Guess what time it is? It’s time to venture into the SECOND ACT!
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! you say.
Don’t worry, my screenwriting salsolitos. Just like The Beatles, I’m going to hold your hand.
For those of you new to the site or you infrequent visitors, I’m doing a 13 week “Write a Screenplay” Challenge, where I guide you through the process of writing a screenplay step by step. If you missed the first few weeks, you can find them here:
As of today, you should have written 21 pages. That means you’ve completed your inciting incident (located near page 12-15) but are not quite at the end of your first act (page 25). So today, we’ll be covering the break into Act 2, as well as the first sequence of Act 2.
Now I heard some grumbling last week about 3 pages a day being too difficult. Come on, guys. Seriously? That’s one scene. You only have to write a single scene. You’re telling me you can’t write a scene in a day??
Maybe this will help. Brendan O’Brien and Andrew Jay Cohen said that when they were trying to figure out their script, “Neighbors” with director Nicholas Stoller, they’d pitch him a bunch of directions they could go, thinking he’d pick one and let them go write it.
Instead, Stoller would say, “Well let’s try that version right now.” “What do you mean right now?” they’d ask. “Let’s sit down and write it and see if it works?” “You mean write the script… now??” “Yeah.” And they’d sit down and write the whole thing over a few days. If it didn’t work, they’d try a different take.
The point is, you’re capable of one scene a day. Don’t be a perfectionist. Just write.
Okay, on to this week’s challenge. You’ve got between 4-8 pages before the end of your first act. If your hero is in a refusal of the call situation (Luke Skywalker claims he can’t join Obi-Wan because he must stay and help his Uncle on the farm), this will be the last bit of resistance your character experiences before accepting that they have to go on their journey (pursue their goal).
If your hero isn’t refusing the call, this is the last few pages of logistics before they pursue their objective. Indiana Jones don’t refuse no call. He just packs his bags and prepares for the fun. If your character doesn’t have any say in the matter, the forces of the story will simply kick them out on their journey, much like a bird kicks its babies out of the nest to see if they can fly. Tough love, amirite?
Now in some cases, a journey is literal. Rey’s journey in The Force Awakens takes her across the galaxy. Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman take a road trip to Vegas in Rain Man. Joy has to travel deep into the recesses of Riley’s mind in Inside Out.
Other times, it’s more symbolic. As long as your character is constantly pursuing something, even if they’re stationary, it’s considered a journey. To use the aforementioned Neighbors as an example, our heroes may be inside the same house the whole movie, but their “journey” consists of trying to get the frat next door kicked out.
So the first 15 pages of the second act are a unique time in a script. Your heroes are going off on their journey, but since we can’t throw the kitchen sink at the audience right away, this section tends to be more of a “feeling out” period for the characters. Maybe they’re feeling out each other (“Bad Grandpa”) or feeling out the situation (In a heist flick, the characters might scout out the bank they’re planning to rob, or the team they’re trying to recruit).
The late Blake Snyder, whose book “Save The Cat!” is somehow still the best selling screenwriting book out there despite Scriptshadow Secrets being available, famously termed this section, “Fun and Games.” Since Blake mainly wrote comedies, this was meant to define the period in the script where you showed off the promise of your premise.
The best example of this is probably super-hero origin stories. This is the moment when Spider-Man or Ant-Man first get their powers and play around with them. But it can also be applied to other genres. In Jurassic Park, it’s seeing the dinosaurs for the first time. In The Equalizer, it’s when Denzel starts administering justice on the locals.
If all of this is confusing, however, or it doesn’t feel like it applies to your movie, don’t worry. There’s a backup. What’s that backup?
SEQUENCES
Divide your script into a series of eight 12-15 page sequences. You’ve already finished the first two sequences. That was your first act. Now you’re on your third. You have to fill up 15 more pages. The easiest way to do this is to give your characters an objective they have to meet by those 15 pages. That way, you don’t have to worry about this giant chasm-filled void of a second act. You only have to write 5-7 scenes getting your hero to the end of that sequence goal.
A good example is the Mos Eisley sequence in Star Wars. We’re officially on our journey into the second act. What’s the goal here? The goal is to get a pilot and get the fuck off this planet, since the Empire is chasing us. We experience a series of scenes where our characters come to Mos Eisley, enter a bar, look for a pilot, get a pilot, head to the ship’s hanger, get chased by stormtroopers, then leave. That’s a sequence right there, folks. That’s all you have to do.
You can even use this for non-traditional scripts. Room is a movie that’s basically two long acts. It’s divided in half. But if you look closer, you’ll notice that there are sequences to give the story structure. For example, the fourth sequence of that movie (which would roughly be page 40/45 to page 52/60) is Ma (Brie Larson) planning the escape. That’s a sequence folks. It’s got a goal. It consists of a series of scenes. This stuff isn’t rocket science.
Gravity is a great movie to study for sequencing. It’s evenly broken down into a series of sequences where Sandra Bullock constantly has to get to the next destination, which usually takes between 10-15 pages (no, that is not an excuse to procrastinate!).
So that’s this week’s challenge, guys. You have to get 15 pages into Act 2. Seeing as we finished on page 21 last week, that means you only have to write 19 pages this week, which is LESS than 3 pages a day. Which means no more complaining. I’ll see you next week, with 40 total pages completed. And that’s when we head into the HEART of the second act. Ooh, I can’t wait for that. And by “can’t wait,” I mean, “Shit, that’s going to be terrifying.” Seeya then!
Genre: Drama
Premise: After a priest stumbles across the execution of a Mexican family who were trying to cross the border, he finds himself hunted by the killers.
About: This script sold two years ago in a mid-six-figure deal. The writer, Mike Maples, has been at the game for awhile, with his first and only feature credit, Miracle Run, being made back in 2004. Padre was pitched as being in the vein of No Country for Old Men and A History of Violence. Like I always say, guys, find those buzz-worthy movie titles to compare your script to. Whether it be “Fargo on the moon” or just, “This is the next Seven.”
Writer: Mike Maples
Details: 100 pages – undated
There are two types of screenwriters trying to break into the business. There are the ones who grew up on big fun movies who want to bring those same good vibes to the masses, and there are the ones who want to say something important with their work, who want to make “serious” films.
Take a guess which ones have an easier time getting into Hollywood.
That’s one of the first pieces of advice I’d give to anyone getting into screenwriting. Write something marketable. Yet when I run into one of these serious types, the suggestion of marketability is akin to asking them to copulate with a rhinoceros. They feel like they’re “selling out” if they even consider the masses while writing in their vintage 1982 moleskin notebook. It’s almost as if they’d prefer wallowing in obscurity for the rest of their lives, attempting to push that Afghani coming-of-age story, than break through with a strong horror premise AND THEN write their anti-Hollywood film.
Well if today’s script tells us anything, it’s that it IS possible to sell a thoughtful more serious spec. It doesn’t happen often. But it can happen. Let’s figure out what today’s writer did that was so special.
40 year-old Gideon Moss is a priest who lives just north of the Mexican border. While everyone else in the area is furious about illegal immigrants crossing into their country, Gideon regularly delivers water and food to those at the end of their journey.
One day, while on a run, he stumbles across a recently murdered family of Mexican immigrants. A quick look around and he spots, in the distance, a couple of locals staring at him. Doesn’t take much to add 2 and 2 together.
Figuring they’ve been made, the men, a part of a bigger militia, barge into Gideon’s church later that week during a sermon, round up him and all the Mexicans, take them to the desert, bury them alive, then crucify Gideon on a cross. Gotta give it to these guys for creativity.
Left to bleed out, Gideon escapes, and starts hunting the gang down one by one. Oh, there’s one last problem I forgot to mention. The militia? They’re all cops. So it’s not like our pal Gideon can ask for a helping hand. Lucky for him, and unlucky for the baddies, he has a very military-friendly past.
Okay, so this isn’t exactly an Afghani coming-of-age story, but it fits a rule that I push on writers attempting to write “serious” films. Make sure there’s at least one dead body. While there may be a temptation to mirror real life and call your script ‘realistic,’ the reality is that film is larger than life. You have to have at least one larger-than-life element in your story. A dead body fits that criteria.
Also, if you’re going to write one of these serious scripts, you need to be descriptive. You need to have the power of picture-painting. Your world is decidedly less exciting than 12 superheroes battling each other on an airport tarmac. So you have to make up for that in your ability to place your reader inside your world. A truck can’t just drive. It has to exist, as Maples shows us here: “A rooster tail of dust billows behind the truck and hangs in the still scorched air.”
It should also be mentioned that if you’re going to write this type of script, you have to have the skill to actually pull it off. The most painful scripts to read are the ones where writers without any skill try and weave their way through complex descriptive sentences. For example, they’d re-word the above into… “The truck lampoons the stretch of road with forest trees all around it and shifts into gear like a rocket out of hell.” Honestly, I read a lot of lines like that.
Also, you have to have dialogue skills for these scripts. When someone offers to help Gideon, despite the risks involved, he doesn’t reply, “No, your life is too valuable,” he replies, “Leave it be. Your box is thirty years down the line. No use taking a short cut.” That’s a professional line of dialogue right there. Or later we get this exchange, which takes place between the badass villain and one of his dim-witted minions: “What the fuck is this?” “You just squandered five of the ten words in your vocabulary, son. Keep the rest for later.”
Padre also utilizes two tropes that tend to work well in film. The first is the priest who’s not so priestly, and the second is the cop who’s not so friendly. As we like to preach around these parts, always look for irony in your story. Corrupt cops are as ironic as it gets. So are murdering priests. Usually, you only see one of these in a movie. It was fun to read a script where we got both.
And there were just little professional spikes that set this apart from the average amateur script. For example, a little girl is killed in that scene where the bad guys round up everyone in the church and bury them alive. Now normally, a writer would think that was enough. Nobody likes to see a little girl die. We’ll hate the bad guys even more and want to see them go down.
But Maples makes sure that we SET UP A SCENE WITH THIS GIRL EARLIER. So one of the first scenes is Gideon visiting a nurse friend at the hospital. The nurse gives him drugs to pass to the little girl, who’s sick at home because she’s illegal and can’t afford hospital care. Gideon delivers the medicine to the girl, so that we know her and care about her (not to mention doubles as a Save The Cat moment!). That makes her later death a thousand times more impactful. Amateur writers rarely think to do this sort of thing.
If there’s a knock against the script, it’s that it feels a little familiar. There are usually 3-4 of these kinds of scripts on the Black List each year. And I wasn’t a fan (spoiler) of the revelation that Gideon used to be a Black Ops soldier. It seemed like a lazy choice, and honestly, I don’t think it was necessary. Gideon comes off as badass enough that you don’t need to make him even more badass with some backstory title. But outside of that, this was a strong script.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: If you’re going to write a script like this, be honest with yourself and make sure your writing is at the level required to pull it off. I’m not saying you don’t have to know how to write to write “Neighbors.” But the skill level of putting words together is decidedly less important with scripts like Neighbors or Deeper. With drama, you will be judged more harshly on your writing ability, because your job is to set a mood and a tone with your writing, something that takes a lot of time and practice to master.
Genre: Thriller
Premise: The Megalodon is a giant prehistoric shark thought to be extinct for millions of years. It isn’t. It’s still around. And it’s hungry.
About: “Meg” is coming. It’s coming with Jason Statham. Normally, that’s all you would need to know. But this particular project has been in the works for over a decade, and today’s script is not only a previous take on the concept, but a first draft. Tom Wheeler, the writer here, wrote Puss in Boots for Dreamworks. He also created the 2011 TV series, The Cape. The movie you’ll be seeing in theaters, however, was written (adapted) by Dean Georgaris (Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life) with a rewrite by mega-writer James Vanderbilt (White House Down). Jon Turtletaub will direct.
Writer: Tom Wheeler (adapted from the novel by Steve Alten).
Details: 117 pages – first draft – undated
“No Commander, she isn’t a shark, she’s a Goddamn war machine.”
“Sounds like Godzilla’s coming.”
“Godzilla was on our side. The Meg isn’t.”
Jesus, this script was designed for trailer lines. Why it’s taken Meg so long to become a movie, I have no idea. I mean, it’s a fucking dinosaur shark in modern day. Does a movie sell itself any better than that?
“We have five sensory organs. She has eight. She can feel the electric charge of her prey’s beating heart from hundreds of miles away.”
Come on. Seriously? Can we start counting the money already?
It’s even got humor!
“One more thing. It’s pregnant.”
“How in God’s name do you know that? Are you the father?”
So why hasn’t Meg been made yet despite the movie-friendly premise? One thing I’m realizing is that, with a producer’s desire to make a movie, there is the A-project, the B-project, and the C-project version of said movie. When producers have a script, they want the A-project. They want David Fincher or Ridley Scott, and they want Leonardo DiCaprio or Ryan Gosling. Unfortunately, everybody wants those people.
So after trying to lure those stars in unsuccessfully, you go to the B-project, which is much easier to set up. A recent example is Steve Jobs. Originally, that movie was David Fincher and Christian Bale. A-project. But those guys bailed, and they decided to go with the B-project – Danny Boyle and Michael Fassbender. Granted, that’s as good as a B-project as you’re going to get, but it’s still a B-project.
When both the As and the Bs ignore you, you eventually have to settle for the C-project. As much as I love myself some Jason Statham, he’s C-project all the way.
The thing that takes so long is you always seem to be teased into thinking you’re going to get the A or the B project going. This A-level director is reading the script. That could be a yes! This B-level actor is reading the script. That could be a yes! But then 4 months down the line, they get back to you and tell you they’re not interested, and there goes 4 months.
Some producers will finally say, “Fuck it,” and go to the C-project in order to get the movie made. Others may want that A-project, however. So they go back and and get a rewrite done by an A-list screenwriter or two, which will take another year. And now they go back into the cycle of people trying to secure the A-project elements. Once again they’re waiting months for this director or that actor to read it. And you can now see why movies take so long to get made.
Whether this has anything to do with what took so long with Meg, I don’t know. But Meg is rare in that it’s the kind of movie that could do well in a C-project package. It’s goofy, it’s fun, it’s 80s disaster-movie-esque. It doesn’t need A-list talent.
Meg follows 40-something Jonas Taylor. Jonas was once a hotshot navy sub pilot, until he saw something underneath the water that scared him to shit – a giant shark that ended up eating his co-pilots. Unfortunately, no one believed him, and Jonas ended up at the nut house for six months.
Jonas swore he’d never get near an ocean again, until some old buddies inform him that their son is at the bottom of the ocean after a sub-accident. Jonas reluctantly pilots his way down there to save the man, but encounters, you guessed it, THE SAME GIANT SHARK THAT KILLED HIS BUDDIES YEARS AGO!
Somehow, Jonas survives, gets to the surface, and this time, people believe him. This shark, which Jonas believes is a Megalodon, an enormous shark that died out during the dinosaur age, has discovered that there are lot more things to eat near the surface of the water than in the ocean deep. So he’s going to hang out up here for awhile.
When Meg starts chomping down on surfers and boaters, Jonas and his crew realize that if they don’t kill this motherfucker fast, some really bad shit is going to happen. But can Jonas overcome his Meg PTSD long enough to take this thing down? Only time, and a lot of dead surfers, will tell.
Let’s start off with the annoying stuff. Writers, PLEASE STOP USING COINCIDENCES IN YOUR WRITING!!!
Coincidences in screenwriting are the embodiment of laziness and amateurism. I’ve been seeing so many of these in consult scripts recently. And now I’m seeing them in professional scripts!
This script starts with a sub being attacked by a Meg. That sub crashes to the ocean floor. There’s only one pilot who can get to that floor and save the person in that sub. Jonas. So they go to Jonas, bring him to the site, and we find out that the whole reason Jonas gave this up 10 years ago is because he saw a Meg!!!
What are the chances of this happening? I mean how many times do people see prehistoric never-before-seen dinosaur sharks in their life? And it just so happens that the guy you randomly get to save your friend who got attacked by a Meg also has a history with Megs??
The reason this annoys me is because those types of things have nothing to do with talent. You don’t have to be a talented writer to keep coincidences out of your script. And when you’re going up against the top screenwriters in the world? Guys who DO have a ton of talent? Every little bit helps. So put in that extra effort and avoid coincidences.
Moving to the good stuff, what I always say with these flashy concepts is you need to come up with scenes and moments that are specific to your concept – that can only work with your particular idea. So what I loved here was the scene where Meg attacked a cruise ship. There’s no other movie out there that could’ve done this. Only this one. That’s good writing. Mine the specific scenes that can only work for your script.
Also, with shark movies, it’s really hard to come up with fresh scenes. There are only so many ways to put a boat on the water or surfers in the water and have a shark attack them. So you have to push yourself to come up with something fresh.
I loved the scene where they needed to tag the Meg (with a rifle) so they could track it. The scene takes place on a helicopter, and they move down to the Meg, which is attacking some whales, and Jonas is trying to get a good shot. But the helicopter is shaking and Meg is moving around a lot. So he keeps telling his pilot to get closer. And closer. And closer. All of this knowing that the Meg is capable of leaping 30 feet out of the water. I’ll let your imaginations take it from there.
The point is, when you have common subject matter, take that extra time and find scenes that haven’t been in that type of movie before. These guys were smart. They realized that everything in these movies takes place on the water, so why not move a scene to the air?
And there were other clever writing tricks here. For example, whoever your villain is, you want at least one scene to show how dangerous they are. That shows the audience how much they need to fear that villain. So what’s the opening scene of Meg? A T-Rex goes after a dinosaur, taking it into the water, where a Meg EASILY grabs the T-Rex, thrashes it down, and devours it. What better way to show how dangerous this thing is than showing it take down the most feared predator in the history of our planet?
So what about the plot? Eh, do we really watch these movies for the plot? I mean, look, the plot could’ve been better, lol. It’s pretty standard stuff. Recruit the retired pilot to take down the evil bad thing. You were pretty much 30 pages ahead of the writer all the way through this. But Meg made up for that in pure funosity. This is a fun movie. It’s a turn your brain off blast. If Turtletaub captures that fun, this could do well.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I think there’s something to say for taking classic novels and updating them into something modern audiences would like. Meg is obviously inspired by Moby Dick. So I’ll throw the challenge over to you guys. Give me your modern takes on classic novels that could be turned into cool 2016-appropriate movies.
Genre: Thriller
Premise: A hitman wakes up to find out he’s been transformed into a woman and vows revenge on the doctor who did it to him.
About: Today’s script comes from Walter Hill, the writer of Alien, The Warriors, 48 Hours, and Alien 3. Hill’s career of late has slowed down, though he did direct a Stallone movie four years ago called “Bullet to the Head.” For his most recent screenplay, however, you’ll have to look back to 2002, when he wrote Undisputed, starring Wesley Snipes and Ving Rhames. Tomboy will star Sigourney Weaver, Michelle Rodriguez, and Hill will direct from his own script.
Writer: Walter Hill
Details: 109 pages
It always baffles me how once great writers can disappear into obscurity. I mean, does talent disappear one day? Do you become a worse writer as you get older?
I have a theory on this. Once you prove yourself to Hollywood, the checks and balances go away. And the checks and balances are what kept you honest in the first place. I get it. Nobody wants notes back on their screenplay. Nobody wants to be told: “This section isn’t working.” But when you address a complaint like that, you usually end up making the screenplay better.
Once you’re on top, you can tell people who give you notes to fuck off. Complicating matters is your belief that you’re better now, that with time you have a better understanding of what you’re doing. So it makes sense, in your mind, why you’re telling someone to fuck off. You know better than them.
This leads to a lethargy in the way you approach your craft. Since you’re smarter, you rationalize, you don’t have to work as hard. And eventually that disposition poisons you, drip drip dripping until you’re writing really basic shit that isn’t pushing the envelope on any level.
The thing is, Tomboy isn’t that. If anything, it’s one of the most ambitious screenplays I’ve read all year. The rules are thrown out the window. So does that make this a return to form for Walter Hill? Let’s find out.
50-something Dr. Rachel Kaye, or “The Doctor,” as she will be known, is being kept in a psychiatric hospital for reasons unknown. A couple of doctors have come to interview her to try and comprehend what she’s done. And what she’s done will be the subject of this story.
Meanwhile, we’re listening to a voice over from somebody named “Tomboy.” Tomboy is a guy named Frank Kitchen. Frank is a hitman. He’s very professional. Does his job and never asks questions.
Well, maybe he should’ve asked one here. Frank kills a guy named Sebastian Kaye, another low-life who doesn’t know how to pay up. No big whup, right?
Except a few months later, Frank is flown into the big city to do a new job from someone named Honest John, a guy he’s worked with before. Honest John wants Frank to take someone out, and that’s the plan until Frank is assaulted in his hotel room, knocked out, and wakes up… as a woman.
Through a little investigation, Frank (now “Tomboy”), learns that The Doctor did this to him because the man he killed, Sebastian, was The Doctor’s brother. Killing Frank seemed “so last year.” So instead, she decided to make him suffer by turning him into a chick.
While that’s going on, we keep jumping back to the psyche ward interrogation, where the guys interviewing The Doctor are convinced she’s making this up, specifically Frank.
So the story is, I guess, two-fold. On one end, Tomboy’s trying to get revenge. On the other, the doctors are trying to figure out if Rachel Kaye is lying to them. In the interim, we’re left to wonder, why does any of this matter?
Tomboy is like a strange cross between Silence of the Lambs (with The Doctor clearly filling in for the Hannibal role) and The Usual Suspects (with Frank taking on the Kayser Soze moniker?). Unfortunately, it doesn’t create the dramatic tension of either, and that’s because its structure is way too funky.
Tomboy is telling its story from two different voice over points of view. One is The Doctor, the other Tomboy. This is such a confusing device that it takes a good 60 pages to get used to, especially since we bounce back and forth between them so liberally. And they’re not even being done in a uniform way. In one instance, a character is being interviewed, in the other, we’re getting a straight disembodied voice over. It’s odd.
And if it had worked, I’d be fine with it. But even once you get used to it, you’re not sure why it’s being used. I have no idea why we’re talking to this doctor in the first place. We learn nothing from her that we couldn’t have learned from Tomboy, and in most cases, her voice over disrupted a more dramatically interesting reveal.
For example, Tomboy is trying to figure out who’s done this to him and why. That’s an interesting mystery. Had we only seen this through Frank’s eyes, it could’ve been a good film. Except 30 pages in, in one of The Doctor’s voice overs, she tells us who Frank is, who he killed, and why she did this to him. So the mystery is already solved.
It was at that point that I asked myself, “Why am I still watching this movie?” Everything’s already been laid on the table. What is there left, dramatically, to stay invested? For example, in Silence of the Lambs, we want to see if Clarice is going to save the kidnapped woman! That’s why we keep reading. With The Usual Suspects, we want to find out what happened that night and who Kayser Soze is.
After awhile, I assumed that the reason we were still watching was to see Tomboy get revenge. But we know he doesn’t get revenge because The Doctor is fine. And, to be honest, I don’t care if he does get revenge or not. This doctor turned him into a woman for killing his brother. Sounds like everyone’s at fault here. What do I gain from seeing bad people avenge bad people?
The biggest problem with Tomboy is it complicates the shit out of its presentation, and to what end? If you’re going to make us work like dogs to understand what’s happening, there has to be the fucking payoff of the century at the end. And I can tell you right now without spoiling anything, this payoff wouldn’t have been satisfactory in a Goosebumps movie.
I guess I’m stumped. What’s the reasoning behind making this script so confusing? You could’ve had a cool flick if a guy wakes up, having been turned into a woman, and he/she tries to figure out who did this to him and why. To have another character giving us the answers in real-time along the way, killing the one dramatic element you had going for you (the mystery) was baffling to say the least.
So why is it getting made? It’s got two killer female roles and female roles are hot right now. I wish those roles mattered to the story more. But hey, I guess you can’t have everything.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Sometimes in trying to be too clever, we overcomplicate things, turning what could’ve been a solid screenplay into something messy and confusing. Make sure you have a reason for doing something differently. Don’t just do it because it’s different.
With scripts to write, the anticipation of Top 5 Contest Winners to be announced, and weekend errands to run, how in the world are you going to have time to read and vote on scripts? I have no idea. But give it your best shot!
Title: Sprawl
Genre: Drama
Logline: A homeless teen reconnects with his estranged college-bound friend who happens to be the son of the man he blames for his family’s eviction.
Why you should read: It started with the idea of following a pair of teens as they break into abandoned homes seized during the housing crisis of the mid-2000s and blossomed into this tale of revenge and class warfare at its most basic level. Sprawl builds tension in Jimmy’s silent plotting while marinating in an undertone of separation that often weaves its way into our lives – in this case, leaving the nest for college or having your life changed by some unforeseen circumstance. This is a story that has plagued me for a couple years now – I would love to get the community’s views on the script before I put it out in the world or bash my brains out any further over it. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Title: Kindergarten Detective
Genre: Comedy
Logline: Rocky Stone, a 5 year old detective, investigates the biggest case of his life when a valuable item goes missing in his kindergarten class.
Why you should read: I am one of the writers of Yesterday which made the top-25 of the SS#250. However, I entered two scripts, and this is the other one that didn’t advance. Since submitting, I have done a rewrite and feel Kindergarten Detective is in a better place. I would like to see what the SS community thinks and get some feedback to hopefully get it to the next level.
I grew up loving films like LA Confidential, which was actually the first professional script I ever read when I started learning this screenwriting thing. Kindergarten Detective is my comedy homage to the Noir genre as I recreate the story beats and tropes with kids inside a Kindergarten class.
Title: The Tesla Initiative
Genre: Sci-Fi
Logline: A mild-mannered police officer daydreams of becoming a hero, but when he finds himself mysteriously transported to crimes moments before they occur, the line between fantasy and reality begins to blur.
Why you should read: This script was mostly written covertly at the desk of my ridiculously boring 9 to 5 job. Without a sometimes dangerously lackadaisical approach to my workload and the life-saving properties of ‘ALT & TAB’, it would never have been completed.
The Tesla Initiative is a high concept Sci-Fi idea, but one which is grounded in reality, containing elements of action, comedy and just a little romance – hopefully something that appeals to a wide audience. It also incorporates current hot-button social issues (privacy, surveillance) alongside the fantastical (teleportation!). It even has one of those Second Act twists that people seem to be so darn keen on.
Writing this provided me with a much needed escape from my otherwise mundane daily existence. I hope it’s at least half as enjoyable to read as it was to write.
I’d greatly appreciate any and all feedback from the Scriptshadow faithful.
Title: Somnium
Genre: Sci-Fi Thriller
Logline: A loyal astronaut, scheduled to be on the first mission to Mars, begins having terrifying dreams of the mission going wrong. Then, when the mission is sabotaged, he finds himself the prime suspect.
Why you should read: I’ve been writing for three years now, my script Jack Curious is in the Scriptshadow top 25 at the moment. This script is the script I wrote to teach myself the craft, and while it made the quarterfinals of the Big Break Contest and connected me with some cool people, it’s been sitting on the shelf for the last two years. I’d love the opportunity, with the help of the SS community, to pull it apart and work out how to make it better. I also have most of the budget together to make my narrative feature directing debut (I’ve only done docos so far), and I’m wondering if this could be the script to do it with.
SORRY – THE LINK FOR SUNDAE, BLOODY SUNDAE HAS NOW BEEN FIXED!
Title: Sundae, Bloody Sundae FIXED!
Genre: Horror/Comedy
Logline: When an ice cream social results in a deadly outbreak spreading throughout a nursing home, one elderly resident must overcome his own post-war trauma to battle the undead and prove himself to the woman he loves.
Why you should read: Hello. My name is Walter Melon (no jokes, please. Believe me, I’ve heard every fucking one of them). I’m 76 years young and an aspiring screenwriter. At this point in my life I’ve had plenty of experiences to draw from – fought in Vietnam, married three times (and divorced three times, thank Christ, though that first one was a hellion in the sack if I’m being honest). I was a tugboat captain on the mighty Mississippi, did a little production work on some adult films in the mid 60’s and even tried my hand at circus life. And let me tell you, those goddamned sideshow freaks think they’re the cat’s pajamas, treating us normal folks like we’re the wierdos! Lobster Boy my asshole. That motherfucker was a…sorry. I can get pretty worked up as you can see. Old wounds never heal. They fester, let me tell you. But I tend to ramble as I get on in years. Like I was saying, this is my second screenplay (my first was a World War 2 yarn, but I didn’t really know what I was doing at the time and it turned out to be a real piece of shit, so I don’t really count that one.) This story here is based on a true experience, one that involved myself and my best friend Albert Miller – the man who saved Picket Farms Nursing Home. Well, fact of the matter is, he didn’t really save but a handful of us – most of the residents were killed. But he saved my hide – more than once. And I thought his story needed to be told. He may be a deaf old bastard, but he’s one tough sonofabitch and I’d walk through fire for that man. I’d love to hear what the younger generation thinks about my latest effort. Thanks to anyone for taking the time.
Sincerely, Walter Melon
PS – Did I mention this was a true story? Hell, at least I think it is. I can’t remember shit anymore.
WM
