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Genre: Biopic
Premise (from writer): Non-believers saw her as a heroic warrior crusading to enforce the separation of church and state, but to the believers she delighted in tormenting, she was the devil incarnate. This is the true story of the irreverent, at times poignant, and always controversial Madalyn Murray O’Hair.
Why You Should Read (from writer): I’m the writer of ScriptShadow’s #2 winner Pâtisserie, and after watching Trumbo recently, the acclaimed biopic on the Communist screenwriter starring former TV star Bryan Cranston, I dusted off this screenplay I wrote before Pâtisserie that can’t seem to get any traction. Is it the subject matter? The timing? The writing? The jackboot of religion keeping it down? :) I wrote Not a Prayer with another TV star, Roseanne Barr, in mind believing she’s due for a resurgence as a dramatic actress. She even expressed an interest, but nothing has come of it…so far.
Writer: Michael Whatling
Details: 117 pages

I know Michael wanted Roseanne Barr. But come on. We all know who needs to play this part.

I’m going to be totally honest here. We’ve got a biopic. The featured subject matter is atheism. That is not the way I want to spend my Thursday night. And that might be my answer to Whatling’s Why You Should Read question right there. This is subject matter you force yourself to read. It’s not subject matter you get excited over. It’s like that film that just debuted at Sundance about that newswoman who committed suicide on the air. It was too dark and dreary for everyone.

The only thing that saves a script like this is if it’s great. I will pray for that (sorry, I had to). Because before opening a page here, this sounded like it could be a first class trip to Boredom Town.

Not a Prayer’s structure is a bit odd. We start out in 1995 watching a group of people hanging out at someone’s home (Madalyn’s?) discussing the possibility of getting some money. One of these people is an older Madalyn Murray O’Hair, who her caretaker, Robin, tells us, used to be the most hated woman in America.

We then cut back to Baltimore, 1960, when Madalyn was 41 years old. Madalyn finds out that her 14 year-old son, Bill, has to pledge his allegiance to God every morning at school, and freaks the hell out. How dare anyone make her son pray to God. The Constitution separates church and state and yet here the schools are, mixing them up together like some evangelical stew.

So she complains. And the school tells her to get lost. And then she complains louder. And soon the whole country learns about her crusade, and since in 1960, the U.S. was a lot more religious (except for Johnny Carson apparently), everyone spews their hatred at Madalyn and tells her she’s the devil.

This may have scared away most folks. Not Madalyn. Madalyn takes her message to the churches and the talk show circuit, appearing on The Tonight Show, and at any church show she can find. For some reason, religious types keep letting her on, mostly so they can call her the devil.

As the script continues, we jump back and forth to many time periods in Madalyn’s life, including the present, where that mysterious “hang out at Madalyn’s house” storyline patters along. It’s a strange part of the story, as we watch two people we don’t know, a man and a woman, move from room to room flirting a lot. I didn’t know what to make of it.

Eventually (spoiler alert), we realize that that present day (1995) storyline is chronicling a murder plot. It turns out that people wanted to steal Madalyn’s money, so they came to her place, killed her and her caretaker, and then stole a bunch of gold. It’s quite the fancy ending for a script that’s, essentially, a cradle-to-grave biopic.

You’ll have to excuse the vagaries of my plot synopsis. To be honest, my eyes were glazing over by the midpoint.

What I’ve found with these “disrupter” character movies, is that one of two things need to happen. One, we need to root for what they’re doing. Or two, if we’re not rooting for what they’re doing, we need to UNDERSTAND why they’re doing it. If we can see their position, we can appreciate and respect their plight.

I definitely wasn’t rooting for Madalyn in any way. First of all, she’s a bitch. She seems like one of those “shit-stirrer for no reason” people. And she was illogical. The level of hardship brought onto her family by this choice was disproportionate to what she was getting out of it. I mean if you don’t believe in God, just don’t say anything during the morning pledge. Who cares?

And as far as why she was doing this, I could never figure that out. What was it that made her this way? Especially since we were jumping back in time so much, why not include the moment that shaped Madalyn’s views on religion? Since that moment never came, Madalyn was always stick-thin to me. Someone who complains to complain. That’s not a compelling character.

Is there something here? Can this script be salvaged? I don’t think so. But if I were a studio executive assigned to help the script, this is how I’d go about it. Reshape the present-day storyline. I didn’t know what the hell was going on there. We follow two randos flirting for 2 hours and then OUT OF NOWHERE Madalyn gets murdered??? Why not start with the murder scene, which was supposedly brutal. Let’s see that Madalyn was murdered and now, instead of a traditional cradle-to-crave biopic, you have a bit of a murder-mystery. We’re trying to find out why Madalyn was killed and who killed her.

Then, you definitely need to explain why Madalyn has become the way she is. Who cares if she became friends with Larry Flynt? That’s the kind of stuff biopic writers get lost in. It’s all flash, no substance. You need to be exploring the core of your subject, and figuring out what made them the person they are.

Finally, I would find AT LEAST ONE sympathetic feature of this woman. Being a bitch to be a bitch. Yelling at everyone. Swearing all the time. “I’m right, you’re wrong.” There’s no sympathy for these things. This is an entire life you’re talking about. I’m sure Madalyn had a few nice qualities. Find the nicest, play it up, and now you have an audience who’s going to root for her a little bit.

This one wasn’t for me. The subject alienated me too much. I wish Michael the best though. I continue to think he’s a good writer. ☺

Screenplay Link: Not a Prayer

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

What I learned: When telling anyone about your script, I’m a strong believer that you DO NOT LET ON that it’s older. Don’t say any version of, “I wrote this before Blah Blah” or “I wrote this a long time ago.” And for God’s sake, do not mention “dusting” a script off. No dust in script mentioning, people. Hollywood has a huge aversion to “old.” All they want is the next new thing. So if you wrote your script a long time ago, that’s fine, but I’m giving you permission to lie. Promote it as brand new. You’ll get much more excited responses, I guarantee it.

Hey guys, I’m running around today so I don’t have time for a normal post. But I just wanted to remind everyone who’s struggling with this journey to keep at it. Keep writing. Keep getting better. Your time will come. Unless you’re new to this, I’m sure you’ve had that moment where you’ve wondered if you should give up. Well, here’s something that may make you reconsider that option.

There was an author who became so discouraged with writing that he gave it up, not writing a single word for five years. The thing is, he couldn’t get this one idea out of his head. At a certain point, he couldn’t keep it in any longer. So he broke out the typewriter. “I did not stop writing for a single day for 18 straight months, until I finished the book.” He wrote this book as the husband and father of a family, so he had plenty of excuses to use if he wanted to (“There’s no time!”) But he made that effort to write every single day. That manuscript turned out to be One Hundred Years of Solitude, which would go on to sell over 50 million copies worldwide.

Think about that. You may have the next One Hundred Years of Solitude in you but the world will never get a chance to see it because you gave up. Now that would be a real tragedy.

GET TO WRITING!

What the hell is “The Glut” and why don’t you want to get stuck in it?

Genre: Crime Thriller
Premise: An ex-Marine reluctantly joins the security detail for a pharmaceutical CEO on house arrest, only to find that the detail he’s working for has a sinister plan.
About: Today’s script comes from the writer of one of my favorite scripts ever, Source Code. Not long after Source Code, Ripley sold this script to New Regency. It hasn’t been made yet, which is part of today’s discussion!
Writer: Ben Ripley
Details: 111 pages – Sep 20, 2012 draft

Maybe a comeback actor like Eric Bana works here?

One of the toughest things about the movie business is how many scripts get stuck in “The Glut.” All the big production companies have dozens of projects they’re trying to push through the system. They’re dependent on studios, which ALSO have tons of projects they’re trying to push through the system. The competition to get your film out of that glut and into Productionville is fierce.

Which begs the question: How do you become one of those films? Or maybe the better question is, what kinds of films have no chance of getting out of The Glut?

Getting a film greenlit and/or produced comes down to three things:

a) A major hook that the studio can market in a genre they know how to market.
b) A great role that attracts a big actor.
c) A unique and interesting film that would attract an A-list director.

If you have one of those three things, you’re in position to break out of the pack. And if you have two or three of those things? You’re in the pole position.

If your project doesn’t have any of those things though? That’s when you’ll find yourself in The Glut. Now does that mean your movie will never get made? No. Movies in The Glut get made all the time. But what’s important to understand is that, if you’re in The Glut, your movie is not going to do the work for you. YOU WILL HAVE TO DO THE WORK FOR THE MOVIE.

This is one of the biggest things I’ve learned since starting Scriptshadow. If you don’t possess one of the prime elements, the only way to get your movie made is through the passion of the people pushing it. If you have two or three people who ABSOLUTELY MUST SEE this movie get made and are willing to put years into making that happen? Then the movie will get made. Dallas Buyers Club is a great example of this. I suppose you could argue the film had a good role for an actor, but it was so unmarketable that it was a near impossible sell. But the people behind it loved it so much that they fought eight years to get it made. And they finally did.

This brings us back to the beginning. You have to ask yourself, “Do I want the movie to do the work for me? Or am I willing to do the work for the movie?” If you’re willing to do the work, write whatever the heck you want. A water diviner in 1930. If that sounds like misery to you like it does to me though, you have to hit one of those key areas, with the biggest emphasis being on marketability. This is a very unkind business if your movie can’t be marketed.

I bring all this up because I wanted to know why Empire hadn’t been made. Its writer was coming off of a solid hit with a big buzzed-about screenplay. Why was his new script getting stuck in The Glut? We’ll get into that in a moment. But first, let’s check out the plot.

Former marine Kyle Breuner is in that unenviable position of having to beg for a job. But he’s got a beautiful wife to support and bills on the horizon, so he accepts a security detail gig for a pharmaceutical giant on house arrest.

Nathan Boscov, our resident giant, recently developed an artificial blood that saved thousands of lives. The problem is, it also killed a couple hundred people. For that reason, the cocky Boscov is on trial, and the jury decides his fate tomorrow. In the meantime, Boscov is allowed to go home on house arrest at his swanky upscale high-rise apartment.

The detail making sure Boscov doesn’t bolt is run by the hard-as-nails Frank Roman and his second-in-command, Marquez. These two don’t have time for bullshit, so the job description for Kyle is to shut up and don’t cause any trouble. But almost immediately, Kyle senses something is wrong. On the way to Boscov’s building, he keeps seeing suspicious people, such as a man with dreadlocks who appears at multiple stops on the drive.

Roman senses Kyle’s unease and gives him a final warning. Stop PTSDing or you’re fired. Once at the building, suspicious things continue to happen, such as a late night window washer peering in (who washes windows at midnight??), an unmanned truck sitting across the street, and a chunk of one hundred dollar bills sneakily attached to the bottom of Boscov’s Chinese take-out.

But the clincher is when Kyle goes looking for Boscov’s cell phone, which he’s not supposed to have, and finds it hidden in the bathroom. But it turns out the phone isn’t Boscov’s. It’s Marquez’s. Why the freak is Marquez’s phone hidden in Boscov’s bathroom?? That’s when Kyle realizes what’s happening. This detail isn’t here to keep Boscov in. They’re here to break him out. So Kyle grabs Boscov and goes on the run.

Just when we think we have it all figured out, though, everything gets flipped sideways, and we realize we know nothing. This leads to a final act filled with twists and turns that keeps us guessing all the way until the very last page.

So let’s go back to that question. Why hasn’t Empire broken out of The Glut? There could be a lot of reasons for this that have nothing to do with today’s discussion. But usually a film’s viability to emerge from The Glut comes down to that magical triumverite: hook with a marketable genre, A-list worthy part, A-list worthy directing vehicle. Let’s see how Empire measures up in those areas.

1) Catchy hook in a marketable genre — Empire feels to me like an “on-the-brink” movie. It has a cool premise, but not an overtly exciting hook, like, say, Ripley’s Source Code. I’d say its main hook is its twists, and you can’t really market that. This means more time in The Glut.

2) Part an A-list actor would want to play – Kyle is a cool character, no doubt. I’m not sure he’s the kind of guy an A-lister would die to play though. He rests somewhere in between Tom Cruise’s Jack Reacher and the characters Paul Walker used to play in all those tweener crime thrillers. It’s right on the brink of where it needs to be, which means getting that actor is tougher, which means more time in The Glut.

3) A movie an A-list director would want to direct – Empire’s not unique enough for an A-list director to leap at. This feels more like something an up-and-coming director might want to make, and, unfortunately, it’s harder to get studios to approve these guys, which means more time in The Glut.

With all that said, this is a cool little script. The first 40 pages move you along with a clever combination of tension, dread, and mystery. We feel the tension of nobody wanting Kyle on the job, forcing him to decide whether to rock the boat or collect a check. The dread comes from the suspicious activity Kyle experiences on the way to and at the apartment. And finally, mystery. Who is the dreadlock guy? What is he up to? Why the hell would Marquez’s phone be hidden in Boscov’s bathroom?

Then, Ripley does his classic mid-point turn, where we find out everyone is against Kyle, and the tension is replaced with a fun twisty-turny narrative. You can’t go twist-crazy all the way through your script. The audience will get frustrated. Ripley wisely waits til that second half, and that’s when he hits you with an ever-changing storyline.

If there’s a problem with this script, it’s the stakes and the motivation. Boscov killed people accidentally (at least we think he does for 99% of the movie). So is he really that bad? I kept thinking throughout the script: this dude is a pretty tame villain.

Then there’s Kyle. If he’s got nothing on the line but the pay from this job, why isn’t he walking? There comes a moment in every script where you need to ask your hero, “What’s in this for you?” And if he doesn’t have a good answer? The motivation isn’t sound. Because who risks their lives for nothing?

Without getting into spoilers, some of these questions are answered later. But we need answers (or at least false answers) in the moment so we can go along with the story. And we don’t get those here. This is one of the unique challenges of writing a twist-heavy script where no one is who they seem. You need false answers, false explanations, false motivations. It’s tricky stuff.

But I continue to love Ben’s writing style. I like the way he keeps the story moving. I like the way he uses all the story tools available to him: mystery, suspense, tension, dread, twists. All that was great. What would probably help this script a lot is a bigger villain (a Mexican drug lord as opposed to a pharmaceutical CEO?). Not only would it up the stakes, but it offers you an opportunity to get a flashier actor for the role, which could push the needle closer towards that coveted “green light.”

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

What I learned: Ben Ripley is a master of the time constraint. He built an entire movie out of it with Source Code. Here, he sets it up so that this is Boscov’s last day on house arrest before the jury verdict. Note how this movie DOES NOT WORK unless this time constraint is in place (3 days doesn’t work, 1 week doesn’t work, a month, no). The actions that drive the plot happen specifically because all the characters need to act before Boscov goes back to court tomorrow. That’s the power of a good time constraint.

Today’s script and the film it spawned just became THE big story at Sundance this year, selling for a boatload of money. But is this classic indie drek here to depress us to death, or is it the next Ordinary People?

Genre: Drama
Premise: When his brother dies a long-time-coming death, a janitor beaten down by tragedy learns that he’s reluctantly been made his nephew’s legal guardian.
About: So far, this is the big movie coming out of Sundance. It sold for 10 million bucks to Amazon, and is written by embattled writer-director Kenneth Lonergan. You may remember Lonergan as the guy who wrote and directed the movie, “Margaret,” a film that, even though it had some of the biggest stars in the business in it, was stuck in purgatory because Lonergan refused to edit the sprawling film down. As a result, it wasn’t released until eight years later. I reviewed the script on the site to see if it was, as some had proclaimed, a “masterpiece,” and instead found very good evidence as to why the film wasn’t being let anywhere near a movie theater. It was a sprawling unfocused mess. Manchester-by-the-Sea is supposed to be a lot tighter, and is said to give star Casey Affleck an Oscar-worthy performance.
Writer: Kenneth Lonergan
Details: 134 pages (July 25th, 2014 draft)

The sure-to-be-famous scene where Casey Affleck beats up a lobster cage.

Don’t you just love feeling lousy?

I know that’s how I like to start my days.

Well, lucky for you, I’ve got a script that’s depressing as shit!

Look, I like character pieces when they’re done well. I don’t need a huge plot to be happy. But what I do want from my character pieces is some element of hope. I can get through the depression if I feel like there’s hope on the other side.

I just read this dystopian book, actually, The Dog Stars, by Peter Heller, and this book is really depressing. Spolier Alert: The dog dies. And humanity is screwed. And the only people left on earth kill and eat each other. And the main character is lonely as shit. But you know what? The book eventually brings us hope. We see that there’s a silver lining at the end. And it makes the dark journey we invested in worth it.

But if you’re just going to depress me for two hours… we got a problem.

Manchester-By-The-Sea follows Lee, a 40 year-old janitor who sleepwalks through life. This guy’s clearly gone through some heavy shit, and he’s just not interested in fighting anymore. Well, more bad news is on the way for old Lee. His brother just died.

Luckily, this was expected. Joe, his bro, had congestive heart failure and had been fighting it for awhile. So everyone knew it was just a question of when. Even with that though, there wasn’t really a plan put in place for how to handle the situation. All Lee knows is that he has to go pick up Joe’s son, 15 year-old Patrick, to tell him that his dad has passed.

Patrick, who’s not the most likable kid (he has two girlfriends, neither of whom know about the other), is casual about the news. He wants to know what happens to all the money. Does it come to him? Since his alcoholic mom disappeared years ago, he figures that’s the plan. But since he’s only 15, Lee will take the money, as well as become Patrick’s guardian. This is news Lee wasn’t expecting and his first reaction is “no fucking way.”

The two spend the rest of the day doing person-just-died errands, debating where Patrick is going to live, since Lee refuses to let him live with him. During this time, we flash back to previous moments in their lives, most of which are arbitrary. Then, just when we’re getting comfortable, we’re hit with a big one. One night, a drunken Lee started a fire in the fireplace then went to get more beer. When he got back, his house was on fire, and his three young daughters were crispier than overcooked bacon.

Hey, I told you this was going to be depressing, didn’t I! The rest of the story follows Lee and Patrick around with the vague impression that at some point, Lee will officially decide whether to be Patrick’s guardian or not. At the rate things are going here, my guess is probably not.

Let’s start off with the dreaded double-tragedy. Why does it have to be a double tragedy?? Isn’t one tragedy enough for a film?? I guess there wasn’t enough depression so we needed to add more. I mean a grown man dying of heart failure is weak-sauce. Kill three young girls. Now we’ve got a picture, see!

To be honest, I don’t know what to make of this. This kind of screenplay is so out of my comfort zone, it’s hard to analyze it. Lonergan likes real life moments. He likes authenticity. He doesn’t want Hollywood bullshit. I get that.

But you have to realize that you’re making a movie. Movies aren’t life. They’re not 80 years long. They’re two hours long. So just the fact that you’re cutting 79 years out means you’re making choices as to what’s interesting and what isn’t. You’re “Hollywood-izing” your story whether you want to admit it or not.

So don’t pretend like you’re keeping it real by avoiding flashier plot points. For example, there’s a brief moment where it’s hinted at that Lee’s wife may have left him for Joe, giving us a meatier and more complicated familial drama to sort through. But the hint turned out to be nothing, keeping things straight, and for the most part, uneventful.

There are no plot developments in the present-day storyline. It’s literally like if you and I got in a car, did errands, didn’t really like each other, and then went our separate ways after two hours. That’s this movie. We needed more to happen. We needed drama. We needed an unexpected development or two.

And then there’s Lee. They’re saying Casey Affleck is going to get an Oscar nomination for this. I guess you can get a nomination then for looking really depressed? Cause, honestly, Lee doesn’t do much else. He just drives Patrick around and stumbles over his words a bunch. That’s his main character trait, saying some version of “I can’t do that… I can’t do that,” over and over again.

Which brings me to the dialogue. The dialogue here is probably some of the most realistic you’ll ever read. People don’t really say much. They stumble over their words a lot. Half the script is dual-line dialogue, implying that everyone’s talking over each other. All this gives the dialogue a “real-world” feel. But again, it’s like listening to a real life conversation. Real life conversations are boring. Your job as a writer is to dramatize dialogue, and Lonergan doesn’t do a lot of that. I guess because he’s afraid of “Hollywoodizing” everything.

Finally, one of the things I hate most in stories is one-note characters. The same emotion over and over again. Especially if it’s a negative emotion. Cause then you’re just sucking us into Depressionville. Because the truth is, I wanted to root for this guy. Lonergan did a nice job making us like him at the beginning (he works long hours as a janitor and has to do really shitty stuff just to get by). But the second he picks up Patrick, this becomes a one-note movie all the way.

And that’s my biggest thing. One-note is boring. No matter how you spin it. One of my favorite scripts I’ve reviewed, After Hailey, has a similar set up (guy becomes legal guardian of teenager) and it works because they bring other emotions into it. With even just a teensy bit of humor here, this could’ve been so much better.

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

What I learned: Beware of one-note movies – movies with one emotion throughout. There are examples of them working in the past (Ordinary People comes to mind) but they are rare. Remember that an audience best feels a note when they have another note to compare it against. Depression hits more squarely when it’s juxtaposed against humor. Lonergan got that right in his debut film, You Can Count On Me, but he seems to have forgotten it here.

We’ve just watched a movie make more money at the box office than any other movie in history. There’s a movie in theaters shot by one of the world’s best directors and starring one of the best actors that has garnered multiple Academy Award nominations (The Revenant). We’re a month and a half away from two of the biggest superhero films in history, Batman vs. Superman and Captain America: Civil War.

For those who would rather view their entertainment in the comfort of their own home, Netflix has offered its customers a variety of enormously budgeted high profile shows, including House of Cards, Daredevil, and Jessica Jones. It seems wherever you go, there’s tons of entertainment to choose from.

And yet despite this, when I run into people outside of the movie world, normal people on the street, they all only want to talk about one thing: Making A Murderer. It’s become such a part of the cultural lexicon that “Have you seen Making a Murderer?” is officially the new, “What’s up?”

When anything breaks out of its genre space and becomes a universally known phenomenon, every screenwriter serious about this craft need stand up and pay attention. The world is telling you what people respond to (I believe this to be true for TV, movies, songs, plays, any form of entertainment). And so today, I wanted to look at this show to see if we could glean any screenwriting lessons from it.

Before we start, however, I’ll offer my quick opinions on the show, since everybody has one. Spoilers follow throughout the post, of course. Personally, I think Steven Avery is guilty. I believe the show leaves out a bunch of crucial pieces of information on the prosecution’s side in order to make Steven a more sympathetic protagonist. And when you think about it, they had no choice. If anyone was certain that Steven committed this crime, the entire documentary implodes. We have to want to root for the guy for everything to work. The filmmakers knew this, and so strategically withheld key pieces of evidence so that we’d side with Avery.

As far as documenting a real life case where you’re supposed to be impartial, this was a slimy move. But if you’re looking at this as pure entertainment, it was a genius move, because, again, we want to root for this guy. We want to believe the system is corrupt. We want to see that system go down. And that’s the first of a few lessons Making a Murderer can teach us in regards to screenwriting.

I want to go through five storytelling lessons derived from this series that we can apply to our own screenplays, to give them a similar chance to break out and become mainstream hits.

1) The system makes you play by one set of rules, while they get to play by another (aka “corruption”) – This setup ALWAYS WORKS folks. As members of society who are constantly nickled and dimed by the system (taxes on everything, parking tickets for being a minute late to your car, police harassment), when that very system makes a mistake and doesn’t cop to it? It makes our blood boil. We want them to pay just like we’ve had to pay our whole lives. This is the crux of why Making a Murderer works. These guys screwed up by putting an innocent man in prison, and then, to avoid paying for it, they framed him for murder.

2) We hate bullies – It doesn’t matter if it’s the bully at the schoolyard or a giant corporation throwing all its legal resources to bury the little guy who’s come up with a better way to do what they do. We hate when the big guy picks on the little guy. And that’s why we react so strongly to the state bullying Steven Avery.

3) We love the underdog – We always root for the underdog. And the more of an underdog they are, the more we’ll root for them. A simple and powerful way to come up with a story is to start with a small fry being pitted against a giant fry.

4) Wrongly accused – We HATE when our main character has been wrongly accused. We want to scream out to the system, “They’re innocent!” Harrison Ford and The Fugitive started this trend back in the 90s and it hasn’t failed to deliver since. We’ll always get heated when someone who’s innocent is thrown in prison.

5) Add a twist to your murder-mystery – This is probably the most important tip coming out of this show. Murder is everywhere in storytelling. But a dead body and a few suspects is too generic. We’ve seen that setup too many times already. You have to find a twist that makes your murder-mystery FRESH. The genius of Making A Murderer is its unique twist on the genre. What if someone who was accused of murder had already spent years in prison for a crime they didn’t commit? That adds a whole new dimension to the murder, one that makes you prone to believe the man, no matter how extensively the evidence is stacked against him.

When you put all these things together, you can see why this show has taken off. For me, the first 5 episodes of the show were genius. I loved 6-8 as well. But I found myself passively watching once I got to 9 and 10. I’m a huge believer that when you hit the end of your main character’s plight, the story’s over. And after episode 8, we knew Steven Avery’s fate. The stuff with his son or nephew or whatever (the focus of 9 and 10) was never that interesting to me. He wasn’t as sympathetic of a character. I know he was taken advantage of but for some reason I didn’t care. And just from a storytelling perspective, you want to wrap up your secondary character’s storyline before you wrap up your main character’s storyline. Making a Murderer did it the opposite way, sending the show out on a whimper instead of a bang. What did you guys think?