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Okay, so I have about four days left here in LA and the apartment search is not going well.  I’ve been to  $2500 apartments that are wedged up against the 10 freeway and have little children with six fingers on each hand running around outside of them.  What this unfortunately means is I haven’t had time to write a Thursday article.  I’m going to try to later today, but no guarantees.

In the meantime, I need my Scriptshadow network to help me out.  Find me a place!  I’d preferably like to live in Venice.  If not, Santa Monica.  If not there, Culver City, maybe West Hollywood, maybe the nice areas of Hollywood, or anywhere on the West Side.  No Valley!  I want a big cool apartment and I’m willing to pay up to $2500/mo.  If someone on this site finds me a place, I will read their script as well as give them a detailed consult, which isn’t cheap!  I’ll also get on the phone with them and answer any questions they have.  If you find something, email me at carsonreeves1@gmail.com. Please, help me out!!!  Thank you!!!

Carson here.  I’m taking the day off but Roger’s here to pick up the slack, reviewing one of last year’s Nicholl finalists.  Just to give you an update, I’ve been reading 2 Twit-Pitches every night and tweeting about them live on my Twitter account. Writers complain that contests are too closed off and they never know why their script was passed over or not.  Well this is about as open as it gets!  I give you REAL TIME reasons for why I like or dislike a script.  Of course, it’s pretty late at night but still, you can always go back into my feed history if you missed it. Okay, now to Roger.  Take it away, Rog!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: A by-the-book FBI profiler must track down a serial killer with the help of an illiterate 24-year old psychic.
About: This was a 2011 Nicholl winner.
Writer: Matthew Murphy
Details: Nicholl Draft, 101 pages
You know, I generally stay away from scripts that have “serial killer” in the logline. Sure, last week I reviewed Gaslight, which was about Jack the Ripper (kind of), but that had enough fresh ingredients in the logline to keep the word “cliché” from popping into my thought space. 
So, why did you choose to read the lone serial killer Nicholl finalist script, “Unicorn”, Rog?
Because, it is a fucking serial killer script that uses the word “Unicorn” for a title. Unicorn! So many questions ran through my brain. Why is it titled Unicorn? Are there Unicorns in this script? Is the killer a Unicorn, or does the killer just have a horn? Or wait, is it the psychic who has a horn? How do Unicorns factor into this story? Why isn’t it titled something else? 
More questions flooded my cranium. People still write serial killer scripts? Why not? People still tell vampire and zombie yarns. How do you keep a serial killer tale fresh after seeing stuff like Se7en, Zodiac, The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo and everything else in David Fincher’s misogynist film cycle? After growing up on Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling and all the second-rate imitations, how do you keep from creating an imitation yourself?
When I can watch Medium, Fringe, The X-Files, or any other tv show that uses psychics to solve crimes, why should I read yet another script that treads through the same territory? The answer is, I wasn’t going to. These stories hit a saturation point in my interest meter, so I set Unicorn aside. 
And I actually went about my day, thinking I was gonna read something else. And why shouldn’t I? After all, Eastern Promises 2 was staring at me from my shiny iPad screen. Would there be any more naked Viggo Mortensen fights to look forward to and HEY ROGER, THERE’S A SERIAL KILLER SCRIPT ON YOU COMPUTER THAT WON THE NICHOLL FELLOWSHIP AND IT’S CALLED UNICORN! 
So, I broke my anger management chip in half and opened the goddamn script to quell my curious gray matter. 
Indeed, why is titled Unicorn?
It’s the first name of the psychic character, Skye Huffman. Unicorn Skye Huffman. Or, if you’re her mother Penny, you call her “Yuyu” for short. Before you ask, yes, this is all chalked up to hipster Penny spawning a killer-catching Manic Pixie Dream Gal.
But, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Unicorn starts out with your typical Henry-Portrait-of-a-Serial-Killer murder slash rape scenario. A creepy man rapes a duct-taped girl in her apartment, while the body of her fiancé lies freshly slaughtered on the kitchen floor. He seems to time the kill with his orgasm, because he pulls out a scary hunting knife that’s strapped to his leg and uses it to deliver the coup de grace.
Or, so it appears. Because right before the death blow we cut to a pair of green eyes opening in the darkness that seem to be tuned into the victim’s ordeal. 
And that’s the teaser section of this thriller, a bit of nasty business that sets up our mysterious serial killer and our even more mysterious psychic. You know what a teaser is, right? A two to three page sequence that whets the audience’s appetite for more bloodshed to come and more importantly, mysteries to solve. An audience loves a good mystery to solve, and these teasers are important in thriller and horror scripts.
These scenes ground the story in its genre. It makes promises to the audience. The promise of more kills and grisly encounters, and the promise of revealing and hopefully catching the killer. These ingredients are the blood, bones and butter of this particular genre. They let the audience know what kind of ride they’re in for. 
So, who are the other characters?
We meet the broom-up-his-ass Agent Thomas Buck while he’s briefing the Baltimore police department about his theory that there’s a serial killer in operation, targeting couples. The only problem is, there are no bodies. But, since all of the missing women have dark hair and are in their 20s, Buck believes it’s the work of one killer. The disappearances are getting closer and closer together, so it’s time sensitive they catch this guy before there are any more victims.
The scene gets even more intriguing as the green Agent Buck (he’s still in his 20s) gets nervous during his briefing when Detective Roy Weitzman enters the room. He stammers a bit as Weitzman takes a seat in his wrinkled clothes, looking like he should be at an AA Meeting rather than a police station. 
There’s an interesting writer’s rule that says, “If your character cries, your reader won’t.” Now, I don’t remember who first said this, but I know Orson Scott Card teaches it when it comes to fiction. I’m not sure how applicable this is to a cinematic medium, but there is something about seeing a character not cry when they have reason to. It makes the reader express emotion for the character. 
Why am I mentioning this? The focal character in this scene is Buck, so when he gets nervous and shows interest in Weitzman, we’re immediately interested in him, too. This is an example of why point-of-view is important. Every scene should be shown through a character’s particular perspective. Even Christopher Nolan says, “Stylistically, something that runs through my films is the shot that walks into a room behind a character, because to me, that takes me inside the way that the character enters. I think those point-of-view issues are very important.”
Who is this Weitzman cat, and why does he make an FBI Agent like Buck so antsy?
Weitzman just got back from a book tour and the New York Times even compared him to Sherlock Holmes. Turns out he’s caught quite a few killers and the FBI is so turned on by his crime-solvin’ magic that they’ve sent Buck to observe and take note of his methods. Buck worshipped the guy’s work as he was going through the academy, so he’s struck with the idol-worshipping bug. Also turns out that Weitzman’s boss, Captain O’Neill, is friends with Buck’s family, so he’s perhaps a harmless candidate for the gig. 
Of course, we learn all this through exposition when O’Neill takes Weitzman in his office to discuss the investigation. But, you know, exposition is always welcome when we want to know the information and it’s not clumsily handled. Because of how Weitzman is set-up, we want to learn more about him. And, the scene is kind of nice because we sense a real history between the detective and his Captain. 
But, the first act would be boring if there wasn’t any tension between Weitzman and Buck. You guessed it, Weitzman doesn’t want to be saddled with the naïve young gun. Not only because he’s used to working solo, but it also seems that Weitzman has a secret to hide concerning his methods. 
O’Neill convinces the detective to take the agent along, because he’s someone who is smart and loyal and can keep his mouth shut. He gives us a nugget of intrigue as well by saying, “We’re getting old, Roy. Someone else needs to know.”
What is Weitzman hiding?
After the obligatory “Let’s Get One Thing Straight” Scene, where Weitzman tells Buck how it’s gonna be if they’re gonna work together, the detective dangles an enticing carrot in front of the young FBI agent. Not only does Buck need to get autopsy reports and the like, he is also saddled with an odd grocery list: plastic-wrapped art supplies, one bottle of Johnnie Walker, a book of Georgia O’Keefe paintings and a bag of M&Ms.
Now, most FBI agents probably wouldn’t take these kind of demands from a police detective, but an encounter with one of the victim’s parents motivates Buck to play nice. He buys everything on the list and the next day Weitzman takes him to an odd farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere that is surrounded by weird metal sculptures and other odd accoutrement. 
Weitzman gives him three rules before they enter: One, Don’t touch anything. Two, Don’t move around. 
Three, he must tell no one what he is about to see.
Inside, they find the fading beauty, Penny, who aims to get drunk with Johnnie Walker. There are also canvasses everywhere of painted figures. 
All with no faces.
Penny calls her daughter downstairs. Skye, or Yuyu, looks like a Renaissance Madonna. She wears paint-stained dungarees and neoprene gloves protect her hands. Buck is instantly smitten. 
What’s the psychic’s story?
She doesn’t read because she’s dyslexic. She doesn’t speak because she has aphasia. All human faces look blank to her (she can’t tell one face from another) because she has prosopagnosia. 
Give her an evidence bag (conveniently stolen from the evidence lockers by Weitzman), take off her gloves and let her make contact with the psychic memories these objects carry. She’s like an antenna, locking onto the killer after touching some strands of hair. 
Since she doesn’t speak or write, she draws what she sees on a sketchpad. We learn this system is pretty damn accurate, as Weitzman has caught a slew of killers by using his psychic bloodhound, Yuyu. 
But, what about the book he wrote, you ask? How did he portray his techniques and use of informants? Well, he tells an angry Buck he cribbed from Hitchock films and CSI. 
At this point, Buck is so angry that he wants to leave his assignment, but he’s haunted by the victims and the picture of the killer that Yuyu sketched. He stays on the hunt and carries us into Act Two. 
What’s the rest of the script like, Rog?
This was an odd bird. I breezed through this thing because the writing was clean and vivid and I really wanted to know how the sucker would end. Hell, in stories like this, where the Narrative Question is: Will our guys catch the killer?, I will keep reading until that question is answered. If it’s a pleasant read, that is. 
And Unicorn is a pleasant read.
There’s a B Story where we follow the killer through his routine, and that helps flesh out the script but I think the story and characters need to be beefed up. Right now, a lot of Act Two is about waiting for the killer to make his next move. In turn, our protagonists are waiting for Yuyu to gather clues through her sensory and psychic connections. There’s a lot of waiting. They become a bit passive. Which gives time for Buck to have a romance with Yuyu, but it’s bogged down by too much stuff I’ve seen before. 
This created a bump in the read for me as I wanted more tension and emotional weight that wasn’t coupled with locked-room protagonists (not entirely passive, they’re just caged) and a predictable plot. Unicorn works as a by-the-numbers thriller and procedural, but it needs a cohesive theme. It needs more heart.
However, there’s a cool twist at the end of Act Two that creates a very tense scene that puts one of our heroes in a very vulnerable position, and it may be the best scene in the whole script. Although, the mechanics of how the Twist work here don’t seem to follow the psychic rules set-up by the writer. I do think this is an easy fix, though, and it has to do with touch and giving this particular character an object to help them “hone in”. 
For some reason, Unicorn reminded me of one of my favorite scripts, Sunflower. That’s another thriller, but it has some dazzling psychological pyrokinetics between the characters that I loved, and I think Unicorn could benefit by having more mind-games. The chess pieces are all here for something cool, I just think they should be moved around a bit more to not only beef up the characters, but to make the script itself edgier and not as predictable. 
[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Two things. Point of View and Putting Your Character Through the Ringer. The rule of thumb for creating drama and tension in a scene is by telling it through the character who has the most to lose in the scene. After I read Unicorn, I kept thinking how cool it would be if this was a story told from the psychic’s perspective. She’s mute. She can’t distinguish between faces. Yet she gets startling visions. That seems like such an interesting character to tell a story though, and I think it would make the execution unique. Jennifer 8 did it. Yuyu is such a vulnerable character, and any scene in which she is endangered would be tense as hell. Speaking of tension, it’s hard for an audience to pull away from a scene when the protagonist is being endangered with no easy ways out. If story can be defined as how a character deals with danger, then it would make sense to put them through the ringer to such an extent where they can’t escape without a few bruises and scars. Audiences love to see a protagonist get hit, physically or emotionally, so don’t be afraid to beat them up. Stories where characters get everything handed to them on a silver platter are boring. Make them earn it.

This is a very exciting moment for me because I’m interviewing my first OSCAR WINNER. Simon Beaufoy wrote 2008’s Academy Award winning Slumdog Millionaire. He also wrote The Full Monty and 127 Hours. But the reason I wanted to interview Simon was because of his new film, “Salmon Fishing In The Yemen,” which is a script I read a long time ago and loved! It’s one of those movies all screenwriters should seek out because it’s just really well written. – My relationship with Simon is funny. I think he both loves me and hates me. Loves me for my review of “Salmon Fishing” and hates me for my review of “127 Hours.” But even after that unflattering review, he still agreed to an interview! I love me some Simon Beaufoy!

SS: Simon, thank you for stopping by our community here on Scriptshadow. Now I chatted with you once a long time back and you mentioned you’d visited the site. Have you since recovered from this visit? Don’t tell me you actually came back in the meantime.

SB: I remember there was an outbreak of brickbats (what ARE brickbats, really?) on your site round the time 127 Hours was about to be released. I love the passion of the contributors to the site even if I am sometimes dumbfounded by the certainty of opinion of people who haven’t even seen a film or read the script, but still feel they have a valid point of view….A forum for screenwriters can only be a dangerous thing for a species who live in the dark and eat only bananas and chocolate. But dangerous is usually good.

SS: Let’s jump right into your newest film, Salmon Fishing. As you already know, I loved this script. So let me ask you this. Was it a difficult script to write? And if so, what was the most difficult thing about it?

SB: Thanks for loving the script. You’re a generous soul. People assume that because the entire novel was made up of emails, interviews, diary entries and news reports (an epistolary novel) that finding a structure was the most difficult part of adapting it. But actually, the most difficult part of this particular adaptation was cracking the problem that this was essentially a love triangle with one of the three people in the triangle absent. Film doesn’t like absence much- whereas in novels, that’s fine. I had to do some radical things to the original novel to address this complication.

SS: When you sat down to write it – or really when you sit down to write any script – what is the single most important thing that you need to get right? What story element gets all of your focus and why?

SB: The single most difficult element to get right when I sit down to write is the strength of the coffee. Everything else is secondary. I rarely get it right and it puzzles me endlessly. Same coffee, same amount of water, different taste each day. Why? It definitely tastes better in a white cup, but still, something is going on that I can’t get to the bottom of.

Tone is most hard to keep uniform throughout a script. Especially when adapting a novel. The tone is one of the few things I promise to keep the same as the original material- character being the other, though the two tend to be interwoven anyway. Everything else is up for grabs, usually. There’s no intrinsic merit in a ‘faithful adaptation’ as far as I can see. The very reasons why a novel might be incredibly successful as a novel are often the very opposite of what might make it a good film. There’s no intrinsic merit in a ‘faithful adaptation’ as far as I can see. There is merit in turning a wonderful idea with wonderful characters into a wonderful film.

SS: Let me ask you this because it’s a problem I’ve personally dealt with and I know other screenwriters who love these kinds of movies deal with. When you write something like Raiders or Pirates, movies with big concepts where the characters are always on the move trying to achieve things, it’s fairly easy to keep the story moving (as the concept practically moves it along for you). But it’s different when you write a character piece with a lot more talking and a lot more character development. What’s the key, in your opinion, to making these movies move along quickly? How do you prevent them from becoming slow and boring?

SB: I’ve never written one of those huge movies, so I’m not even sure I understand the problem you are suggesting. I am self-taught, mostly by the Landmine School of Education. I’ve never read a How To book on screenwriting. I work instinctively, from the first principle of my process (and life) that plot comes from character, not the other way round. So interesting people do interesting things. If the story is boring, you’re at the wrong party. Sometimes I’ve found my narrative slowing up and I usually find the answer is that the main character has become passive, has stopped doing and is being done to. With some notable exceptions (can’t actually think of any right now….help!) passive main characters don’t work in films. It’s like driving with the parking brake on.

SS: For me, the thing that always sticks out the most in your movies are your characters. Can you give us your process for character-building? What is the key to writing a great character in your opinion? 

SB: Authenticity. Is the story of a man spending his life tracking down a beautiful woman in a city of twenty million indians- via a gameshow- true? No. Do you believe it? Weirdly, yes. That’s authenticity.

SS: Now it’s been over a year since I read the script, but if I remember correctly, Fred, the main character, is a rather prickly sort. When you write characters that are in danger of coming off as unsympathetic to the audience, are you conscious of that? And if so, what do you do to endear them to the audience more so that they root for them? 

SB: Fred is not at all likeable for a good deal of the script. That’s the point, really. But we see the possibility of a kind, funny person trapped inside a dull shell, too scared to be the person he could be. And we want him to succeed. Many years ago, Alfred Uhry read a treatment of mine for another film and had only one question: “do we like him?” I answered with all sorts of clever stuff about how he was a complicated, layered person at a crossroads in his life, blah blah and he just repeated the question: “do we like him?” It took a long time to really understand the simple and perfect beauty of that question. It really is that simple and that complicated. Do we like Fred? He’s spectrum autistic, rude, humourless, apparently passionless. But in a moment of weakness (as far as he’s concerned) he reveals his care and love for Harriet by making her a duck sandwich. And in that moment, ridiculously, we like him. After that, anything’s possible.

SS: Another thing I’ve noticed about your work is that your movies tend to have strong themes. Since theme is such an elusive term in the craft of screenwriting (it seems like everyone I talk to has a different take on it), could you give us your personal definition of it and how you use it to craft your stories?

SB: Theme….what a strange question.

SS: I’m a very strange person.

SB: Of course the work has themes. Every film that is more than an anecdote has themes: it’s what underpins everything that aspires to being more than the newspaper that wraps up the takeaway fish and chips. How can you inspire, worry, uplift, depress, piss off people without themes? It is part of the architecture that keeps the building up.

SS: As long as I’m picking your brain about all these tough screenwriting issues, I’d be dumb not to bring up the Second Act Black Hole – This is, of course, the last 30 or so pages of the second act where most screenplays go to die. How do you tackle the Black Hole? What do you focus on to keep the script moving until you get to that 3rd act?

SB: Thanks for flagging up a previously unknown ailment. I’m sure I’ll forever after have Second Act Black Hole syndrome now. I’d no idea they existed. Until now. There are slow bits. I end up cutting them. Or actually, I usually amalgamate them into another scene. It’s a good game to see if you can squeeze two scenes into one. It usually works and usually makes the remaining scene much juicier.

SS: You’ve been in the business for almost 20 years now. Can you give us a couple of the most important lessons you’ve learned about screenwriting in that time? Your big “Ah-Ha!” moments?

SB: There’s only one that I really stick to now that I feel I’ve discovered it (the hard way). Your main character needs to be active, not passive, needs to be driving the story. Film is a kinetic medium- it’s not called the movies for nothing. Keep your central character moving, discovering, learning.

SS: You’ve obviously worked closely with Danny Boyle on a number of projects. What are some of the things you’ve learned from him that have made you a better writer? 

SB: I learned 9) from Danny. I’d suspected as much for a long time. But there’s no way you can have a passive character with Danny. He doesn’t understand the word. His film making embodies the potential of the camera to move around subjects, time, characteristics, places.

SS: What would you tell all the screenwriters out there who are trying to break in? What’s the one piece of advice you’d want them to know? 

SB: See 9. And add the need for authenticity. It’s only my opinion, but without authenticity, I switch off. I know I’m at a movie. I want to be IN the movie.

SS: Okay so you gotta tell me. What’s it like winning an Oscar and walking up on that stage? Was it the coolest thing ever? Can you please give me a play by play of what was going on in your head as it happened?!

SB: I can’t remember a thing about it. Only the bar backstage afterwards. Utterly silent and empty and stocked with everything in the world- as far as my blasted brain could process- including a barman who calmly said, “congratulations, sir, what can I get you?” I had a Martini and sat there entirely on my own for five minutes, thinking, “what the hell just happened?”

A former Nicholl-finalist is back in the saddle with a new horror screenplay which combines elements of Pitch Black and The Descent!

Genre: Horror
Premise: When they open up a well that hasn’t been looked at since dinosaurs were around, a group of locals find themselves fighting off a large group of prehistoric flying monsters.
About: Brian Logan finished in the Top 10 in the 2003 Nicholl finals. This is his latest script, which hasn’t yet sold. You can find out more about the Aussie at his website, “ThatActionGuy.com.” To learn more about co-writer David J. Sakmyster, head over to his website here
Writers: Brian M. Logan & David J. Sakmyster
Details: 99 pages (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time the film is released. This is not a definitive statement about the project, but rather an analysis of this unique draft as it pertains to the craft of screenwriting).

Pitch Black meets The Descent? Uhh, yeah, I’m in. Those are two damn good movies. But could this script live up to those lofty cult classics?

We start out in a full-blown desert town appropriately called “Desert Springs.” In this small town, water is in short supply, which means the local water plant is going to have to open up a new well. It just so happens that 37-year-old Jake Mitchell, a former Marine and our hero, works as a security guard at the plant and is dealing with some of the headaches that come along with opening up this fifth well.

To make matter worse, he’s tasked with showing around local TV personality Emma Flynn, a 30-year-old ambitious newscaster will who will do anything to get the story and nothing for you. Why she’s coming to this boring middle-of-nowhere town to do a story on a water plant is anyone’s guess, but we need ourselves a movie so come she does!

Jake and Emma are oil and water from the start and when a couple of kids start lighting firecrackers near the wells, she gets her camera rolling to check out what Jake does every night. When he gets there, he learns that one of the kids who ran away, the Mayor’s grandson, fell into the NEW FIFTH WELL. Uh oh. That can’t be good.

The kid seems fine at first but a local scientist finds a strange leaf attached to him that turns out to be over 250,000 years old. It appears that this well dates back quite a ways and since this is the first time it’s been opened up, there are some nice treats hidden inside, and this leaf is just the first of them.

Next thing you know, a pterodactyl’ish creature shoots out of the well and starts treating people like cheesecake (Peoplecake?). Pterodactyl 1 is quickly followed by Pterodactyls 2-50 and pretty soon these paleolythic party-crashers are munching and mangling their way to a human buffet. Jake and Emma must run around and save the few humans who are left, as well as figure out a way to destroy these disastrous dinos, all while struggling with their escalating feelings for one another!

You know I was talking to Tyler the other day, who’s been keeping me updated on all the meetings he’s been taking, and one of the things he says he keeps hearing about his script is that it isn’t just that the writing’s good, it’s that he wrote a *movie*.

I loved Origin Of A Species. I thought it was an awesome script. But would I touch it as a producer? Not unless I had Sam Mendes directing and Christian Bale starring. And that’s the thing you have to remember when you’re writing. Producers are looking for MOVE-IES. They’re looking for stuff that they can actually put up onscreen that will bring people to the theater. So if you write a movie like The Disciple Program or you write a movie like Desert Demons, you’re way up the ladder as far as getting Hollywood to notice you. To that end, I liked the script’s approach. It’s the kind of thing I could see a producer wanting to make.

Having said that, there was something that never quite made it past the Ice Age with Desert Demons. I think one of the big pitfalls with this kind of script is that it can very easily turn into a bunch of people running around in circles. If the writer isn’t ON IT as far as keeping every character goal-oriented, keeping every character motivated, keeping the story objective crystal clear to the audience, then things start to unravel. And that’s sort of how I felt. I just wasn’t really clear what was happening after awhile other than chaos.

That’s what I loved about Aliens so much and why I think it’s the best script in this genre. That group always had a plan. It might have been as simple as boarding up all of the entryways so the aliens couldn’t get in. It might have been rescuing Newt. It might’ve been sending Bishop out to the remote post to get the ship to send them down another plane.

In Desert Demons, I started to lose track of what the characters were after and what was going on. It seemed like we were just running back and forth between points A, B, and C. Since our characters began to drift, so did my concentration. And I think that’s a hugely important lesson. Characters drift = we drift. If Brian and Dave were to make their objectives bigger, clearer, with higher stakes and more focused directives, I think this script would be a lot more exciting. I was just never able to lock onto any clear goal while jumping between the two teams of characters.

The story is also missing a kick-ass hero. While I admit protagonists are not as important in horror movies as some other genres, I still think you need to give us someone awesome. I was disappointed by the cliché background of Jake being involved in a military accident. I feel like that’s the easiest backstory to go with. There was a little bit of intrigue with his superior, Danny, and what happened to them back in the war. But overall nothing stood out about it, or stood out about that relationship in general.

Another thing I would’ve loved was a monster that was more original. Now I know it’s difficult to create an original-looking monster on the page. Usually that stuff is done in pre-production. But just from a writing perspective, in my head these things looked exactly like the things in Pitch Black. They were flying. They were monsters. So it just felt way too familiar.

When you combine characters who start wandering with a protagonist who’s not very original with a monster we’ve already seen before… it’s hard to get me invested, especially because this isn’t my go-to genre to begin with.

What I’m curious to see, however, is how others who LOVE this genre respond. I remember saying a lot of these same things about Attack The Block, which a lot of people loved. So I’m wondering if horror fans are going to dig this for what it is – a fun little creature feature. I mean, look, watching monsters kill people is fun. I need a little more going on than that personally but I have a feeling that this script might have satisfied the hard core genre fans. I’ll be reading the comments closely to see if that’s the case.

I know you can request a copy of Desert Demons from Brian Logan at his site. You just need to include your name, position, company and email address.

[ ] Wait for the rewrite
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Maybe it’s because Pitch Black was brought up in the pitching of the script and that’s one of my favorite sci-fi scripts ever, but the big thing Desert Demons reminded me of was how important a memorable main character is. As it stands, “Demons” didn’t have that one big character that brought the story to the next level. That’s why I liked Pitch Black so much – because of Riddick. It didn’t matter if that script would’ve happened on an alien planet or on the beaches of Hawaii, we would’ve remembered that character! It’s been about 5 days since I read Desert Demons and I barely remember anyone. That CANNOT happen. You need to have that character that’s IMPOSSIBLE TO FORGET in your story, preferably your hero. This script could’ve benefited immensely from that.

I love you Melanie. Just not your film.

I generally like to bust out the optimism here on Scriptshadow. There are too many people bringing others down in this business. “You can’t do this.” “You can’t do that.” Everything, according to these folks, is terrible. The truth is, the people who make it in this business are the people who ignore the naysayers – who don’t get caught up in the negativity. That being said, I’m a moviegoer just like everyone else. And while I respect the fact that thousands of man-hours were put into these pieces of entertainment, I’m just as mad as anyone when the product I paid for is junk. So I’ve reserved one day of the year to air out my frustrations. I should note that I haven’t seen “In Time” or “My Sister’s Retarded” (or whatever that Adam Sandler movie is called), both of which I hear are beyond terrible. And of course any year with a Transformers movie means that movie is automatically number 1 – so I won’t even bother putting it on the list. As for the rest of these films, each of them took my breath away. As in, I almost died of boredom watching them. Beware of what follows. It gets ugly.

10) Win-Win – Maybe Win-Win shouldn’t be on this list. It’s a competently made film with some okay moments. But I’m including it because it was the most average film I saw all year. And “average” can sometimes be worse than “bad.” I’ve had a problem with McCarthy’s films for awhile now, never quite understanding all the love they got, but going along with it because they were independent and Rotten Tomatoes always seemed to give them high scores. I figured it was my fault I didn’t like them. But after this movie, I’m not falling for it anymore. The narrative in Win-Win is all over the place. The central relationship between the boy and the coach is uninspired. I’m not even sure what the motivation of our protagonist is. To win a wrestling championship? I don’t get the sense that’d change his life in any way. So where are the stakes? The kid is boring. The grandfather scam is okay but ultimately unsatisfying. The mom stuff is cliché. There’s just nothing to grab onto here. It feels like one giant exploratory first draft.

9) Everything Must Go – I can’t tell you how much it pains me to put this on my list. For those readers new to the site, Everything Must Go was my favorite script a couple of years ago. I thought it was such a clever story – the idea of this guy being kicked out of his house, forced to live on his lawn with all his “stuff,” then realizing that stuff was a symbol of his past and that in order to move on, he would have to get rid of it all, which he does in a yard sale. Unfortunately, I can’t remember a movie where the performances were as dead as this one. The kid was boring. Will Ferrell was boring. Even the captivating Rebecca Hall seemed confused. Like “Am I supposed to like you or just be a helpful pregnant neighbor?” It was as if the entire cast was sleepwalking through the movie. And when your entire movie takes place in one location, the performances need to be amazing. I learned a lot from this film. Unless you’re writing a thriller or a horror film, be wary of placing your movie in a single location.

8) Cowboys And Aliens – Here’s a question for you. Who wins in a fight? Cowboys? Or Aliens? No wait, let me be more specific. Who wins in a fight? People 140 years less advanced than us? Or aliens 1 million years more advanced than us? Hmmm, let me think about that for a second. I don’t know. It’s a tough call. I mean the cowboys do have horses. Oh yeah, wait. THE ALIENS DO! But apparently the producers of this movie thought this was some sort of even battle, not realizing that any rational person would realize that if the Cowboys won, it would only be because the writers cheated. But that wasn’t this script’s only problem. The writers decided to write a movie where nothing happens for 60 minutes. I mean seriously. What happens in the first hour of this movie? The highlight for me in this film was realizing that one of the actors was Captain Hadley from The Shawshank Redemption.

7) No Strings Attached – Look, Ashton Kutcher seems like a nice guy. No, really, he does. And I’m not even mad at him for cheating on Demi Moore. But come on. This guy cannot act to save his Twitter Account. When you then combine his talents with Natalie Portman, who is to rom-coms what Snooki is to book clubs, you get the abomination that is No Strings Attached. Not only do these two look uncomfortable in their own skin, but they have zero chemistry together. No. They have negative chemistry together. Is it possible to have negative chemistry? I’m going to look that up because if not, we may have just made a major scientific discovery. Which would mean at least something good came of this film. It didn’t help that Liz Merriwether’s original script was sanitized down to a faux-edgy piece of fluff. Natalie, I love you. But stay away from anything resembling comedy. Ashton, I love you, but stay away from anything resembling movies.

6) The Dilemma – I just…I just don’t know what to say about this terrible film. Actually, I do. How is it that you can overlook a story flaw so big, it eclipsed the sun the day the final draft was turned in? A movie about whether a guy should tell his best friend that his wife is cheating on him? That’s not a movie. That’s a subplot. That’s a scene. But if you think you’re going to keep an audience’s interest for an entire film with that sort of secondary conflict, you need to be sent to screenwriter jail. No chance of parole. This is a movie! The conflict has to be bigger!! Our main character’s girlfriend is the one who has to be cheating. But even if you don’t take that into account, it still doesn’t make sense. Should you tell your best friend that his girlfriend is cheating on him or not? Hmmmmmm…um YEAH! You should. Movie over. And on top of all this we have to endure Vince Vaughn and Kevin James bumping into things for 90 minutes. Here’s a dilemma for you. Do you tell an established producer that the movie he’s about to make is going to be terrible?

5) Happythankyoumoreplease– Oh Josh Radnor. I still remember the day I read your script. I still remember thinking how beautiful the writing was, how amazing the characters were, how original the story was. Yeah, it was a bit self-congratulatory in places. But overall, I was amazed by your talent as a screenwriter. And then you had to go and direct the film even though you’d apparently never picked up a camera before. Long shot, close up, close up. Long shot, close up, close up. All that was missing was a wind-up bolex and 3 reels of 8mm black and white film. I can’t remember a single moment where a character was actually moving. Everybody always seemed to be sitting down in small rooms. And then of course there was the…..duh duh DUHHHHH…. COUPLE OF DEATH! I will never forget that couple, the way they argued over and over again about the same thing. About how depressed they looked. About how depressing they were. Those scenes were so torturous that I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from them. R.I.P. The Couple Of Death. R.I.P. Happythankyoumoreplease.

4) Somewhere – Look, I’m all for experimental film…WHEN YOU’RE A FILM STUDENT. But when you’re asking people to pay ten bucks for your movie, a cohesive storyline is required. Or a goal. Or a purpose. Or a point. “Somewhere” is a film that feels cobbled together from random dailies and rehearsal takes. Isn’t one of the first things you learn as a writer to cut out all the boring parts? When you start putting theme and symbolism and experimentation ahead of entertainment, you’re playing with fire in a fireworks factory. People will only travel down that path for so long before they start asking where you’re going. Coppola better be careful. She’s quietly directing herself out of the business. The title to this film is appropriate: “Somewhere.” Unfortunately, neither the director nor the audience knew where.

3) Sanctum – James Cameron should be ashamed of himself for producing and supporting this crap. What disappoints me so much is that Cameron understands the value of story. He made his living as a screenwriter before he became a filmmaker, and while it’s not his biggest strength, he’s pretty darn good at it. So why, then, does NOTHING HAPPEN IN THE FIRST 50 MINUTES OF THIS MOVIE??? I remember a 7 minute helicopter landing scene. I remember 20 minutes of people radioing each other back and forth in a cave about NOTHING. There was no main character as far as I could tell. No point to any of the action. It’s never good when nearly a full hour into the film you’re still asking the question, “What is this movie *about*?” I mean I could’ve improved this script by 1000% had you just given me 30 minutes. If your movie revolves around a mysterious and fascinating cave, then DON’T ALREADY START in the cave. We have to go in there together. Discover it together. Build some actual suspense. Where’s the fun in everybody already being inside? And you know what? I actually would’ve been okay with this IF the reason for it was so we could jump right into the story. Except we get there, then listen to people radio each other back and forth for 50 MINUTES! So the whole point to starting late isn’t even taken advantage of. I wish somebody would’ve pushed me into this cave also.

2) Beginners – No no no. Make it end. The memories of this film still burn inside of my brain. Pretentious. So pretentious. Have not seen a movie this pretentious since film school. Subtitles whenever the dog talks. Make it stop. Entire movie told out of order for no other reason than the writer wanting to be weird and different. 83 year old father coming out and going to clubs that play house music so he can pick up 30 year old men. Non-stop voice over telling us insignificant things or stuff we already know. 83 year old newly gay father is also dying of cancer. Of course he is! We must make this indie and different and as pretentious as possible! No story here. Just a writer trying to be “deep” and different for different’s sake. Sometimes random images would flash across the screen. Because of the pretentiousness. They hadn’t hit the quota yet so they had to keep going. This movie was a cinematic fatwa. The only reason it isn’t number one on my list is because of Melanie Laurent who was as cute as a jelly bean. Thank you Melanie for saving me from a boredom coma.

1) Skyline – Sometimes Redbox sends me codes for free movies. I used one to get Skyline. I still want a refund. Apparently a couple of visual effects wizards figured they’d skimp on screenplay costs and, what the hell, WRITE THIS MOVIE THEMSELVES. As a result, we get 47 scenes in a hotel room that I’m pretty sure were the same scene from 47 different angles. Oh, and 5 scenes where they peek outside and see aliens. I couldn’t begin to tell you what the plot was here. Some guy is staying at a hotel. Maybe he’s an actor. His friends come by. I think one of them just won a Ferrari in a game show or something. Game Show Ferrari Guy gets mad at our hero because, um, well because it’s a movie and people get mad at each other in movies. People’s faces turn blue sometimes because, um, room service sucks? I have no idea. Note to aspiring filmmakers out there. Not anyone can write a script. Find some money and pay someone who knows what they’re doing. At the very least your movie will be coherent.

Oh man. I really needed that. Those were some pretty awful movies. But stay tuned for tomorrow when Happy Carson returns. My 15 favorite movies of the year, which I promise will contain some surprises. See you then. :)