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Genre: Thriller
Premise: (from writer) A mother and daughter held hostage at an isolated farmhouse struggle to survive as one of their captors grows increasingly unstable.
Why You Should Read: (from writer) This script was a Nicholl quarterfinalist in 2011. It’s gotten some attention in the past, but has always managed to get lost in the shuffle. I thought this would be a good opportunity to inject new life into a script I feel has been overlooked. I don’t claim the concept is unique, but I do believe the execution is. I wrote it partly to prove to myself I could write a contained thriller and still be original. It’s difficult to stand out once the budget gets below a certain level, but I think this script shows a good effort. It’s got strong structure, three dimensional characters, and has something to say I’ve wanted to express in a story for a long time. It’s a quick read in both style and page count and I’m confident you’ll enjoy it.
Writer: Breanne Mattson
Details: 100 pages

Halle Berry for Audrey?

I don’t know what it is with you Scriptshadow readers. But you always seem to endorse the darkest shit! Last week it was child murder. This week it’s moms and daughters being tied up and threatened in every way imaginable. There’s even a rape backstory. What ever happened to happy stuff!? Why can’t there be a script about ducklings and puppies? Maybe a ducklet and a puppy named Pupplestor team up to solve a farmland crime? It can be a prequel to Babe. I don’t know. This is probably a reflection of me. Something about my writing brings you dark-minded folk to my site. I must be a sicko.

With that being said, today’s script, while hurting my happiness, is actually quite good. The story flies by. Lots of conflict. Lots of drama. Lots of suspense. You could do a lot worse than Warning Shot, that’s for sure. But why hasn’t it done more for Breanne? Let’s throw on our script-fighting capes and find out!

30 year old Audrey is a former valedictorian who dropped out of college for reasons unknown (reasons we’ll find out later). She’s got an 8 year old daughter, Cheyenne, who’s the only thing that gets her through the day. And those days aren’t pretty. Her diner tips barely get above the 2 dollar variety and she’s THIS close to getting evicted from a trailer park. That’s when you know things are really bad.

Lucky for her, her grandfather dies! Well, not “lucky,” but you know what I mean. He left Audrey his farm, and that means her and her daughter at least have a roof over their heads. Little do they know, across town, this loser named Bobby doesn’t know about the grandfather’s death. And Bobby’s grandfather (who’s on his deathbed) has been trying to get the water rights from that man for 60 years. Bobby thinks if he can get them, his grandfather will finally respect him.

Bobby’s plan is to hire the ultra slimy Rainy and his dope head pot dealer, Juarez. The two have simple instructions. Go get the old man to sign the rights away to the water but don’t kill him. Well, when they get there, they find that Audrey and Cheyenee are there instead. And that Grandpa is dead.

So they tie them up, wondering what to do. And that’s when the loose cannon, Rainy, starts getting other ideas – as in maybe he’ll have a little fun before doing business. The threat of rape quickly turns into the threat of murder, but it’s when an innocent church goer, David, comes by and accidentally sees what’s going on, that Rainy loses his shit. He ties all of them up, with plans to kill the lot.

This is WAY more than Juarez bargained for, and he’s eventually able to restrain Rainy, but in this house, on this day, nobody has control of the situation for long. The guns and the power keep shifting, leaving small windows for the weak to make their move. But nothing will prepare anybody for when Bobby shows up. He wants this deal done and he wants it done now. And he doesn’t care who’s standing at the end of the process.

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever 100% agreed with a writer’s “Why You Should Read” until today. This script is EXACTLY what Breanne says it is. The concept’s a little bland. The structure’s really tight. It moves fast. It feels different from other contained thrillers. Understanding your work well enough to know exactly how it comes off is a talent in itself.

The thing holding it back is that lack of a compelling concept. I mean, if I’m a producer and I’m trying to figure out how to market this movie, I’m confused. What are you selling? A movie about a bad guy who ties up a mom and her daughter? That kind of thing happens in almost EVERY MOVIE at some point. It’s an eventual part of every story. So to make something so ubiquitous the hook of your film? That’s not going to get people excited.

I suppose if you got movie stars to play the parts, it might make some money, but these days, with more and more star vehicles going straight to VOD, it’s just really hard. I mean maybe that’s your answer. You get this made as an independent film for a small price and then go straight to VOD. That could happen. But as someone looking at it from the other side, I need to get excited about the concept. And I’m not. Which sucks. Because it is well written, and like Breanne says, well-executed.

In addition to those things mentioned, it’s got a great villain in Rainy. I mean this guy is scary shit. This is highlighted in the section where Rainy doesn’t have a gun. Juarez has taken charge and put Rainy “in the corner” until Bobby gets there. Despite the fact that Rainy doesn’t have a weapon, he’s the scariest he is all movie. The way he grills Audrey with probing questions, you just know he’s biding his time. You know he’s got something up his sleeve. The dude sends chills up your spine!

The dialogue here was really good too (with the exception of Cheyenne, who spoke too much like an adult at times). There’s a strong emotional anchor with Audrey and her daughter. Over the course of the script, we learn that Cheyenne may have not been in the plans, which forces Audrey to tell Cheyenne the truth about her father. And I mean come on. A mother and daughter in a life or death situation? Even if you don’t add a lick of backstory, we’re automatically rooting for them. So the script pretty much has us right from the start.

And then there’s the metaphor (spoiler) behind the story, which is obviously the fact that Audrey was raped in college (which is why she had Cheyenne) and then the farm’s water rights weren’t even hers. They belonged to the city. Which meant none of this ever had to happen. Just like the guy who raped her in college, all they had to do was ask. So that certainly adds an extra layer to the story that makes it hit harder.

The only weak story element was how Bobby’s plan didn’t make sense. He was going to come here, get this woman to sign the rights away, then kill her? It doesn’t take the Dateline Team to figure out that a woman signing over the rights to her land then getting killed a day later may be connected somehow. So I would’ve liked if Bobby’s plan was a bit more tidy, seeing as he’s supposed to be a smart guy.

Breanne is a really good writer. But this is a hard sell.  If I were her, I’d contact every big actress with a daughter, preferably young daughters.  Protecting your daughter is such a primal instinct I could see one of them making a big connection with this material.  And once you have the actress, you have a chance to make your movie.  I’ll be keeping an eye on Breanne.  This is a solid effort.  I can’t wait to see what she does with a bigger concept.

Script link: Warning Shot

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

What I learned: When you’re doing one of these contained thrillers, it’s all about changing the dynamic to keep the story fresh. Cause you can’t change the setting. So changing who’s in charge, what information is revealed, when new characters are inserted – anything that changes the dynamic in that room – that’s how you keep a low-location story fresh. So here, Rainy starts out in charge. Then David shows up. Then Juarez takes charge. Then Bobby shows up and takes charge. Changing the dynamic keeps the story from becoming stagnant.

Genre: Sci-fi Comedy
Premise: A plucky teenage boy is accidentally sent 30 years into the past, where he inadvertently prevents his parents from meeting, in the process threatening his very existence.
About: This is the very first draft of Back to the Future, written in 1981.
Writers: Robert Zemeckis & Bob Gale
Details: 110 pages (but the formatting here is really tight – this feels more like 130 pages) 1981 draft

I swear. I tried to see Thor 2 this weekend (as I said I would in my newsletter). With every fiber of my being I tried to go. At one point I actually constructed a catapult on my couch (from nearby items like couch pillows and a floor lamp) that would physically propel me towards the door so that I’d be forced to go.

But in the end, I just couldn’t (make the catapult work or see the film). I never did get into the whole Greek God thing in English anyway. Much like my distaste for Doritos and Everybody Loves Raymond, they were wisps of popular culture I never understood.

Instead, I decided to do something different today – read the first draft of Back To The Future! From what I’d heard, it wasn’t very good. The word on the street was that every studio in town passed on it. True, neither Zemeckis or Gale had done much at the time (Zemeckis’s first movie, Used Cars, had just come out and done so-so at the box office) but even if they had, nobody was drinking the McFly juice yet.

And therein lies the reason I must review it. I want to show screenwriters what can be done with a bad script. As long as there’s a good idea at the core, you can turn something bad into something good. It takes time (it took these guys 3 years). But if the script has potential and you’re willing to put in the work, there’s hope.

Back to the Future Alpha is essentially the boring version of the movie you’ve come to love. The script starts off strangely with Marty McFly perfecting his video pirating skills. He’s even trying to get Doc to streamline his bootlegging process so he can sell films out on the street before they hit theaters! I’m not kidding. And this is 1981!

Marty hangs around Doc’s place before and after school, shooting the shit. Doc’s always talking about power sources and how he needs more power for his latest project – oh, and there’s a secret locked room that he refuses to allow Marty to see.

Marty’s parents are both here, but their personalities haven’t been fleshed out yet. Likewise, Biff is operating on about 25% of his eventual personality. Marty’s still got a girlfriend (her name’s Suzy) whom he passes notes to in long classroom scenes where the teacher warms about the upcoming nuclear apocalypse.  There are no siblings here, though (and therefore no famous disappearing picture).

One day Marty’s hanging out at Doc’s and, out of curiosity, pours some Coke into one of his devices. This causes a chemical reaction that turns out to be exactly what Doc needs for his mysterious behind-the-locked-door project. Coke (due to its secret formula) actually plays a big part in this version of the story.

We finally learn that the thing behind the door is a time machine. It needs incredible amounts of energy. And the mix of Coke and plutonium generate that energy. There is no car here. No 88 miles per hour. Just a machine in a lab. CIA agents eventually show up at that lab looking for the plutonium Doc stole. There’s a shoot out, and Marty accidentally gets caught in the machine and travels back 30 years.

After realizing where he is, Marty runs to his mom’s house and she’s, of course, his age now. He asks her what’s going on. She doesn’t know what he’s talking about or who he is. Marty passes out and when he wakes up, Doc has come to pick him up (Marty had Doc’s name in his pocket from earlier, so they called him).

Doc seems to know what’s happened right away in this version (Marty doesn’t need to convince him he’s from the future), and sets about getting Marty home. He tells Marty he MUST stay in his house in the meantime so he doesn’t upset the space-time continuum. But Marty gets bored and heads to school (because, why not!) where he sees his mom again, who starts falling in love with him.

From that point on, everything happens pretty much the way it happens in the film, except for the final sequence, where instead of the clock tower, we get Doc and Marty driving to Nevada to channel energy for the time machine from the very last nuclear bomb test in America. And in a sequence that would come back to haunt moviegoers worldwide three decades later, Marty will have to hide inside a refrigerator to survive the nuclear blast.

The biggest change you see from this draft to the final one is that of URGENCY. Everything in the final draft MOVES FAST. Characters are always late. Characters are always on the move. Characters always have somewhere to be.

In this version, Marty’s just hanging out at Doc’s place with all the time in the world. Then he’s hanging out in his classroom with his teacher droning on about nuclear bombs. The story ISN’T MOVING. It’s GETTING READY TO MOVE. And that’s one of the major things that rewrites change. You locate all the places in your story that are GETTING READY to happen, and you replace them with things that HAPPEN.

Take Doc’s time machine, for instance. In this version, Doc’s still in the process of building it. He hasn’t come up with all the answers yet. This means four or five scenes of Doc wondering how he’s going to do it. In the movie, DOC’S ALREADY FIGURED THIS OUT. He already has the time machine ready. So the story’s already on the move. He calls Marty to the mall and we’re off to the races.

Or look at the classroom scene. The final draft would NEVER have a classroom scene. Characters sitting around while a teacher slowly doles out exposition? No way! Instead, Marty’s late for class. He’s getting stopped in the hallway by the principal. He’s trying to set up his date with Jennifer. We don’t have time for class! There’s always somewhere to be!

You also see a lot of forced set-ups here, which is one of the easiest ways to spot an early draft. Take Marty’s skateboarding. Obviously, one of the key scenes in the film is when Marty outmaneuvers Biff in Town Square on a makeshift skateboard. So we need to set that up. In this version, in the first act, Marty is walking home with Suzy and some kid’s skateboard shoots off towards Marty. Marty hops on it, does all these ridiculous tricks for no reason (other than to set up he’s a master skateboarder), then hands the board back.

Contrast that with the final draft. The skateboard is an integral part of Marty’s everyday routine. It’s how he gets around. We see him hop on it and hurry to school as early as the second scene of the film. That’s one area where rewriting helps, is taking those isolated ideas and interweaving them into the fabric of your screenplay.

The same thing can be said for stuff like the Clock Tower, the lightning bolt, the car-as-time-machine, the 88 miles per hour. We saw seeds of those ideas here, but they needed time to grow in order to be realized. Doc is living in the main building in town, which looks like it eventually became the Clock Tower. And the idea of them only getting one shot at this lightning bolt originated from the one and only shot at catching energy from the nuclear bomb test.

Speaking of the ending, that was another huge problem with this draft. You don’t keep your characters in one location for 90% of the movie, then put them in a car and drive them on a six hour road trip for the climax. It feels clumsy and disjointed. I’m guessing Zemeckis and Gale eventually realized this, which necessitated a more local solution. Hence the atomic bomb turning into a lightning bolt.

Also of note is the movement of a key plot point that really helped the structure of the second act. In this version of Back To The Future, Marty doesn’t disrupt his parents from meeting right away. Instead, he runs into his mom, then goes to Doc’s, then Doc tells him to hang out while he works on sending him back to the future.

Despite Doc hammering Marty on how dangerous it is to interact with anybody, Marty leaves the house and heads to school out of boredom. It’s only then that he screws up the meeting between his mother and father. This, of course, makes zero sense. Why would Marty go to school and potentially endanger his existence if he doesn’t have to?

In the final draft, they wisely changed the position of this plot point to maximize motivation. Marty saves his father after he falls out of the tree, getting hit by the car INSTEAD of his dad, and getting taken into his mom’s house, where she falls in love with him (instead of his father). All of this happens BEFORE he meets Doc. This way, when Marty and Doc game plan sending him back, they realize that Marty has already endangered his existence by having his mom fall for him instead of his dad. Marty now HAS NO CHOICE but to go to school and correct his mistake.  This works so much better than, “Eh, I’m bored. Let’s go to High School.”  Right?

I think to some of you, all of this is obvious. “Yeah, it was an early draft. Of course it wasn’t as good as the final draft.” But this is the draft Zemeckis and Gale were originally trying to sell. And that’s the problem. I see a lot of writers going out there with drafts like this. Drafts with huge potential but where the writers haven’t come close to maximizing that potential.

Think about it. Is your ending the refrigerator-in-a-nuclear-explosion ending? Or is it the Delorean racing 88 miles per hour while Doc swings from the clock tower lightning bolt ending? Sure it takes lots more drafts and lots more time to get the lightning bolt ending, but how the hell do you think you’re going to beat the competition with a subpar product?

I don’t think this draft of Back To The Future was bad. But it reads like a lot of early drafts do. Some fun ideas. Some decent characters. Some clumsy exposition. A start-and-stop story that’s still trying to find itself. But it didn’t feel FINISHED.

The lesson here is to look at what can happen when you rewrite. I heard stories about how these two, after getting rejected, wrote draft after draft after draft of this script, debating every single detail of the story until it got to where it needed to be. That takes dedication. And that’s what every screenwriter needs in order to succeed.

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

What I learned: Every time you get an idea, it’s just a seed. Your job is to water that seed and help it grow to as big as it possibly can. Too many writers are too impatient to do the watering. And their scripts always reflect that.

Last week we discussed box office surprises and how those movies’ screenplays factored into their success. The idea is that when something unexpected happens in this industry, we, as writers, should know why it happened, so we can then use that knowledge in our own writing. Well today, we’re going to do the opposite. We’re going to look at some box office duds and see if we can’t figure out why they dudded. Again, the more knowledge we have, the better equipped we are to find success.

As I noted last week, directing, marketing and star power are all going to play a big role in a movie’s success. But everything stems from the screenplay. When you’re talking about the reasons for a box office failure (from a screenwriting perspective), you’re talking about two things. You’re talking about the concept, that 3-5 second pitch you can convey on a poster or billboard, and you’re talking about the story, since most trailers are going to convey the gist of your story within their two-minute running time. All else being equal, if nobody shows up to your movie, you can probably blame one of those two things.

The Lone Ranger
Projected Box Office: 250-300 million
Actual Box Office: 90 million
There are tons of theories on why this movie bombed. Even Johnny Depp has one (the American press conspired to destroy it). Many of these theories are probably right, but I’ll tell you something I noticed that not a lot of people talked about. When you watched The Lone Ranger trailer, you saw absolutely nothing new. Train chases, seen’em. Cowboys, seen’em. Indians, seen’em. Shootouts, seen’em. There wasn’t a single thing in that trailer that I hadn’t seen before. And if you’re writing a summer blockbuster script, and you aren’t giving us something we haven’t seen before, you may as well throw in the white flag, because audiences aren’t going to show up. The summer season is the “Thrill Season” for the movie business, and you gotta knock us out if you expect to compete. I mean look at the movie that came out last weekend, Gravity. That’s the perfect example of something new and different and fresh we HAVEN’T seen before, which is why so many people showed up for it.

R.I.P.D.
Projected Box Office: 130-150 million
Actual Box Office: 33 million
I actually thought this script was pretty good. Not great. But fun. However, the exact issue I spotted during that first read was exactly what doomed it. R.I.P.D. felt too similar to another film franchise – Men In Black. This is one of the trickiest games you play as a writer because you’re told to write something similar enough to other films that studios can envision it, but fresh enough that audiences won’t see it as old hat. R.I.P.D., in its trailer, felt too similar to a huge franchise and the reason that’s a killer is because even if you do a really good job of copying that franchise (or film), you’ll still be seen as the “lower quality” version of it. Now you can sometimes circumvent this issue if there’s been enough time between the film you’re copying and the one you’re releasing, but Men In Black 3 had just come out a year earlier, so people were bound to see this as Copycat Nation. Always have something different about your screenplay. If it’s too similar to something else we’ve seen, we’re on to the next script.

After Earth
Projected Box Office: 140-160 million
Actual Box Office: 60 million
I think the main reason this movie didn’t do well was the casting. There’s something about Will Smith doing a movie with his teenage son that gets people  riled up. A father who can hand you the starring role in a giant effects-driven action movie reeks of the worst form of entitlement, right? In this country, we like to see people earn it. And while I know Jayden Smith did well with Karate Kid, I think America’s still waiting for him to prove himself before he’s ready for major action parts. With that said, this script didn’t open THAT terribly. It made 27 million dollars on its opening weekend. So if it really impressed its audiences, it could’ve made 75, maybe even 90 million dollars from word-of-mouth. So why didn’t it? Well, I noticed something about this film in retrospect that I now believe is killing all of M. Night’s  films. They’re all so MONOTONE. Every character is one-note. They’re either sad, angry, or a combination of the two. The obsession with this downbeat tone results in audiences leaving the theater… down. And if moviegoers are leaving a movie down, do you think they’re running off to their friends to tell them to see the movie? Of course not. This when you had two of the more charismatic actors in the world!

Man On A Ledge
Projected Box Office: 65-75 million
Actual Box Office: 18.6 million
It’s too bad this movie bombed because I heard the original writer is a really nice guy and his script got shredded into something that barely resembled his original idea. Having said that, Man On A Ledge’s failure can be attributed to a mistake I see often in the amateur community – a confusing premise. A good premise is clear and strong and obvious to the audience as soon as they see it. A bad premise takes a lot of extra explaining, and often still leaves unanswered questions. I read Man On A Ledge AND watched the trailer and I’m still not a hundred percent on what’s going on. A guy is pretending that he’s going to jump off a building so that his friends can secretly rob the bank across the street? I mean that sorta makes sense, but with all the ways you can rob a bank, is a fake ledge-jumping decoy really the most logical option? If I don’t understand the concept, I’m not going to see the movie. So that’s one of those things where there’s no wiggle room on. This is why you wanna run your concepts by your no-bullshit crew (people who are honest with you and tell you when your stuff sucks). If they’re confused or not impressed, move on to the next idea.

Runner Runner
Projected Box Office: 60-70 million
Actual Box Office (as of October 9, 2013): 9 million
Runner Runner is what I refer to as a middle-of-the-road script. It’s a decent read, it keeps things interesting enough that you turn the pages, but it doesn’t do an inch more. In other words, it’s generic. And to me, generic is the worst crime you can commit as a writer, because it’s the opposite of everything a writer should be: committed, hard-working, always challenging himself, never satisfied. These qualities ensure you’ll keep writing until you’ve got that fresh new concept, that fresh new scene, or that unique character that nobody’s seen before. A driven writer knows when a section of his script is average or derivative and keeps working on it until it pops. Runner Runner is the opposite of that and audiences don’t need an entire movie to see that. They can pick that up by watching the trailer. So when Runner Runner’s trailer displayed 2 minutes of generic characters, lines, and imagery, of course we’re not going to show up and pay ten bucks for it.

Cloud Atlas
Projected Box Office: 80-100 million
Actual Box Office: 27 million
When agents or producers tell you that your 180 page epic sci-fi script doesn’t have a market, and therefore, there’s no point in sending it out, this is what they mean. There may be 2 or 3 directors who could’ve done a better job than the Wachowski Siblings with Cloud Atlas, and it wouldn’t have mattered. It still would’ve made 25-40 million. That’s because serious takes on esoteric science-fiction fare don’t make money. We’ve seen it with movies like The Fountain. We’ve seen it with movies like Solaris (2002). Even Blade Runner didn’t do that well. If you want to survive in sci-fi, you have to go more mainstream. Robots trying to assassinate people. Guys waking up every 8 minutes in a train after it keeps blowing up. Giant Robots battling monsters. And the thing is, you can still explore some dark themes in those scripts. You’re just not being pretentious about it or over-complicating the narrative. It should be noted, though, that you can make your pretentious esoteric sci-fi flicks if they cost very little (like Primer). There IS an audience out there for these films. It’s just not very big.

There’s an old saying in Hollywood that no one sets out to make a bad movie. And, for the most part, I believe that. It’s in everyone’s best interest to make a good movie because it ensures they’ll keep getting work. BUT, I still think there are a lot of lazy people in Hollywood who aren’t trying as hard as they think they are. Being honest with yourselves when something isn’t working and figuring out a solution (particularly at the script stage) can be the difference between a good and a bad movie, or in some cases, stopping a movie that’s going to lose everyone money.

Genre: TV show/Sci-fi
Premise: (from IMDB) In a not-so-distant future, human cops and androids partner up to protect and serve.
About: This is one of the hot new shows coming out of JJ Abrams’ company, Bad Robot. It will be premiering on Fox in, I believe, November. The writer, J.H. Wyman, is a producer, writer, director, and actor, although he’s most recently been the showrunner on the cult hit, Fringe. It seems logical, then, that he’d come back to Fox with his next project.
Writer: J. H. Wyman
Details: 65 pages

Another Bad Robot (JJ Abrams) project? I’m in! I have made no secret of the fact that I am in love with this man and his career to an unhealthy degree. I love that he’s thinking outside the box on everything he does, going so far as to publish a book that isn’t even about the book, but the back and forth notes two friends leave each other in the margins while swapping the book. He’s found a way to break the fourth wall in books! Is there anything this guy can’t do?! (maybe get that book to work in e-book form?)

But, if we’re being honest, the one JJ show I didn’t get was Fringe. You know that moment that happens when you’re watching a show where you realize you’re done with it? It happens and you’re like, “Okay, never going to watch this again.” With Fringe, it was the first episode. The whole thing with the plane with all the dead people in some decaying weird liquidy state? I didn’t get it. And they didn’t do a good job explaining why it happened either. If you’re going to have a show about weird things and the explanation of those weird things, haven’t you failed if you don’t successfully explain the weird thing that happened on the very first show?

And you know, JJ hasn’t lit the TV world on fire since Lost. Undercovers and Alcatraz weren’t very good. I guess Person of Interest and Revolution have their audiences, but I haven’t connected with either. I mean, sure, I’m like anyone. I want the next Lost, despite Losts not coming around very often. But I’ll settle for a show that I genuinely want to tune into every week. Let’s see if Almost Human is that show…

30-something John Kennex is a Los Angeles cop in the year 2043. From the little description of the city we get, it’s basically a lot like Blade Runner’s LA. Speaking of Blade Runner, the cop world has been turned on its head as now we have robots in the police force. These robots may look like normal people, but they’re all nuts and bolts inside. Not surprisingly, John HATES robot cops and refuses to work with them. They’re, like, replacing all his friends in the force!

John’s big obsession at the moment is something called the Insyndicate, a crime organization that’s selling lots of drugs in the city. His investigation into them is going great until his pregnant wife is kidnapped and killed! The Insyndicate specifically offed her to send a message to John. Stop coming after us. But here’s the kicker. After the murder, the Insyndicate disappears. Like, wiped off the face of the earth. Huh?

Cut to a few years later and, despite the whole wife-murder thing, John is still coming to work every day to protect and serve. After doing a routine stop, John finds some guy tripping out on a new drug that alters people’s DNA. You literally start changing into other people. The trippy drug looks like a big problem so the LAPD starts looking into it.

In the meantime, John can no longer operate without a partner, so he teams up with one of the bots. But here’s the catch. He wants one of the earliest models since he believes they might have recorded police info on his wife’s murder. The problem is these early models have glitches, big mood stabilizing issues. They’re unpredictable and aren’t even supposed to be on the street anymore. But John says that’s the only bot he’s working with.

Enter Dorian, a sad-looking male robot (why he has a girl’s name, I don’t know). Dorian was about to be sent to LAX for manual labor the rest of his life. He’s thankful that John gave him another shot. The thing with Dorian is, he seems quite life-like. Whereas the newest generation of robots are very… robotic, Dorian was created during a time where the robots were meant to be more like people. For this reason, John starts to like him. But it all comes down to, will he be able to do the job? And, more importantly, will he be able to help John find the people who killed his wife?

Writing a TV show that gets on the air is not that different from selling a spec screenplay. You have to find an idea that’s already been done and add a little twist to it. But in television, it’s a little simpler because television is dominated by cop, hospital, and lawyer shows. So you merely find something from one of these “genres” that hasn’t been done before. You find a new spin. Almost Human finds that spin. A cop show (which TV eats up) with robot cops in the mix. Easy to see why this was picked up.

Where you take it from there is tricky though. The landscape of TV is changing rapidly. Edgier and edgier shows are finding their way onto the small screen due to all these cable channels looking for original material. However, the Big 4 networks are still playing everything safe. So you have to make a decision when you write: Do you want to write something for the networks or for cable? Because what will benefit you on one will alienate you to another.

What I mean is, Almost Human is very generic beyond the original premise. Much like The Blacklist, it’s laced with strands of “safe” everywhere you turn. I mean here you have two shows where, if they were in the real world, things would get really gnarly. But in the hands of NBC and FOX, you know everything’s going to be okay in the end. And since there’s never really a sense of danger, a sense of chances being taken, the show never grabs you.

I mean look at Breaking Bad. You have a high school teacher with a normal family making meth and eventually becoming a drug lord. That’s a world where, when I sit down every week, I have no idea what’s going to happen, because that choice isn’t something you see on TV often. My point being, when you sit down to write your pilot, you have to decide if it’s going to be a safe network kind of a show or a show that pushes the boundaries.

Having said that, I think Almost Human could’ve still pushed the envelope more. There’s something goofy about the name “The Insyndicate,” but more importantly, I wasn’t really scared of them. The DNA drug stuff they were selling was kind of cool, but they were just your garden variety TV bad guys. I mean did you meet Tuco on Breaking Bad? That guy was the scariest dude I’ve ever seen on TV. They took a chance by creating that psycho. The Insyndicate guys feel like the gun-wielding extras you see getting shredded in the background of your favorite crime flick.

BUT, the show still does a lot right. We have a highly motivated main character, John. One of the EASIEST ways to create sympathy for a hero is to kill off one of their loved ones. So we immediately like this guy and understand why he’s so driven to take down the bad guys.

I also LOVED that John picks out a first generation robot that was discontinued. Whenever you read anything, you want to feel like the writer’s created a deep world. The fact that we’re already three-generations deep into these robot cops and that the first ones were discontinued because of mood problems – that tells me J. H. has really thought through this world. It also makes Dorian a lot more interesting because we’re sitting there going, “Okay, when is this guy going to lose it?” Had J. H. gone with a straight-forward robot who talked in a monotone voice and did everything exactly by the book, that would’ve been predictable and boring.

Whether Almost Human becomes a one-time watch or an essential part of my TV viewing schedule will be determined by the chances it takes (or doesn’t take). The first episode is played too safe. I mean who didn’t see it coming (spoiler) that the wife was still alive? The reason I watched Lost was because something big would happen on every episode that I didn’t expect. I don’t know if Almost Human is set up that way. But it’s going to need to be if it’s got a shot at surviving. Even Flyover Country can spot a generic show that doesn’t push the envelope or try anything new.

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

What I learned: The mythology of a TV show must be MUCH DEEPER than that of a film because you’re creating a 100-hour story as opposed to a 2 hour one. So I’d recommend sitting down and writing at least 30 (single-spaced) pages about your world and how it came to be, even if it’s not sci-fi or fantasy. Because we’ll be able to tell if you haven’t done any work on your world. Everything will feel thin and “made-up-on-the-spot” to the reader. The three generations of robot cops, the problems with the first generation, all that stuff in Almost Human told me that J. H. had done his homework and really understood this world. I suggest you do the same.

Genre: Drama
Premise: When an escaped convict infiltrates the home of a single mother and her son, the mother unexpectedly falls in love with the man.
About: This is Jason Reitman’s next movie, which will star Kate Winslet, Toby Maguire and comeback kid James Van Der Beek!  It’s slated for an early 2014 release. Reitman’s outshone his legendary director father (Ivan Reitman) as of late, directing well-received films like Juno and Up In The Air. But he better watch out. Ivan is about to make a comeback, getting ramped up to direct the mega-hot script Draft Day, starring Kevin Costner as a general manager during the most important day of the year for NFL teams, draft day.
Writer: Jason Reitman (based on the novel by Joyce Maynard)
Details – 125 pages (2/4/11 draft)

Jason Reitman is an interesting writer/filmmaker. He’s not making films like anyone else out there. Here’s the issue I have with Reitman though. I’m not sure who HE is. I know every director out there wants to be Ang Lee or Steven Spielberg, the kind of director who can jump in and out of genres effortlessly, but what’s the reason we go to see a filmmaker’s film? Because we know what kind of movie they make. Thank You For Smoking. Juno. Up In The Air. Young Adult. Where’s the common thread in those? I’m not sure I can find one.

It’s not to say someone can’t break the mold and make whatever movie they want, but it’s a hell of a lot of harder to gain traction as a filmmaker if that’s the route you’ve chosen. I think early in your career you need to pick one genre and stick with it, THEN break out. Right now, the thing Reitman is probably best known for is being the director of a couple of Diablo Cody scripts, and I’m sure that isn’t what he’d like to be known for.

To make matters worse, the only consistent element he’s got going in his films (they’re 30-60 million dollar dramas that sometimes contain comedic elements) is the exact kind of film Hollywood is trying not to make anymore. There’s no real hook to draw audiences in other than the acting, directing and writing, and it’s hard to get those things right. And these films don’t have much of an upside even if they DO do well. With Young Adult never really breaking out, this is a huge moment for Reitman. He’s gotta prove that there is an audience for these movies. And that’s going to be tough. Cause if Labor Day isn’t executed perfectly, it’s in a lot of trouble.

Labor Day tells the story of Henry…. Wait a minute. That’s not actually true. It tells the story of Adele… Actually, that’s not true. It tells the story of Henry, who’s TELLING A STORY about Adele. Yeah, so let me start over. It’s 1987. Henry is a 13 year old kid living in a small town with a single mother who’s still bitter about her divorce. She’s given up on love, and in the process, given up on life. The only thing she’s got going for her is Henry.

That changes when the two go shopping one day and are approached by Frank, who seems like a good guy with the exception of a few suspicious cuts on his body. Now you and I would probably walk away from this. But Adele, for whatever reason, decides to take Frank home with her, a man whom she later finds out is an escaped convict.

All of this is being recalled via voice over from Adult Henry, who’s basically remembering the crazy 4 day Labor Day weekend that occurred when his mother fell in love with a convict. Yup, poor Henry gets his sex education via the shaking and moaning and screaming that occurs in the bedroom next to his. It’s something he isn’t really sure how to handle. He thinks it’s strange that they have, you know, an escaped convict not only living with them. But having sex with his mom! Most people would consider that weird.

Eventually, Henry befriends a new girl in town, Eleanor, who puts two and two together and realizes Henry’s housing the fugitive. She eventually convinces him that he’s going to be cut out of the picture and abandoned if he doesn’t do something. When his mom mentions moving to Canada to start a new life, that seems to confirm the prediction, and Henry begins to wonder if he should turn Frank in. It all comes to a head when the race to get out of town is interrupted by the cops finding out where Frank is, and trying to stop him before he gets away.

The other day I was saying (like I always do) to stay away from the drama genre. Hollywood doesn’t like to make dramas. They not only have really low profit margins, but they have to be executed perfectly to work. The script has to be flawless, the acting has to be genius, the directing and the cinematography have to be awe-inspiring. They don’t have any margin for error because people only come to see these movies if they hear they’re great.  Honestly, when’s the last time you said to a friend, “Let’s go see that drama movie that’s supposed to be okay!”

Every story needs an engine. And like I often discuss, the engine is often your hero’s goal (beat the terrorists, get to the beauty pageant, get the Americans out of Iran using a fake movie as cover). Even Flight, a drama I loathe, had a goal – to win the court case against the airline for pilot neglect. Labor Day bases its engine on something a lot harder to drive an entire story with – suspense. Suspense is something you typically use in doses, to drive a scene or a sequence. Using it to drive an entire movie is hard.

The suspense engine here is: “Will Frank, Adele, and Henry get away with this?” This is achieved by making us wonder whether Frank and Adele and Henry are going to ride off into the sunset and start a new life, or get caught.  As far as I can tell, that’s the only thing driving the story.

That’s fine. A really well-told story CAN work this way. Here’s my problem though. For suspense to work, especially suspense that’s supposed to last the entirety of the movie, we have to freaking love the characters. And that’s where I had problems. The script is told through the eyes of Henry (in older Henry’s voice over). For that reason, we’re not watching the movie through the eyes of the two people who have the most to gain and lose here (Frank and Adele) but rather the character with the least to lose, Henry.

In addition to that, because we’re seeing two people fall in love through a third party, I never really felt those characters’ feelings. I never got close enough to them since I wasn’t allowed to see them unless it was through Henry’s perspective. It was kind of like watching two people kiss across the street instead of BEING one of the people kissing across the street.

Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t dislike any of these characters. I thought Henry was pretty interesting, Frank was pretty interesting, and Adele was pretty interesting. But “pretty interesting” doesn’t cut it when you’re making a drama. It’s not like The Avengers where a “pretty interesting” character is fine because you have 200 million dollars worth of special effects to fall back on. In dramas, THE CHARACTERS are the special effects. And for that reason they must be infinitely interesting, infinitely fascinating, infinitely compelling. After finishing Labor Day, I was just kind of like, “Ehh, not bad.” It was a nice little story. But that’s not enough for a drama. A drama has to be great.

Where could the script have improved? I think Eleanor should have had a much bigger part. She’s the love interest for the character we care most about, the one we’re closest to, Henry. Why do we get more time between two people we don’t really know than the actual person who’s leading us through this story?

If that could’ve been introduced earlier, and Eleanor could’ve found out about Frank earlier (in this draft, she doesn’t find out until the end), she could’ve pressed Henry to give Frank up sooner, lest he lose his mom to him, and there would’ve been a lot more conflict in the house, which as it stood was pretty conflict-free.

That was probably the biggest issue for me in the script. Frank’s situation was never really challenged. Outside of a couple of late characters dropping by, Frank could prance around worry free. And I’m not sure a movie like this works unless his situation is always in danger, unless we’re constantly feeling the possibility that he could be caught.

All in all, this draft of Labor Day had a slow story that lacked the kind of characters and conflict a drama like this needs. Hopefully, Reitman has sped the story up and addressed these issues in subsequent drafts. I admire the man for pushing stories in Hollywood that don’t usually get made, but the catch is those stories have to be awesome, and I don’t think this one’s there yet.

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

What I learned: Link up your story elements! I discussed this yesterday. Try and link up the elements of your story so they work together as opposed to separately. I thought Labor Day missed an easy one here. Henry was falling for Eleanor, who confesses sadly that she can no longer go to art school because her parents won’t pay for it (element 1). Later, Henry sees a “REWARD – $10,000” flyer for turning in Frank (element 2). Henry should be considering turning in Frank to get Eleanor the money so she can go to art school. That’s his main conflict. That’s what he’s battling every time he comes home. Should he call the police and run off with his own girl, or not call them and let Frank and Adele run off together?