draft, and every draft from this point forward. Identify problems. Find solutions. I call this THE GAMEPLAN, and it has one final step:
THE GAMEPLAN
1) Identify problems.
2) Come up with solutions.
3) Implement solutions into Second Draft outline.
That’s right. You won’t be doing any physical rewriting this week. And you won’t have time to. While before, you could get away with a minimum of two hours a day. You’ll now need at least three. That’s because you’ll be dealing with the most unpredictable step in the process: SOLUTIONS. Solutions can take seconds, hours, days, even weeks to figure out. But before we go there, let’s start with step 1: Identifying the problem.
IDENTIFY PROBLEMS
The first thing I want you to do is put yourself in the mind of a reader. Take your ‘helpful’ hat off and replace it with a critical one. Your goal with this step is to be EXTREMELY HARD ON YOURSELF. Since you’re a writer, that shouldn’t be difficult. Get your mind in as critical a state as possible.
What you’re going to do is read your script from start to finish, and take notes in two areas.
1) Boring parts.
2) Characters.
For the first area, you’re going to be monitoring your enjoyment level during the screenplay. Are you engaged? Or are you bored? When you get bored, backtrack to where the boredom started, then continue on until you become engaged again. Mark that section down in a separate document and write down why you were bored. Don’t overthink it. Go with the most honest answer. So if I were, say, George Lucas, and I were applying the Scriptshadow Rewrite Model to my first draft of The Phantom Menace, this is what I might write:
Pages 5-11: Something feels off about this Jedi scene. Jedis waiting around in a room? Is that exciting enough?
Pages 23-32: The underwater Gungan City is cool, but why does it feel so boring? A lot of standing around. No action. Jar Jar’s great though. People are going to love him.
Pages 40-47: Dinner scene in Anakin’s hut is long with a lot of talking. We need to get so many plot points across that there’s no time left to entertain the audience. Maybe they’ll be distracted by how funny Jar Jar is.
You’ll have more sections than that, and in some cases, you’ll go into more detail than I did. The more detail you add, the more information you’ll have to solve the problem. Don’t get too verbose though. You don’t want your future self to have to wade through 20 lines of random thoughts to try and find the point.
While you’re assessing your boredom frequency, you’ll also want to gauge how strong your characters are. For every character who has more than two scenes, rate how satisfying they are on a scale from 1-10. Then tell us what you liked or disliked about the character:
Qui-Gon Gin (6): Stoic. But is he too stoic? Not much personality.
Obi-Wan Kenobi (5): Trying to have fun with him but he can’t be too fun since he’s a Jedi. Having a tough time finding the balance and it’s showing.
Anakin Skywalker (2): Boring, whiney. If I ever write a second draft, I’ll fix that.
Jar-Jar Binks (10): Perfect all around. Funny, engaging, charming, sophisticated. People are going to love this character. No changes!!!
SOLUTIONS
The reason you wrote all that stuff down is so that you can methodically go through it, point by point, and come up with solutions. Start with the boring sections. Some people like to re-order this list so that the biggest problems are on top. Some like to keep it in chronological order. It’s up to you. And now is where the fun begins. For every problem, figure out why it’s a problem and try to come up with a creative solution. Here’s an example:
Pages 5-11: Something feels off about this Jedi scene. Jedis waiting around in a room? Is that exciting enough?
Solution: Maybe move the scene to the hanger bay. When they first arrive, no one comes out to greet their ship. It’s eerie, odd, and more suspicious as each second ticks by. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon decide to go out and inspect. They see a couple of dead Mandelorians in the hallway. Someone got here first. But who? Are they in danger? Maybe include a flash-forward Jedi dream of Jar-Jar. Additional note: Remember to add Jar-Jar stepping in dookie scene. Forgot if I included that.
Remember that, in some cases, the issue may not be fixable. The solution, then, could be eliminating the sequence. Or replacing it with an expanded subplot, or a new subplot altogether. Or moving the section to a more desirable place in the story. Everything is in play. Just remember the ultimate mantra, which is that if it doesn’t push the story or the characters forward, you don’t need it. Could you include a scene in The Phantom Menace where Queen Amidala is practicing her blaster shooting skills? Sure. Does it get her closer to the story’s ultimate destination? It does not. So you don’t need it.
HOW TO RECOVER FROM A SCRIPT DISASTER
I should take a moment to acknowledge the possibility that NOTHING IS WORKING IN YOUR SCRIPT. This is why the outlining stage was so important. You got to see your script in macro form and tackle potential structural problems before they happened. But if you didn’t outline or you went way off the reservation during your first draft, there’s a chance that, structurally, the majority of your script is unsavable. If you deem that to be the case, figure out where you went off the rails, go back to your outline, and re-outline everything after that moment. Your “2nd draft” is going to be more like a “1.5 draft,” but thats okay and it happens a lot. The good news is that it’s better than starting from scratch.
Once you’ve found all your plotting solutions, it’s time to tackle your characters. Go through each one, figure out what’s wrong with them, and make decisions on whether to a) improve them or b) get rid of them. If a character is anywhere below a “4,” you either have to get rid of them or reimagine them. Let’s take a look at George Lucas’s Anakin note for the second draft of The Phantom Menace which he’ll be getting to any day now.
Anakin Skywalker: Boring, whiney.
Solution: The big problem here is that Anakin is one-dimensional. It’s resulted in him being boring. One way to add some spark to him is to make him more mischievous. Give him an edge. That’ll immediately add some personality to a character in desperate need of it. A goody-two-shoes who whines all the time is going to put people to sleep. Also, add a scene where Jar-Jar juggles Anakin.
Now you won’t be able to solve every problem right away. That’s okay. Some solutions will come faster than others. What I’ve found is that if something’s not coming to you, it’s best to move on to the next problem. Cause every problem you solve has the potential to give you ideas to solve other problems. So if you’re having trouble figuring out how to make Anakin more compelling, sitting there and staring at the wall won’t do much good. But if you’re working on solving that boring Anakin Dinner Hut Scene, your solution may lead you to realize that Anakin’s at his most interesting when he’s manipulating others for his own gain, which allows you to go back and integrate that into your character solution.
Once you’ve written all of your potential solutions down (plot and character), resist the temptation to jump in and start the rewrite. Instead, it’s time to integrate all of your solutions into a SECOND DRAFT OUTLINE. What a lot of writers will do is take their first draft outline, save it as a new document titled “Second Draft Outline,” then use it as a template, pasting their new ideas (their solutions) into the already numbered slots. The outline can be as general or as specific as you want. So for the opening Jedi ship scene I highlighted, you can paste in exactly what you wrote as your solution, or you can expand on it, explaining how you want the scene (and subsequent scenes) to go. My belief is that the more detail you add to your outline, the better, as it’ll make the actual script-writing part easier.
And that’s it for this week. You want to solve your plotting problems as extensively as you can. You want to solve your shitty character problems as extensively you can. And you want to add all of that stuff into your Second Draft Outline with as much detail as possible. This will become the blueprint for your second draft rewrite, which starts next week. It will also be your most time intensive week to date. So get started NOW!
Sorry. Extremely busy day. Can’t post a new review. So here’s the Landis review from my newsletter!
Genre: Thriller/Supernatural
Premise: A former astronaut dives deep into the ocean in an attempt to journey to the lowest point on earth, only to find that there may be other things on the bottom of the sea that don’t share his enthusiasm for record-setting.
About: This script recently sold for seven figures to MGM with Bradley Cooper attached. It was originally sent out to studios last year but didn’t get any bites. That changed when Landis sold his script, Bright, to Netflix for 3 million dollars. Speaking of bright, Landis has been the only bright spot on the spec sale landscape lately, leaving many writers desperately trying to figure out what his secret formula is. No better time to get into that than the present!
Writer: Max Landis
Details: 89 pages
The way I see it, Max Landis is the poster child for millennial screenwriting. His social media savvy and fearlessness in attacking pop culture has allowed him to rise above writers who – some would argue – are more talented than him. You could say that he’s the Kardashian of screenwriters. He sells scripts because he sells scripts.
Another millennial trait that defines Landis is the way he works. Millennials are used to getting what they want RIGHT NOW. If they want to go somewhere and they don’t have a car, they get an uber. If they’re hungry for their favorite food but don’t want to get off their couch, they tap up Grubhub. And when Max Landis gets an idea, he writes it – RIGHT NOW. According to Landis, Deeper was written in six hours (spread out over a couple of days). I’m not kidding.
Landis has a history of writing scripts fast. He wrote 60 pages of his recent digital release, Mr. Right, one morning while in bed with his girlfriend. He claims to have written 20 scripts before he turned 20, and I believe his script count is currently north of 80 (although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was higher). Max Landis writes scripts. And he writes them very very fast. He doesn’t outline. He doesn’t believe in screenwriting theory. He just gets an idea and writes it. Which is a nice segue into what we get in today’s script.
30-something Eddie Breen is a former astronaut who lost his job due to something bad happening, information we’re not privy to. Suffice it to say, he’s depressed. Which is probably why he takes this latest job – navigating a one-man submarine down the Ni’hil Trench, which is the deepest part of the ocean.
His goal? To reach the lowest point on earth. Why? Because why not? He’s also going to live-stream his adventure. Why? Because why not! So he hops in his little submersible, starts going down… and that’s when things get fucked. Around 4000 feet he spots a group of 50 divers playing around. A hallucination, we think? Nope, his control boat up top says they’re getting the same video feed!
Most people would stop there and try to figure that shit out. But remember, we gotta keep going deeper, man! And as we do, we learn that somewhere around this area, a famous French woman named Marion lost her ship to the sea. When Eddie eventually comes upon the shipwreck, he sees all of the ship’s crew, all ghosty and disgusting, hanging out on the ship waving to him. Uhhhh, that’s not good. But we need to go deeper! So Eddie keeps going.
Eventually, Eddie makes it to the bottom of the sea, where he finds a house. No, I’m not kidding. In the house is Marion, and she’s alive – or thinks she’s alive – and when a screw in the sub gets loose, he asks Marion to bring him a wrench so he can fix it. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to – seeing as they’re at the bottom of the ocean and all – but he’s very persuasive and she eventually comes over.
Eddie fixes the loose screw and back up they go. When they get to the top, Eddie pops out, tells his story, and as if on cue, Marion pulls herself out as well! As in WTF?? The crew is shocked. They don’t know how to handle this bizarre event, which is okay because it’s the end of the movie. Cut to black.
Okay, look, I can go on for days about this script’s problems, but the truth is, they all come back to the same thing. The script was written too fast. Every mistake is clearly a “this was written too fast” mistake. For example, if a control boat has confirmation that 4000 feet down, you’ve just discovered a band of mer-men, they’re going to get people out here immediately and look into this school of man-maids.
There are dozens of issues like that. But instead of getting into all of them, let’s highlight what Landis did right. First of all, he picked a great story for a spec screenplay. This is actually a huge talent Landis has. He understands that spec screenplays need a hook, they need to be splashy (no pun intended), and they need to move fast. A trip to the bottom of the ocean that’s going to take a couple of hours is perfect for the spec screenplay format.
And Landis does make some interesting choices along the way. For example, the surprise divers. 95% of screenwriters would’ve had the control boat up-top claim that “we aren’t seeing anything.” To have them confirm what he was seeing was a completely unexpected development. Now it was never paid off. But I was genuinely surprised he went there.
After that, things begin to fall apart. There wasn’t any consistency in the things Eddie was seeing. At first it’s a strange group of divers playing around in the ocean. Then we see disgusting zombie-sickly ghosts. Then we see Marion, who looks completely normal. Are people ghosts, normal, mer-men? What’s up??
This leads to Landis’s biggest weakness. Once the reader realizes he doesn’t have a plan – that he’s just making all this up as he goes along and has no desire to patch up the holes through rewrites, you stop believing in the story. You feel like, “Well you clearly didn’t invest a lot of time in this. So why am I obligated to?”
To this, you’re probably asking the inevitable question: If this isn’t any good, how did he sell it? And how did he sell Bright? And how did he sell any of his scripts? Well, I do think there’s a big lesson to learn from Max Landis that answers these questions.
Create content and get it out there.
While I don’t advocate turning an idea that just popped into your head into a fully formed screenplay by lunch time, there’s something to be said about a writer’s obsessive desire to write as much as possible. Contrary to popular belief, Landis didn’t start selling scripts the second he complained about Superman on Twitter. He’s been sending scripts out for a decade. And for six of those years and dozens of those scripts, everyone told him to fuck off.
But he kept writing and he kept sending stuff out. And as his stuff started getting better, people started to option it. And as people saw that others were giving him a shot, he started getting sales.
That’s something we don’t talk about a lot here. People in Hollywood are terrified to pull the trigger on unproven writers. But if they see someone else take a chance on a writer, they feel better about taking one themselves. And that opportunity only came for Landis because he created SO MUCH CONTENT. He kept churning it out and sending it out, and it got to the point where, out of sheer volume, some of it began hitting.
What we’re seeing now is the next iteration of that. Because he’s been selling specs regularly since Chronicle, because everybody knows who he is in part due to his social media presence, his scripts have gained more weight and their prices have gone up. But remember, this doesn’t happen if he wasn’t obsessively writing and obsessively pushing product out for years. You have to keep in mind that Landis has been told no on dozens of his screenplays.
Think about that. I know writers who quit after one of their scripts went wide and no one liked it. Max Landis would’ve never made a 3 million dollar sale if he approached the business that way.
When you think about it, Landis has exploited the system’s one loophole. What is the most common response you get when you send out a screenplay? It’s “no.” Even if people like the script, it’s often “no.” Hollywood is a numbers game. You need to get a bunch of nos before you get your ‘yes.’ So Landis came up with a solution. He sped up the “nos.” He pushed tons of product out to get to the “yes” faster.
So that’s the best lesson I can make of this. The more product you create and the more product you deliver, the quicker you’re going to get your ‘yes.’ That doesn’t mean write a bunch of 6 hour scripts. But it also doesn’t mean you should wait forever to make your script perfect. =
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: At the bottom of the ocean, Eddie and Marion get into some deep philosophical discussions. Whenever characters get into philosophical discussions, it’s usually an indication that your plotting/structure is weak. Your story should always be moving somewhere, your characters always pushing towards something. When there’s nothing to push towards, writers aren’t sure what to do. So they turn to meaningless dialogue to fill up space. Since normal dialogue is boring, they think if they add a philosophical element to it, it will be more interesting. Cause, they’re like, talking about serious shit, man. There are exceptions to this, of course. But in instances like this, it’s clearly a space-filler. Make sure in your script, if your characters are having philosophical discussions, that they aren’t doing so just to fill up space.
