The first Logline Showdown winning script of the year!
Genre: Dramedy
Winning Logline: An ambitious journalist for a cheap tabloid returns to his hometown where he’s forced to cross previously burned bridges with friends and family while investigating claims of a giant frog creature terrorizing the town.
About: Thanks again to Scott for doing all the hard work tallying votes for January Logline Showdown. Frog Boy pulled in 24 and a half votes, which was 32% of the vote, besting The Rhythm Police at number 2, which received 17 and a half votes (23%).
Writer: Zach Jansen
Details: 101 pages
For a while there, I didn’t know who was going to win. Rhythm Police was getting a lot of love. That would’ve been fun to review. But you know what? I thought The Glades (3rd place – 16 votes) was going to win the weekend when I put the loglines out. That one felt the most like a movie to me. But I’m kinda glad you guys went with something unique. That gives me hope that not every movie produced going forward is going to have iron man suits in it. Let’s see how the first winning logline of the year turned out…
20-something James works in the big city. Well, if you can call “Cleveland” a proper city. They do have the only lake in the United States that catches on fire. Sorry, Midwestern in-joke there.
James works at one of those tabloid papers that need to fit aliens into every headline. Personally, I don’t know why that’s considered “tabloid.” Aliens are real. It’s been proven on Twitter. Duh. Sorry, I’m getting distracted again.
After pissing off the city mayor, James’ boss wants to get him out of town and, by pure chance, there’s a story that would be perfect for their paper in James’ hometown – One of the city’s workers was recently attacked by a giant frog.
James hems and haws because he hates his small podunk town but agrees to go there when his boss threatens to fire him if he doesn’t. Immediately upon arrival, James runs into all the usual suspects – the reformed town bully, the angry ex-girlfriend, the father he can’t stand. But James is a professional. He’s not here for drama. He wants to solve the Frog Boy case. Or, more precisely, he wants to prove it’s nonsense.
Upon doing some research, James learns that the Frog Boy sightings date back decades, specifically around the town’s central lake. Could this frog boy phenomenon be true?? And then there’s the bigger question in all of this: Is anything true? James became a skeptic all the way back when he was a kid and decided there was no God. Which is why he and his religious father don’t talk anymore. James finally teams up with his ex to get the definitive answer on the frog. But what he ultimately finds just may ribbet his whole reality.
It took me a long time to understand why investigations were perfect storytelling vessels. The goal is built right there into the premise! Your main character’s activity is built right into the premise! This is why they can make 50,000 TV shows about cops. It’s because the cops always have an investigation, and those investigations effortlessly power stories.
But where the real fun in investigatory storytelling comes from is when you go off-road. You don’t just give us another murder to investigate. You have some fun with the investigative format. Which is why this logline was chosen. It gives us an investigation we don’t typically get to see. It’s different.
But even if you have a powerful engine pushing your story along, you still need some exciting sights and stops along the way. I didn’t see enough of those in Frog Boy.
One of the most common mistakes I see in screenwriting is assuming too much familiarity on the reader’s end. You think they know what’s going on but you haven’t given them enough information for them to understand the scene. Here’s an early example of that in Frog Boy…
Jansen assumes we know that the boss character is thinking about sending him to his hometown for this frog story. But I don’t know this boss character. I don’t know what he knows about the frog story. I don’t know that he knows James lives in Loveland. I didn’t even know James lived in Loveland at this point in the story.
So when we come into the scene with the boss asking James where he lives, we’re confused. The only indication of what’s going on occurs in a parenthetical (“realizes”). But I didn’t catch the meaning of that at first. I had to re-read the scene to understand it.
All of this could’ve been cleared up by simply being in the room with the boss as he’s looking at the frog story online before James walks in. Now we know why he’s called James in and we can enjoy the process of the boss yanking him around.
Too often, we writers assume the reader knows more than they do. They don’t know anything UNLESS YOU TELL THEM. Keep that in mind every time you write a scene, ESPECIALLY early on in the script when you hold TONS MORE information about your story than the reader. Those first 30 pages are when they need you holding their hand the most.
There were also some mistakes made on the dialogue end. Dialogue isn’t always about the words being said. It’s about the situation you create around the words to give them the most impact. In the middle of the screenplay, James goes to jail. He has no other choice than to call his father, whom he despises, to get him to bail him out.
The dad comes, bails him out, and on the car ride home, the dad starts making demands. “I want you to stay at home while you’re here instead of at the hotel.” But the demands hold no weight because the dad HAS ALREADY BAILED JAMES OUT.
This conversation would’ve had a lot more impact had the dad visited James while he was still behind bars and made the demands THERE. Now, the demands actually hold weight because James has to decide which is worse, staying in jail or staying with his dad. These are little things but they add up. They make a difference. There were several more scenes in the script where there was zero conflict or zero stakes so the conversations just sat there.
What the script does get right is its tone. It’s a fun little screenplay. It’s a fun investigation. It’s got charm. Some of the scenes of James investigating the loonier people in town made me giggle. Here’s an early exchange between James and his former bully from school.
The script had this dependable spine that always had you smiling, which stemmed from its quirky investigatory center. And it even had some character relationship depth. I thought the stuff with James and his dad about faith, which tied into the frog storyline nicely, was solid.
I would even react positively to anyone who asked me what I thought about the script. I would say, “It was cute.” That’s positive, right? But I just had this conversation with a writer the other day, who also had a cute script. I reminded him, “Cute is better than average. Cute is a lot better than ugly. But cute isn’t hot.” In the ultra-competitive world of screenwriting, cute gets you a smile. Hot gets you a date.
How do you make Frog Boy hot? The best way to make a script like this hot is to make it darker, weirder, or funnier. “Funnier” can be tough because it’s hard to write a consistently LOL script. But you can always make creative choices that are darker and weirder. You have a Frog Boy. You can push that into some risky areas.
But, in fairness to Jansen, I don’t think he’s interested in that. He wants this to be light. And movies like this *do* get made. This reminds me of a lot of films such as Welcome to Mooseport or Swing Vote. I think I imagined something a little wilder, though, something weirder. Which is why I can’t quite recommend the script. But it was right on the cusp of “worth the read.”
Script link: Frog Boy
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Show and Tell. When it comes to your hero’s flaw, you want to use a two-pronged approach. The first thing you want to do is SHOW the flaw. So if your hero runs away whenever things get tough, write a scene where we see him run away when things get tough. Then, what I encourage screenwriters to do, is to add a flaw “tell” somewhere in the script. For a variety of reasons, readers may not pick up on the flaw when you showed it. So you can tell it to the reader as well, just to make sure everyone gets it. Here, we have our “tell” moment when James is talking to someone from town to get information on the story.
The problem in Frog Boy is that we never got the SHOW. We only get the TELL. And when you do that, the reader always feels it less. So make sure you first show us and only then, later, tell us.
Week 5 of the “2 scripts in 2024” Challenge
We’ve chosen our concept. We’ve prepared our characters. We’ve written our outline.
Week 1 – Concept
Week 2 – Solidifying Your Concept
Week 3 – Building Your Characters
Week 4 – Outlining
It is now time to write our first screenplay of 2024. I’m going to guide you through the whole process, making crafting a screenplay as easy as mixing a smoothie. You know, I once tried to go on an all-smoothie diet? Big mistake. Biiiiiiiigggg mistake. Let’s just say I’ll never drink another smoothie again.
Hey! Focus, people. Stop getting distracted.
I’ve thought long and hard about how to approach this and I decided I wanted to go with the most realistic approach possible. So I’m not going to put you on some crazy-fast pace where you get left behind the second you run into trouble. I’m building “running into trouble” into this process because I realize that screenwriting is trouble-shooting.
It would be nice if you never had to look back – if every choice you made was perfect. But a screenplay is a living breathing thing and, just like we make mistakes in our lives, a screenplay “makes mistakes.” You might have screwed up the main character and have to replace him with a different character. You may discover that there’s a better way into your story. You may go down a road in your script that leads to nowhere and have to back up. This type of stuff happens all the time.
Which is why I’m going to set a leisurely pace here. You only have to write one scene a day. I’m also giving you TWO FULL DAYS during every week to go back and correct any issues with the other five scenes you wrote.
For those who don’t know, an average scene in a script is around 2 pages, which means that most scripts have between 45-50 scenes. At 5 scenes a week, we’re going to finish our first draft in 10 weeks.
So, to be clear
Friday = write 1 scene
Saturday = write 1 scene
Sunday = write 1 scene
Monday = write 1 scene
Tuesday = write 1 scene
Wednesday = go back and correct any issues with your five scenes
Thursday = go back and correct any issues with your five scenes
Simple, right?
Does this mean you can only write one scene a day? Of course not. You can write two, three, four, five, ten scenes. However many you want. The more scenes you write, the more time you’re giving yourself to correct problems that will pop up. But, at the very least, no matter what, you have to write one scene. Even if you don’t have any ideas for a scene, you still have to write one.
“But Carson, I don’t want to write a bunch of bad scenes and put them in my script.” Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. You are going to have a second Final Draft document open whenever you’re writing. This will be your “scrapbook” document.
Scrapbook documents are ideal for perfectionists, worrywarts, and writers who will do anything to not write. If you can’t make yourself write a scene into your script, you still have to write a scene in your scrapbook. The advantage of this is that there’s no pressure to write this scene since it isn’t actually in your script. Therefore, if it’s beyond terrible, you just erase it. But if you like it, you can always copy and paste it into the main document.
But just to reiterate, you must write a scene five days a week no matter what.
Again, if you struggle, you have those extra two days a week to catch up. So if you write a scrapbook scene on Monday that you hate and discard. If you write a scrapbook scene on Tuesday that you hate and discard. Use those final two days of the week to catch up.
“What if I want to write 30 pages right away?”
Back in 7th grade, I’ll never forget our P.E. teacher taking us outside and telling us that he was going to time us all for the mile. We had to run around this big blacktop in front of the school six times in order to equal a mile. We all, eagerly, asked what the world record was and he said 4 minutes (or something) so we of course were all determined to break that record.
We lined up, he yelled out, “On your mark, get set, go!” And you’ve never seen 40 kids sprint as fast as we did…. for about half a lap. By lap two, we were all jogging. By lap three, we were walking. By lap four, some of the kids had started throwing up. And by lap 5, most of us were writhing on the ground in pain a la Michael Scott during his Rabies Run.
I’m a big believer in “momentum writing.” When you feel that momentum, ride it as long as you can. Just know that it’s not going to last the whole screenplay. You will come to a screeching halt at some point. Once that happens, come back to these posts I’ll put up every week and use them to go back to this simpler output of one scene a day for five days a week.
That way, if you get a 40 page head start, you’ll just finish before everyone else, which will give you more time to REWRITE. Any extra time you have during this process, I want you to use it to rewrite. We’ll get into the specifics of rewriting in another post. But the basics are:
1) Assess what the major problems in your script are.
2) Write down solutions.
3) Execute solutions.
Okay, now that we have our daily goals set, let’s talk about these first ten pages you’re going to write. You’re free to write the script however you want, of course. But the advice I would give you is don’t fall into “Setup Mode.” “Setup Mode” is when, all you do, is set things up. Here’s my main character. Here’s why he’s a good guy. Here’s his flaw, which is why he hasn’t fulfilled his promise in life. Here are a few more characters you need to know. Here are some setups I need to establish which I will pay off later.
If you write this way, you are not writing a story. You are writing a checklist of things that the reader needs to know.
Instead, use the power of storytelling to ENTERTAIN THE READER as they’re learning all of this information. The act of entertainment should always be priority number one when writing a screenplay. Because, guess what? If the reader isn’t entertained, it doesn’t matter how well you set everything up. We won’t care. Why should we care if we’re not pulled into your story in an entertaining manner?
Think of scenes like mini-stories. Each one should have something that grabs us in some way, or pulls us in, or asks an interesting question that needs to be answered. With Barbie, it was, “Why am I having thoughts of death?” It’s like: BOOM! We have to keep reading cause that question doesn’t sound right in the Barbie World. Or go watch The Killer. Each scene is built to entertain you. Even that first scene, which some people had a problem with, creates this question that needs to be answered – when will he assassinate this person across the street? And then we get that great reversal of him missing and now we’re off to the races.
And don’t feel like your scenes need to be 2 pages each. You’ll find that, when you embrace this “each scene is a story in and of itself” approach, your scene-writing will be longer. It’s okay! You might only have 30 scenes in your movie. It will be based on your writing style and the kind of movie you’re writing. If you’re writing The Hangover, then you’ll write a lot of 2-page scenes. If you’re writing Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, you’ll be writing 6-page scenes.
Okay, I’ve given you enough to get started so, what are you waiting for? Time to begin your screenplay. Good luck!
You can read this almost-franchise sequel for Stallone’s “Cliffhanger” at the bottom of the review!
Genre: Action
Premise: A former Gulf War vet with an axe to grind against America steals a nuke and takes over the Hoover Damn.
About: Since Scott knows more about this than I do, I’ll wait for him to post his notes regarding the script and paste it here. But, basically, it’s the script they purchased to turn into a sequel to the 1992 Stallone mountain-climbing flick, Cliffhanger.
Writers: Jan Skrentny & Neal Tabachnick
Details: 1994 draft – 118 pages (1st draft for studio after script sale)
All this Gen-Z writing is making me angsty. It’s time to jump into our screenwriting time machine and go back to an era when screenwriting was simpler. You came up with a simple premise that would last 15 pages, filled up 105 more, and cashed in a million-dollar check. Actually, screenwriting hasn’t changed much at all. Except for the million-dollar check part.
The good news is that I just read a big script that feels like a Hollywood spec sale from the past, and I’ll be reviewing it in the Scriptshadow Newsletter, which will hit your Inboxes on the 1st or 2nd of February. If you haven’t signed up for my newsletter, do it now: carsonreeves1@gmail.com.
Today, we’re tackling a sequel to the Stallone mountain-climbing flick, Cliffhanger. It’s actually quite timely with the success of Free Solo. It’s only natural that we get a mountain-climbing action movie in 2024, right? Let’s see if Cliffhanger falls to its death or uses its ice pick to pull itself up and get to the top of the mountain.
We meet voluntary rescue employees Mike and Carrie as they test a military chopper in the Grand Canyon to possibly use in future rescue efforts. After enduring a gnarly close call with the flight, the two finally get to go on vacation to the Hoover Dam. And while they’re there, Mike’s planning on proposing.
Meanwhile, a dude named Colonel Ezadia Nuff, or, as I like to call him, “Nuff Said,” somehow coordinates a nuclear missile heist from a missile that’s being thrown away by the military. His men not only steal the missile but they drive it right over to the max prison in the desert to pick up Nuff Said. They grab the nuclear innards of the missile and are gone long before anyone can come help.
These two groups of people collide at the Hoover Dam. Nuff Said rolls two semis over the highways west and east of the dam, stopping all cars from being able to get through. He then rigs the dam with explosives. We eventually learn that Nuff Said was left out to dry after capturing Saddam Hussein. And he wants revenge. God Dam revenge.
What follows is a game of cat and mouse as Mike first tries to find Carrie within the dam and then tries to stop Nuff Said himself. But what is Nuff’s plan exactly? Why would he need a nuke to blow up the dam? Could he have something else up his sleeve? The answer may be in nearby Vegas, where our crazy movie climaxes.
One of the biggest challenges with action scripts is conveying the logistics of what’s happening in the story entertainingly and dramatically. Because action scripts are inundated with logistical scenes. Shootouts, car chases, military operations, often happening in or nearby places that the average person doesn’t know a lot about.
That’s the big problem with The Dam. I vaguely know what the Hoover Dam looks like. But if you go ahead and Google it, you see that it’s actually quite intricate with a lot of little stations and areas that are highly unique. You’ve got the top of the dam, the bottom of the dam, and the highway that drives over it, all of which are easy to imagine.
But then you have all these inner areas and lower sections and turbines and engines and electrical rooms – and this is where most of the movie takes place. I couldn’t, for the life of me, imagine 75% of it. I just never knew exactly where I was or what I was looking at.
This isn’t as big of a deal if you’re writing a draft for the studio. Cause if you’re writing for the studio, it’s more about making the physical movie than writing a script that will win over readers. But it still matters because you eventually have to give the script to a director or a star to approve of it and if they’re reading this like me, where they can never quite understand what they’re looking at, then they can’t get invested emotionally. They won’t be pulled into the drama. And they’ll say “no.”
Which is exactly what I’m assuming happened here. This was the draft that went out to Stallone, and all he saw was, “Character is in the Engine Room.” “Character hides in turbine elevator tunnel.” “Character radios Other Character in Diversion Sector.” You might as well write your script in hieroglyphics.
I wish I could reveal the script I’m reviewing for the newsletter because that’s a script that did the exact opposite of this. It created a situation that was incredibly easy to imagine and, as a result, was able to secure one of the biggest actors on the planet. That’s not an accident that that happened. When you write scenarios that are easy for the reader to imagine, it’s easier for them to get lost in the story.
By the way, I’m not saying you can’t write a script about the Hoover Dam. You just have to understand the challenge in front of you and be up for that challenge. You need to have a game plan to keep your script easy to visualize. Recently, a writing duo hired me for a script consultation on a big flashy 90s-type action movie and, on the very first page, provided a picture of the location. That went a long way towards me understanding what I was looking at. I’m not saying to only use pictures. I’m saying, use whatever you can. If you’re great at description, be prepared to mine every last drop of that skill in a script like this one.
Outside of that, the script was fun to read in a “Back to the 90s” way. The number of 90s spec cliches here was astounding. One of the first things we see is a Blackhawk helicopter. It is statistically proven that between the years of 1994 and 1999, every single Hollywood movie had a Blackhawk helicopter in it.
We’ve got silly tough guy lines that nobody would ever say in real life: “Think my nuts just hit absolute zero.” We’ve got a max security prison (check that, a “Max Max” security prison, whatever that is). We’ve got a villain who used to be in the U.S. military. And, of course, no 90s action spec would be complete without a stolen nuclear missile.
I bring this up in part to have fun with it. But also to remind you that you don’t want someone in 2054 looking back at your script that you’re writing now, and be able to tell, within seconds, that it was written in the early 2020s. So if you’re doing whatever everyone else is doing (female lead, social commentary, overly sensitive to every potential reader, overtly political), it’s going to be obvious why your script didn’t get anywhere. Because you were doing exactly what everybody else was doing!
Be different. Make sure your script stands out in some way.
As I look back at this script, its biggest problem is that it’s trying to make a set piece an entire movie. The Hoover Dam is a great 20 minute action set piece. I’m not convinced it’s a 2 hour movie. Mainly because of the stakes. What does destroying the dam do? Our villain says that it will destroy every city downstream but I looked up on a map every city “downstream” and all I saw was a podunk town called “Bullhead.”
And then, of course, we don’t get Gabe Walker! The hero of Cliffhanger. I know, I know. The studio bought the script to turn into a Cliffhanger sequel. But this Mike guy is pretty lame as far as action heroes go. He wasn’t that smart. He wasn’t that actiony. That’s another reason Stallone probably passed. “Yo Adrian, this character sux.” Although, in Mike’s defense, he does get to skate up the Luxor Hotel in Vegas in the final act (no, I’m being serious).
It was fun to take a trip back to this potential franchise. But after reading this script, it’s easy to see why it never made it past the first movie.
Script link: The Dam
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Make your set pieces easy to visualize. To this day, the best action set piece I’ve ever seen remains the T2 semi-truck motorcycle chase. It not only works on screen. It works on the page. Why? BECAUSE IT’S SO EASY TO VISUALIZE. Tanker truck chases cycle down narrow passage. Compare that to this script where I needed to study a 200-page series of diagrams about the Hoover Dam to properly understand where everyone was, where they were in relation to each other, and what the heck they were doing.
Is the worst logline on the 2023 Black List its best script??
Genre: Thriller
Premise: (from Black List) A married man takes his girlfriend on a romantic getaway to a villa. There is a swimming pool.
About: This script was on the Black List with 8 votes. The writer, Evan Twohy, had a script on the Black List a couple of years ago called Bubble & Squeak. The only thing I remember about it is that it was weird.
Writer: Evan Twohy
Details: 101 pages
Jason Bateman for Martin?
Since we’ve been having so much fun with loglines all weekend, I thought, “Why not keep it going?” Just like America’s football fans can’t get enough Taylor Swift drama, I can’t get enough logline drama!
Today’s script had the single worst logline on the Black List. And yet, several of you read the script and told me it was great! Hence, I wanted to provide the “loglines don’t matter” crowd with some ammunition going forward. It’s finally time to review “Roses,” aka “Swimming Pool Script.”
51 year old Martin says goodbye to his wife, Justine, as he heads off on a work trip for the weekend. At least that’s what he tells Justine. We see him drive up to Northern California and pick up the 28 year old naive Rose, who’s quickly falling in love with Martin. Martin then drives her to a big Air BnB cabin in the forest.
After the two make love, Rose decides to go swim in the poorly cared-for pool, which has a greenish grime layer over the top of it. The two later head to sleep when Martin is woken up at 3 in the morning to a sound outside. He grabs a working old gun from the wall of the mansion and heads out, only to find Rose inexplicably swimming laps in the pool.
He asks her if she’s crazy, only to hear Rose reply from behind him. He turns and sees a second Rose, aka Original Rose. The Rose coming out of the pool is Rose #2. Savvy moviegoers will figure out what the script tells us later – this pool duplicates anybody who swims in it.
Martin is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He’s freaking the heck out but he can’t exactly call the cops, since his weekend soiree with a younger woman will get back to his wife. Eventually, Rose #1 talks him into sleeping on it. And the next morning, they try to figure out what they’re going to do.
Soon, it’s apparent that Rose #2 is different from Rose #1. Rose #1 is head over heels in love with Martin and would trust her life to him. Rose #2 is only in it for the fun and finds Martin annoying and dumb. If it was up to her, she’d end this affair tomorrow. Because of this, Martin covertly takes Rose #2 on a walk deep into the woods and shoots her dead. Problem solved.
Well, not really. When he gets back, there are five new Roses with the original Rose. And worse, they’re starting to look different. For example, one of them has a nose growing off of their neck. It turns out the Roses love swimming in the pool. And, despite his attempts to stop them, they keep swimming, and keep duplicating, with each new iteration less human. Once the Roses finally have a big talk about Martin, they realize he’s one of the worst people ever. Which only means one thing: They have to eat him. Will Martin be able to escape? Or will the rapidly expanding Roses consume him?
One of the common issues I find in amateur screenplays is that the writers come up with a unique idea but they don’t do enough with it. For example, they might come up with an idea about time travel, yet their entire third act has nothing to do with time travel. When you come up with a unique idea, your job, as the screenwriter, is to exploit the heck out of that idea. You want to milk every last drop out of it. That idea is the selling point of your entire movie. Why would you avoid it?
If you want to know how to exploit an idea to its fullest, read this script.
This script is the blueprint for concept exploitation. At the end of the first act, we have two Roses. By the midpoint, we have five Roses. Within ten more pages, we have 30. Ten more, we have 50. By the third act, we have 100. By the climax, Martin himself is multiplying.
In other words, whenever the script needed to evolve, it went back to its hook – the swimming pool that clones whoever goes in it. Whenever you’re facing an issue in your own screenplay that you can’t find a solution for, exploiting your concept is usually the answer. So, if your movie is about a guy trying to start his chocolate business (Wonka), and you’re not sure what to do with your climax, you should probably lean into… drum roll please… CHOCOLATE. Which is exactly what they did. Wonka is tossed, by his rivals, into a vat of steadily rising liquid chocolate to die.
The genius of this script is that it never stops leaning into its unique premise. It keeps going back to that swimming pool well. And the writer has a lot of fun with it. It isn’t just that Rose keeps getting cloned. It’s that her clones get cloned and each one comes back a little less human. So these new Roses we’re getting become gnarlier and gnarlier. In other words, the writer isn’t mindlessly milking his premise. He’s CREATIVELY milking it.
So, what does a non-exploited version of this premise look like? We’ve seen it before. It’s if Twohy would’ve stopped at two Rose clones. You can write that version. And I’m not even saying that version of the script would have been bad. But it wouldn’t have been as fun as this one.
The only issue I have with this script is that I’m not sure what it’s trying to say.
There was this interesting moment about 40 pages into the script where Rose 2 reveals that she doesn’t have that naivety that Rose 1 has. She’s more skeptical of men and their motives. Twohy seemed to be exploring the multiple voices in our heads that are always fighting each other during the life decisions we make. I thought he was going to continue down that road with each new iteration of Rose that came out of the pool. But that never happened. They became more like a hive mind determined to eliminate Martin.
It’s a common issue writers encounter when writing a screenplay – they can either lean into the aspects of the script that create more of a theme, or lean into the aspects of the script that create more of a fun story. Rarely are you able to do both. But this script ends up being so wild and fun by the time we reach the third act, I think Twohy made the right choice.
So does this answer the age-old question once and for all? Loglines don’t matter? I’m afraid to say it does not. Because I never would’ve read this script based on the logline and I don’t think anybody else would’ve either. The script was read because the writer had a previous high-ranking script on the Black List that got a lot of reads and developed a lot of fans for the writer. So they were eager to read anything he wrote, regardless of the logline. You, as the unknown screenwriter, don’t have that luxury. You need to earn it first. So pick a great concept and write a great logline. :)
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: If I didn’t make it clear enough in the review, EXPLOIT YOUR CONCEPT AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. Every creative decision you make in your script that isn’t derived from your unique premise, means you are creating characters and scenes THAT COULD BE IN ANY MOVIE. The goal is to create an experience that can only be enjoyed IN YOUR MOVIE. So lean into your premise as much as possible!
The box office is so dead right now that the biggest story in Hollywood is Sydney Sweeney doing Hot Ones and the 500 memes that have already been born out of her episode. Of course, you’re not going to get any argument from me. The more Sydney Sweeney on the internet, the better the internet becomes. That’s indisputable math. I checked with Neil deGrasse Tyson.
I am happy to see that The Beekeeper is still buzzing along, though. The underrated flick with the honey-sweet script dipped just 17% from last week to reclaim first place. That’s good news for screenwriter Kurt Wimmer, who may have laid claim to the stash that every screenwriter dreams of – a franchise.
But since there’s nothing else to talk about on the box office end, I thought, why not jump right into “Why Your Logline Didn’t Make the Cut?” This Thursday is reserved for a “Start Your Screenplay” post. Friday we’ve got a review of this weekend’s Showdown winner. Today is about teaching writers the value of a strong concept and logline.
Title: Safe Space
Genre: Thriller
Logline: From her bird’s eye point of view, an alcoholic crane operator on probation races against time to piece the clues together to prove a murder happened in an apartment before she becomes the killer’s next victim.
Analysis: I actually thought this logline had potential. It’s one of the more unique contained thrillers I’ve seen. But this is a great example of how the message of a logline can be lost due to the absence of a few words. I *think* this all takes place in the crane. But the logline doesn’t make that clear. “From her bird’s eye view,” is just vague enough to make us wonder. When it comes to loglines, don’t get cute. You need to actually say: THEY’RE IN THE CRANE THE WHOLE TIME. Cause otherwise it’s too easy to misinterpret it. I’d also want to know why they’re in the crane the whole movie and why that’s relevant. These things are not clear enough in the logline.
Title: Bunker Mentality
Genre: Zombie comedy
Logline: A group of high-ranking government officials struggle to manage the emergency response – and their own survival – after they accidentally lock themselves inside a secret military bunker at the outset of a zombie apocalypse.
Analysis: This one has a similar issue. It’s unclear what we’re actually going to experience in the movie. We get locked in a bunker at the outset of a zombie apocalypse. Considering that being outside WITH THE ZOMBIES is a much worse scenario, my assumption is that this is a good thing! A movie idea is supposed to pose a problem. Not a solution. I did e-mail the writer, pointing this out, and he said that there are going to be zombies in the bunker that they’re stuck in. Well, that needs to be in the logline then! Also, I’d think that military bunkers could be opened from the inside. So I don’t know how you lock yourself in. That last part is a minor question but it’s the kind of thing that goes through a potential reader’s head when they’re deciding whether to request a script or not. You don’t want that. You don’t want there to be any questions. I hate to use these breakdowns to pimp my logline service but seriously, I could help you get rid of all of these problems. carsonreeves1@gmail.com
Title: The Love, The Bend & The Break
Genre: Thriller
Logline: After an aspiring cyclist’s thoughtful birthday gift sparks his wife’s affair, his curiosities lead him to confront her lover, as he unlocks a fury that even he would never have imagined.
Analysis: I’m beating a dead horse here but, again, we’ve got a logline that’s not giving us enough information. When some of the readers of the site complain that the loglines posted aren’t good enough, you have to understand that more than half of the entries are like these listed above where they don’t give you enough information to even make sense. That’s not to say the script isn’t good. But the logline needs to reflect all of that in a way where we can understand the movie you’re pitching. A thoughtful birthday gift sparks a wife’s affair. What does that mean? Why would a gift do that? It’s such a specific cause and effect that we need to know what the gift is in order for it to make sense to us. From there, the rest of the logline is platitudes and you guys know how much I hate platitudes (“unlocks a fury,” “he would never imagine”). Platitudes are phrases that sound important but ultimately mean nothing because they don’t provide the reader with enough information to understand what’s happening. They are particularly harmful to your logline on the back end of it. You’re supposed to be leaving us with a big exciting climax to your logline that makes us want to read the script! Instead, we get platitudes, which creates the opposite effect.
Title: the secret recipe.
Genre: black comedy
Logline: A frustrated 32 year old man kidnaps the chef from his favorite burger restaurant after repeated failed attempts to get the recipe. He finds out real quick that the chef may not be who he seems to be.
Analysis: For starters, no capitalization on the title or genre. You’re toast right there. Nobody in Hollywood is even going to read your logline after they see that. Show appreciation and care for the language you’re using to tell your story. It’s not only professional but it shows that you care about attention to detail. The first part of this logline creates some sense of a movie. But the logline is destroyed by its second sentence. He finds out the chef’s not who he seems to be. What does that mean? Is he secretly a woman? Is he a vampire? Is he a used car salesman? Is he an alien? Is he a vegetarian determined to destroy the meat industry from the inside? Every one of those options tells a different story. So if you don’t give us that information, we don’t know the story. This is a constant theme with people sending me loglines. They play it too coy. They hide information that they should be giving the reader. One of the best pieces of information I can give everyone writing loglines is PROVIDE MORE INFORMATION THAN YOU THINK YOU HAVE TO. NOT LESS.
Title: Cutie Pie
Genre: Defiled Rom-Com
Logline: When a disturbed female chef falls for a bent cop who’s getting married tomorrow, she cooks up a diabolical plan to win his heart and stop the wedding.
Analysis: I’m going to say this as plainly as I can. THE DIABOLICAL PLAN IS THE MOVIE! Therefore, IT NEEDS TO BE IN THE LOGLINE. One of these days I should livestream myself reading these loglines because all I do, 99% of the time, is either throw up my hands in exasperation or my head falls into my hands in frustration. Cause these problems are fixable yet writers keep making the same mistakes over and over. Why keep the most critical part of your story a secret? It doesn’t make sense to me yet SO MANY WRITERS think it’s the right thing to do.
Title: PHANTASMAGORIA SUCCESSION
Genre: Horror
Logline: After becoming trapped in a logic-defying mansion, a newlywed fights to stop a centuries old supernatural vendetta that will ensure her new family’s global empire and enslave her for eternity.
Analysis: With this one, the issue is more specific. It’s not clear, upon the initial reading, what the “strange attractor” is. A “strange attractor” is the unique thing about your movie that isn’t in any other movie. It’s what sets your movie idea apart and will make people want to read it. I read the logline again and saw, “logic-defying mansion” and decided that that must be the strange attractor. Except here’s the problem: Nobody knows what a logic-defying mansion is. Whatever it is, is the hook of the movie. So it needs to be explained in the logline or else your logline sounds like every other movie where people go to a big house and crazy stuff happens.
Title: Do You Fear What I Fear
Genre: Horror/Comedy
Logline: There will be blood… Elf blood! When a masked killer out for revenge goes on a rampage at the workshop, only Santa’s pissed off, recently-fired daughter Karen can save Christmas.
Analysis: The tagline here is fun. But I need to make something clear to screenwriters everywhere. I’ve read a million and one versions of this logline. For whatever reason, half the screenwriters out there have a Christmas horror script. It *seems* clever but it’s a surprisingly common idea. Also, I just don’t think it works. I get the irony (evil on Christmas). But, at least for me, Christmas is a good time. The Christmas scripts I like celebrate Christmas. — By the way, I’m not saying other people won’t like this. Everybody’s different. But you probably don’t want to send *me* one of these ideas unless it’s honestly the most clever version of this sub-genre ever written.
Title: “LAST BREATH”
Genre: Horror
Logline: When a group of college students discover how to get possessed by inhaling the last breath of people who died, they become hooked on the new thrill, until they go too far and unleash terrifying supernatural forces.
Analysis: I know a few of you liked this one, which is why I wanted to include it here – so you know why I passed. What tripped me up was the logistics of it. I couldn’t understand how they did what they did. Did they just look for people who were dying, hang out nearby, wait until it looked really bad for them, then go kiss them at the last second and hope, during the kiss, it was their last breath? How did they time it? Unless they’re killing these people to create the last breath. In which case that needs to be in the logline. Cause now we’re watching a bunch of serial killers. It just seemed a bit too wonky to work. That’s why I didn’t include it.
Title: Not Alone
Genre: Horror (Found Footage)
Logline: On a cutthroat wilderness survival show, a contestant vanishes. The shocking recovery of her bodycam footage unveils a harrowing encounter with a hermetic clan of inbreds that turns her quest for victory into a desperate fight for survival.
Analysis: I played with the idea of including this one but here’s why I didn’t. If you’re going to revive a dead genre (found footage), you need to bring it back in a way that either reinvents the genre or covers a subject matter that’s never been in that genre before. This feels too familiar. That’s one of the frustrating things about writing scripts. You may have a PRETTY GOOD idea. But oftentimes, “pretty good” is what causes a reader to NOT request a script. “Not Alone” looks like it could be pretty good. But hermit inbreds? I’ve seen that before.
I may do more of these another day. But this gives you an idea of the types of loglines I’m pitched. For the most part, they’re not bad. But they aren’t exciting enough to pull the trigger and feature them. What do you guys think? Did I make a mistake not including any of these?
