Hey everyone.  Doing something a little different today.  Tom Benedek, the writer of Cocoon, interviewed me for his class last week at Screenwriting Master Class.  Since I put so much into the interview and covered a wide range of screenwriting topics, I thought you guys might want to read it.  Enjoy!

How did you get started? What has your professional journey been like?
I started out wanting to be one of those filmmakers who does everything – the Robert Rodriquez type – write, direct, edit, produce. So when I first came to LA, I got a job at a postproduction house with the hopes of using it as a place to edit my films. Unfortunately I ended up accidentally destroying a $100,000 piece of machinery and they never let me into an editing bay again. That was the first roadblock to me achieving my dreams, of which there were many more.

How did the Script Shadow blog evolve?
It evolved when I realized how much there was to learn through reading screenplays. I was sitting there thinking, “I wish there was somebody out there when I first started out to tell me how important this was because if there had been, I could’ve saved myself a lot bad scripts and a lot of heartache.” At some point, I realized that I could become that person to other young screenwriters, and that’s how Scriptshadow was born.

Did you study filmmaking?
I did study filmmaking. The problem was I studied it at the single worst filmmaking school in the entire country, Columbia Film School in Chicago. One of my professors was an alcoholic. Over the course of the semester he played Full Metal Jacket 9 times, believing each time that it was the first time he was showing it. Another professor would spend the first 20 minutes of every class telling us how he wished he was anywhere else but here. One of my professors was five years younger than me (I was 23 at the time) and she would break down into hysterics at least once a month. And trying to get a camera to shoot on there was the equivalent of fighting in the Serbian-Bosnian war. It was just not a pleasant experience.

Describe your relationship with managers and agents.
A unique one. In many ways, I do exactly what they do, the difference being that I don’t have a horse in the race. All of us are looking for the best material out there. All of us want to read something that makes us excited and that we can tell other people about. The difference with me is that I might celebrate something that’s not as commercially viable as the agents and managers because the agents and managers have to go out there and sell the script whereas I just have to enjoy it.

Are you dealing with managers as much as agents in seeking material?
I would say moreso with managers than with agents. Agents don’t really develop material. They just try and sell it. Whereas managers are very interested in making scripts better, which is why they like the site, because that’s the kind of stuff I talk about – what needs work in a script.

What is your process for writing notes on scripts you read?
I have a very specific way I approach critiquing a screenplay. When I open a script, the last thing I’m thinking about is all the rules of screenwriting. I’m not sitting there going, “Nuh nuh nuh, it’s already page 15 and you haven’t gotten to your inciting incident yet. You lose.” All I care about is being swept away, being entertained. It’s only after I’m finished with the script that I go back and try to figure out why a script did or did not work. For instance, I might say, “Man, that second act was really slow. Let’s go back and try to figure out why.” And I might find out that the hero wasn’t active enough. He may have been sitting around and waiting for things to happen too much. That’s how I analyze screenplays.

Is it gratifying to see scripts get better through the development process?
Oh definitely. I think it’s one of the most rewarding things about what I do. One thing I’ve learned is that the majority of writers out there, even the good ones and the ones with talent, aren’t always able to navigate the problems in their screenplays. They need the guidance of people who have read thousands of screenplays or made tons of movies. And with the right guidance, even inexperienced writers can write great scripts. That’s what happened with Oscar winners Diablo Cody, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. None of them really understood how to write a screenplay when they wrote those scripts, but they had some great people guiding them, telling them what to get rid of and telling them how to improve what already worked.

Are they getting better most of the time as they are developed?
No, unfortunately not. You’re at the mercy of the writer’s talent as well as how the writer chooses to execute your notes. If someone has bad instincts, or simply instincts that are different from what you intended with a note, they can easily make a script worse rather than better. Oscar winner Christopher McQuarrie self admittedly did this for an entire decade before he got back in the game with Valkyrie. Either he didn’t understand the producer’s notes or the notes themselves weren’t very good and he just ended up writing scripts in circles that never ended up being good enough.

Are you reading many spec scripts each week? Or just projects in development?
I read unsold spec scripts, sold spec scripts, as well as projects in development. I mainly try and read spec scripts because those give the best education for the writers that read my site. They get to see a review of the actual material that a writer came up with on their own that sold. That’s a completely different process from a studio developing something in-house.

How does the spec market look from your side?
Well right now it looks great. There’ve been double the amount of sales this year than each of the last two years. So people are out there buying for sure. It isn’t like the 90s of course, but it’s still pretty darn good relatively speaking.

Are the films better than the scripts once they are shot?
Personally, it seems that the scripts themselves are usually better and I think that’s because making a film is so hard. You have to compromise so much in terms of money and time that you usually just don’t have what you need to live up to the script. The exception would be the really big budget movies like Transformers 8 and Pirates Of The Carribean 13 where the scripts are so bad that it’s impossible not to come up with something better.

What are the most important criteria in your evaluation process?
Character and structure. Those are the two things that are butchered time and time again and that’s because it takes a really long time to learn how to create great characters and plot your movie in such a way that it doesn’t drag. There are plenty of other super important things of course, but those two are the biggest in my eyes.

Do you have conversations or contact with other people who you consider great readers?
Yes, all the time. That’s one of the great things about my blog is that it allows me to meet a lot of other people who do what I do – read a lot of scripts. Needless to say, we always end up complaining about the same issues that we see over and over again in screenplays.

Can anyone read/evaluate a script?
Of course! A Scriptshadow reader sent me a review once, timidly disclosing that it was the first time he’d ever read a script. He gave his opinion and bookended it by saying it was probably pointless because he was so inexperienced. But some of the most honest critiques come from people who know nothing about screenplays. They say things like, “That one scene where he killed the guy was so stupid.” It may not have any fancy-schmancy screenwriting terms in it, but this is the kind of thing an average movie goer is going to say. It then becomes my job to go back and ask “Why did he think that scene was stupid?” It may be because it was cliché. It may be because it wasn’t set up well. It may be because both of the characters were boring. But everybody’s opinion is valid. Now can anyone read a script and give thoughtful critical analysis that can help a writer improve his material? No. That takes a lot of skill and experience.

Is style as important as story?
Definitely not. I would say not even close. I always tell people that screenwriting is not a writing competition. It’s a storytelling competition. That said, you do have to have some style to your writing. You can’t write like a robot or the reader’s going to be bored.

Can style make a script work even if the structure and characters end up being shaky?
No way in hell. Actually, I take that back. I’ve read like three scripts (out of thousands) where the style was so fun that even though the story was kind of stupid, I enjoyed them. I reviewed one of them on the site. It was called “Fiasco Heights.” Here’s the log: “A gunman returns to the crime-ridden city of Fiasco Heights and teams with a degenerate gambler/private eye on the run from a syndicate to look for a beautiful femme fatale.” But this is a very rare exception. Style almost never makes up for lack of substance.

Do the scripts you see trend in any direction in terms of areas that seem to work?
Yes. The scripts that tend to do the best on the market are scripts that have a lot of urgency. So if you have a movie about a guy who needs to do something in 72 hours, that’s probably going to have a better chance on the spec market than if you have a movie about a guy who has to do something in 72 years. As scary as it sounds, a movie like The Proposal, which takes place over a single weekend, would have a better chance on the spec market than a script like When Harry Met Sally, which takes place over like 15 years.

Should every writer have a two sentence logline in their head before they start writing a script?
I think it’s helpful and I’ll tell you why. When you write out a logline, you give yourself a focused synopsis that helps you control your story. One of the biggest mistakes I see in a lot of amateur screenplays is stories that wander all over the place. If you come up with a very specific logline that has a clear direction for your main character with clear stakes and clear conflict, then you’ll never be at a loss as to what to write next. When people don’t know what to write next or get lost in their story, it’s almost always because their central idea is muddled and unclear.

Are some reads more alive, spontaneous though flawed in certain ways?
Yes. I actually run into a lot of these types of screenplays where there’s definitely an energy and uniqueness to the story that makes you want to keep reading, but the structure might be all over the place, the plot might be muddled, a few of the characters might be lame. I usually see this with really talented writers who are just starting out. They obviously have an interesting imagination and a unique way they see the world, but they haven’t yet learned how to write a screenplay. What new screenwriters have to realize is that writing in different mediums is like speaking in different languages. And out of every storytelling medium out there (novels, plays, video games, short stories, poems), screenwriting is the hardest. It’s the Chinese language of storytelling. So it just takes a really long time to learn how to speak that language, no matter how talented you are. It took me a long time to realize that but boy is it true.

How many “uncommercial” “non-genre specific” script projects are there in the studio system vs. the more mainstream projects?
I was just reading that leaked e-mail exchange between Scott Rudin, the producer of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, and the critic who jumped the review embargo on the film. In it, the critic expressed frustration that the studio system only made 8 good movies a year and they were all crammed into the last two weeks of the year. And he’s right. So that’s my answer. Eight. And the worst part about that stat is that none of them are ever spec scripts. They’re always some sort of adaptation. The good news is that there are plenty of opportunities for uncommercial or non-genre specific projects outside of the studio system.

Can you feel the writer’s passion for their project in the writing?
Definitely. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always mean that the script itself will be good. I just read this sprawling period epic from somebody who had clearly worked on the script for years, and I could feel his love for the subject matter on every page. But the script itself was boring. The subject matter was too confusing, too sprawling and too ambitious. And I told him that. It’s really hard to make movies like that unless you’re already entrenched inside of the studio system with a high level production deal. But the simple answer to your question is yes. And it should be noted that it’s even easier to tell when a writer has no passion for what they’re writing about.

What are your top 10 favorite movies?
This list will change depending on the week but…
Star Wars
Back To The Future
The Fugitive
The Shawshank Redemption
When Harry Met Sally
Rosemary’s Baby
Aliens
Rocky
Good Will Hunting
The Princess Bride

Top 10 favorite scripts?
It’s pretty similar to the movies I listed above. But as far as unproduced material, I have a top 25 list on the right side of my blog that lists all of my favorite screenplays.

Are there great movies that didn’t come from great scripts?
I think it’s a rare but it does happen. I mean I love Terrence Malick’s movies but trying to get through one of his scripts is like trying to read the dictionary. The best movies that come from subpar scripts tend to come from visionary directors, guys like Malick and Aronfsky.

Are there great scripts that just did not work as movies? Why?
Yes, a lot of them. And I actually just learned this lesson to a severe degree this year. Two of my favorite scripts were Everything Must Go and Happy Thank You More Please. Unfortunately, both of them were bad movies, especially Happy Thank You More Please. Now a big reason why “Happy” was so bad was because the budget was so limited and the director was a first timer who was shooting everything like he was in his first week of film school. But I think what I learned in both instances was that movies that are solely based around character development can work really well on the page, but once they get up on screen, they sit there. Movies are visual. So if all you see is the same thing over and over again, your brain starts to get bored. Will Ferrell is sitting down in his backyard for 80 percent of Everything Must Go. That didn’t really bother me when I read it. But once I saw it up on screen, I just wanted to scream, “Go somewhere!” There are other factors involved of course (I’m not sure Ferrell was right for the part) but if there’s too much of a stillness to your movie, if all that’s happening is characters sitting around talking to each other, you might be in trouble when it comes time to film.

How important is great dialogue?
Really important and not really important. I say that because 45 percent of screenwriting is getting the structure right and 45 percent is getting the characters right. Dialogue is just that last 10 percent and it doesn’t matter how good it is if you didn’t nail those first two things. I actually laugh whenever actors say they “rewrote a script” by changing a lot of the dialogue. The only reason you were able to change the dialogue was because a writer did a year of work building up your characters and all the scenes surrounding your characters to a point where they’d be entertaining. Once you’ve done that, dialogue is fairly easy. Having said that, if dialogue is really bad, for example stilted and on the nose, then that can really bring a script down.

Are there great scripts without great dialogue?
It depends on what you mean by “great.” There are certain genres that depend on dialogue and there are genres that don’t. Comedies for example require a real ear for twisted, funny, cute, clever dialogue. Thrillers on the other hand are much more about tension and suspense. The audience doesn’t care if the writer can write a line like, “Oh my blog” in Black Swan. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t still love Black Swan.

What do you want screenwriters to do better, to work on, in general? What is missing
in the scripts you are reading?
Just a clear commitment to your script. One of the biggest problems I see with young writers is that they’re okay with 60 or 65 percent. They don’t push themselves to make every single scene as good as it can possibly be, every single character as good as they can possibly be. They have this mentality of, “well this is good enough”. So I read a lot of average scripts and it’s because the writer isn’t pushing themselves or trying something unique or adding a new spin or trying to make every scene pop. Now some of that has to do with the writer not yet understanding how to do that stuff yet. But no matter what stage you’re at, you should be giving 100 percent effort.

Any other advice?
Write as much as you can, read as many screenplays as you can, and learn as much as you can about screenwriting. The more time you put into those three facets the better you’re going to get.

Would you like to produce films?
On the development end? Definitely. But certainly not on the production end. I can barely schedule my day, much less the days of 250 other people!

What are the most important things you have learned about Hollywood from your work?
That the gatekeepers aren’t these mystical wizards who wave a magic wand over a script to either let it come through or not. It’s much more black and white than that. The people who run Hollywood are people who have jobs, just like you have a job. And they want to keep that job. And the only way they can keep that job is if they find movies that are going to make money. I don’t see enough screenwriters recognizing that fact. They hold onto this delusional ideal that they can write a coming-of-age film about an albino pastor living in 1782 Germany and that somebody out there is actually going to buy that. Think about that for second. If you were a producer with a $2,000,000 discretionary fund tasked with finding 4 or 5 scripts a year to turn into movies that will make the company money so they can KEEP making films, would you bet on your script? I’m not talking in the fun dreamworld scenario where you have nothing on the line by saying “yes.” I’m asking if you were a real producer who had the power to buy a few scripts a year, and you knew that if you screwed up even one of those purchases and bought something that had no chance of being made because it had no financial potential, that you would get fired, would you buy your script? That’s how you have to think of this business, and writers are shooting themselves in the foot by not seeing it that way.

What are the most surprising things you have learned?
How long it takes the average screenwriter to make it. I always assumed that if you were a good screenwriters you would make it in Hollywood in less than a year. But it takes most screenwriters 7 to 10 years to really figure out how to write a good script. I know that’s terrifying but that’s what I’ve found to be true. If you can make it in five or less, you are way ahead of the game.

So here’s the scenario. You’ve just been told you’re going to die from cancer in six months. As you sit down and consider what’s most important (family, friends, etc.) you realize that the one thing you want to do before you leave this earth is sell a screenplay. That’s been your dream. If you can pull that off, you’ll die a happy man/woman. But where do you begin? If it was easy, you would’ve done it by now, right? Well, amazing things can happen when you have a literal ticking time bomb lighting a fire under your ass. The main reason you haven’t sold a script yet is because you haven’t maximized your chances. You haven’t skewed all the odds in your favor. Remember, all you want to do is sell a script. It’s not about “art.” It’s not about “staying true to yourself.” You just want to sell a script. With that in mind, I’m going to lay out the most likely plan for achieving this goal. In other words, this is what I would do if I were you.

6 months equals 24 weeks (roughly). Let’s break those weeks down.

WEEKS 1-4 – Come up with idea, maximize story potential, outline. 

1) THE IDEA – Here is the most important choice you will make in this entire process because it’s going to MAXIMIZE YOUR READS later on. The more reads you get, the better chance you’ll have of selling your script. You need to come up with a high concept easy to understand idea that you can see 13-25 year olds racing out to the theater to see – Think big. Aliens. Time-travel. Gladiators. Car racing. Dream heists. Dinosaurs. Super-heroes. The apocalypse. Killers with masks. Big ironic comedy situations. Mythical creatures. Ghosts. Monsters. Nazis. Lower budgeted versions of these ideas will give you more potential buyers, but if you’ve got a really great high concept idea, don’t worry about the budget. — Now there are some things I want to mention here. Make sure you’re INTERESTED in the subject matter. If you’re a vampire fan, don’t write about aliens. Write about vampires. Even if we’re just writing this to sell, your love for the subject matter must come through on the page. People can smell a cash grab, which may be what this is. But if you love your cash grab idea, it’s going to read a lot better than if you don’t. Next, the idea has to be clever or unique in some way. It can’t be “Aliens land on earth and start destroying things.” We’ve seen that before. “The Days Before,” a spec that sold a couple of years ago, had aliens jumping back in time a day at a time to destroy earth. It was different. Your idea has to be different. Finally, TEST DRIVE YOUR IDEA. This will be one of the most IMPORTANT STEPS YOU’LL MAKE IN SELLING YOUR SCRIPT! Mix up your idea with ten others (find other loglines from Scriptshadow or Tracking Boards) and have your friends rank them. If your idea doesn’t consistently finish near the top, don’t write the script. Come up with another batch and start over again. I know time is ticking but I can’t stress how important this part of the process is for later.

2) CLEAR STORY – I would make sure that this is a clear easy-to-understand story. A hero with a CLEAR GOAL he DESPERATELY WANTS TO ACHIEVE. Indiana Jones going after the Ark. Marty McFly trying to get back to the future. Colter trying to find the terrorist in Source Code. Note that this doesn’t mean “dumb your story down.” I don’t think anyone would call Raiders or Back To The Future “dumbed down.” It just means not having 7 different subplots winding around a murky narrative. Hero desperately trying to achieve something and shit gets in his way. That’s the structure you want you to go with.

3) MAIN CHARACTER – I would have an interesting male main character. Remember, a big actor has to want to play the lead role. That means the role should be juicy and in the 28-45 age range. Have some conflict going on inside of them. Neo doesn’t believe in himself. Denzel in The Book Of Eli (a big spec sale from a first timer) is afraid to get close to others. Make sure there’s something – it doesn’t have to be game-changing – but SOMETHING the main character is battling. Because one of the first questions the producers will ask is, “Who can I cast in this role?”

4) KEEP IT EXCITING – Make sure something interesting and/or unexpected happens every 15 pages or so. 110 pages is a lot of white space and watching one character try to do the same thing for 2 straight hours is boring. So unexpected things need to happen along the way to mix it up. Have your main character die (Source Code), get caught by the Germans (Indiana Jones) or get to his destination only to realize it’s no longer there (Star Wars). If something interesting or unexpected or surprising or stake-raising doesn’t happen every 15 pages or so, your script is probably getting boring.

5) OUTLINE – Outlining saves you rewrite time later. All of the things I listed above (clear goal, interesting main character, something happens every 15 pages), you’ll only be able to do because you’ve outlined. Get yourself a good 3-10 pages to work with and make sure all the major story beats are covered. It’s okay if you don’t have all the details figured out. As long as you know where you’re heading, you’ll be fine. No outline and no direction will equal a wandering storyline. We can’t afford that if we’re going to sell this puppy.

Weeks 5-10 – Write The Script

6) WRITE – I would write at least 8 hours a day. But because you’re dying, you should probably write even more. Also, because you’re dying, you’re not allowed those excuses you usually use. “Oh, I’m not feeling it. I’m going to take the rest of the day off.” Or, “Maybe I should go watch a movie to get some inspiration.” You’re dying. Every second is valuable. You have to WRITE. And you know what? It shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already outlined. So you know where your script is going. If you run into a tough scene, switch over to a later scene. Doesn’t matter if this isn’t the way you usually write. YOU’RE DYING. You need to maximize your time. ABW. Always be writing!

Weeks 11-15 – Feedback and Rewrite

7) FEEDBACK – Afterwards, give it to a few friends/family. Now this is important. You need to convince your friends/family to be honest. A pat on the back does nothing for you. You need them to mean, cruel, heartless. Get them to tell you what works and what doesn’t work. They’re your friends and your family so they’re always going to be too nice, but I’ve found that if you ask them pointed questions, their true feelings start to come out. You’ll hear frustration, indifference, disbelief, impatience. So keep track of when those reactions come up and star those parts of the script as problem areas.

8) REWRITE – I would love to have more than a month for my rewrite but time is running out man! The good news is we picked a clean narrative (a main character with a goal he desperately wants to achieve) so the fixes shouldn’t be too complicated. Isolate the big problems in the script. Come up with solutions. Start the rewriting. After you’re finished, polish it up and make it as easy to read as possible. No long paragraphs. An easy succinct style.

9) PROOFREAD – You may only have 3 months to live, but you’re not stupid. You’re not going to go all this way only to get your script rejected because of too many typos in the first ten pages. I don’t care how much blood you’re coughing up. Make that script as clean as a whistle.

Weeks 16 – 24 – Sell it

10) RESEARCH – This is the place where most writers fail. They have their script but no place to go with it. That’s why I’ve given you 8 weeks for this section. This is going to take some effort on your part and probably require you to do things you’re not comfortable doing. Well suck it up Sally. You only have two months to live. If you can’t face your fears now, when can you? To ease you into this tumultuous section, I’ll start with something simple. RESEARCH! Subscribe to IMDBPro (don’t sweat the 20 bucks, you can’t take money to the afterlife) and write down the producers names/companies who worked on every movie that’s ever been like yours in the last 10 years. Do the same with the Black List. Do the same with any spec sale that hasn’t been made yet. Find the producers who bought/worked on those movies and write down their phone numbers (IMDBPro has most phone numbers. Savvy googling should find you the rest). Your list should have somewhere between 100-300 names.

11) CONNECTIONS – Okay, we’re almost in the arena – where you’re going to fight to the death. It’s going to be unpleasant. So here’s one last area to prepare you. You need to call every single person you know and ask them if they know anyone in Hollywood who will read your script. Depending on where you live, this might be 3 people. It might be 20. And chances are, they won’t be Spielberg or Cameron. But they’ll be working in the industry. And if they like your script, they just might know someone else to pass it on to. So call these people up. Be excited. Thankful. Chatty. Don’t bring up your chemo treatments. Say that you’d love the opinion of someone who works in the business. Would they read your script? They’ll probably all say yes which will put you in the perfect mindset for the most difficult part of this entire process. So pump yourself up. It’s time to start calling all those numbers you researched.

12) COLD CALLING – Cold calling sucks. But guess what? You’re dying. Cold calling can’t be worse than that can it? You’re going to go directly to the producers here. You don’t have time to wait for agents. Now, pay attention, because cold calling is an art. You’re going to call these people and be upbeat, nice, cordial, energetic (but not TOO energetic) and professional. You’ll get the secretary, who will probably sound impatient, but don’t let that phase you. You have 199 other people to call if she stonewalls you. But she won’t. Because you’re going to keep this simple. You’ll say something to the effect of, “Hi, this is Jane Smith. Is Mr. Adams (the producer) in?” “May I ask what this is in regards to?” she’ll probably ask. “Yes, it’s about my script Act of Vengeance.” Depending on the status of the producer, you may or may not get through to them. A quick detail to remember. There’s a ton of turnover in these secretary jobs so this person is probably just as new to this as you. DO NOT BE INTIMIDATED.

13) PRODUCER CONVERSATION – I hope you don’t mind lying, because you’re about to. This is what you’ll say: “Mr. Adams. Hi, this is Jane Smith. You read one of my scripts awhile back and I have a new one I’d love to send over.” Now you may be afraid of getting caught in this lie. Don’t. Producers receive a TON of material. An endless amount. They can barely remember what they read last week, much less something they read two years ago. And they don’t read most of the scripts anyway. So there’s no way they can prove that you’re lying. If they press you, be vague. “Where do we know each other from?” “Oh we haven’t formally met but I sent my other script to your assistant a couple of years back.” If everything works out, he’ll say, “Sure, send it over.” But, he might say, “Yeah, have your agent send it over.” Don’t freak out. An important thing to know is that there are a lot of solid writers out there without representation or “between” representation. So just say, “Oh, I’m not represented at the moment. Is it okay if I get a release form from your assistant?” He might say yes, he might say no. But you should probably hit with at LEAST 30% of these calls. So if you call 200 producers – that’s 60 PEOPLE READING YOUR SCRIPT! And not just any people – but targeted people who make your kind of movie.

14) IF YOU’RE NOT A LIAR – Now if you don’t like lying (wimp), here’s an alternative approach. You’ll say: “Mr. Adams. Hi, this is Jane Smith. I just finished a script that I know your company will love. Can I send it over?” Don’t let any awkward pauses derail you. After collecting himself, he might say something like, “Have we met before?” Just reply, “No, not personally. But I know how much you love these kinds of movies and I really think you’ll like this. It’s about [recite your logline.]” And THIS is where all that hard work you did at the beginning will pay off. Had you gone with your passion project idea (a wheat farmer who’s been a victim of domestic abuse goes on a spiritual journey through Peru), you’d get hung up on. But because you test drove and went with an intriguing high concept idea, the first thing that will go through that producer’s mind is, “Hmmm, that actually sounds like it could be a movie.” “Sure, send it over,” he’ll say. If he says he can’t accept unsolicited material, ask if you can sign a release form. If he still says no, thank him for his time and hang up. Then, either right then or later, call back and talk to the secretary. Tell her it didn’t sound like Mr. Adams had time to read your script, but is there any way she could read it? Remember, these secretaries are desperate to move up. If they bring their boss an awesome surefire 300 million dollar box office hit, they’re set for life. Tell them you’ll be happy to sign a release form. They might say no but don’t sweat it if they do. Just go on to the next person.

15) STAY ON IT – Keep working the phones. Call people back. Remind people to read your script. 2 weeks is the industry standard for you to politely check in and ask if they’ve read your script yet. I didn’t realize how important this was until I started getting submissions myself. Even when I like an idea, I sometimes get bombarded with work and simply forget about it. A number of Amateur Friday reviews came directly from people reminding me about their screenplay. Keep doing this. Stay on top of it. You can’t get a yes unless they read it so you’ll have to remind them until they do. Even if that reminder is from your death bed!

16) CELEBRATE – You wrote something fun and marketable. The plot was clear. The story had enough twists and turns to keep the reader interested. The main character was perfect for a movie star. And you got it to enough people that it finally found someone who fell in love with it. You did it. You sold a screenplay. Now go party your ass off before you kick the bucket.

If I had no Hollywood connections whatsoever, this is the path I’d take without question. Now all you have to do is convince yourself you’re going to die in six months and write your script. Just make sure to send me 10% when you sell it.

Genre: Contained Thriller/Found Footage
Premise: A group of detectives try to piece together a mass murder on a Vegas shuttle van via the video taken from the passengers.
About: Evidence sold as a naked spec (no attachments – hardest type of spec to sell) earlier this year for low six figures I believe. John Swetnam, the writer, is on Twitter and has tweeted his frustration over selling TWO specs now (he just sold Category 6 – another found footage script) and still having to live on a budget. That said, he apparently likes to burn both ends of the candle, flying into various cities and partying his ass off until the sun comes up. We definitely need more partying writers so do yo thang John.
Writer: John Swetnam
Details: 93 pages – undated (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).

Changed today’s review at the last second! I was getting sick of the heavy stuff. Needed something light and fluffy.

Late last year a writer asked me, “Should I write a found footage script? Or is that trend over?” I thought for a long time and finally answered, “You know, I think the found footage thing is about dead.” Turns out I was wrong. We had that silly Apollo 24 found footage film. We have that found footage film coming out about kids with superpowers. We’re already on a third Paranormal Activity film. Evidence sold earlier in the year. Swetnam sold “Category 6” (about dudes going into crazy storms) a few weeks ago. I’m starting to wonder if found footage films are like rap. Everybody kept calling rap a trend in the 80s, yet it just kept on going, like the Energizer bunny. Could found footage films become a legitimate genre? I’m done trying to be Nostradamus so I’ll let you guys decide.

We’re in the middle of the Nevada desert – a shuttle van smoldering at the side of the road with a huge hole in the side. Up ahead, an abandoned gas station has been blown to bits. There are bodies and pieces of bodies everywhere.

Nevada cops are pissed. No precinct likes mass murders on their watch. But luckily, they have a couple of survivors and a lot of video. One of the survivors, Rachel, a 20-something aspiring director, taped most of the ordeal with a handicam. There are also a couple of cell phone videos and a flip phone from the other passengers. It’s not every day that video of a crime lands in the authorities hands so they might actually be able to solve this quickly. The question is. Will they solve it correctly?

Rachel’s going on this Vegas trip with her best friend, actress Lean Hoodplatt. Despite having a weird last name, she’s gorgeous and talented and ready to take Hollywood by storm. But she’s having a tough time in her personal life, having recently rejected her boyfriend, Tyler’s, proposal. She’s convinced him to come on the Vegas trip, though, in hopes of patching things up.

There’s also 18 year old Steven, a goth-ish loner who’s using Vegas to escape his controlling mom. There’s Vicki, a single mother who wants to upgrade her stripping career. There’s Bitter Ben, the bus driver. And finally there’s the mysterious “Old Woman,” a sloppily dressed 50-something who’s running away from something. We just don’t know what yet.

As the primary video is from director Rachel, the first bits show her and Leann preparing for the trip. We then jump to the van, which somewhere between LA and Vegas blows a tire. Luckily, there’s an abandoned gas station up the road where they can hang out until someone finds them. But upon getting there, PEOPLE START DYING!

Evidence actually cuts back and forth between the footage and the Forensics Technology Room where the detectives try to weave this complicated puzzle together. Like any good whodunit, the prime suspects keep changing. At first we think it’s creepy 50 year old woman – cause the world is racist against the oldies, you know? Then we learneth that she has some mentally fucked up estranged husband, and that HE might have been waiting for them at the gas station – although I don’t know how the duo knew exactly where the van would blow a tire. But that’s neither here nor there.

What is here AND there is somebody in a coat and a soldering mask, which means even when they do get the killer on tape, they don’t know who it is. Although at least one thing is clear. The killer is one of the people on the bus. Who is it? Why are they killing everyone? You’ll have to read until the shocking twist ending to find out.

Evidence is like a walk on the first day of spring. The sun’s out. The air is brisk. There’s a nice breeze. But it’s still a walk. You’re still just…you know…walking. So it’s not THAT exciting. That said, you’re glad you did it.

The other day I railed on Black because I didn’t know ANYTHING about the characters. Nothing. And since I didn’t know anything, I didn’t care what the hell happened to them. Some commenters pointed out that people don’t go to horror movies for character development. That I agree with. But they do often LEAVE horror movies disappointed and don’t know why. The reason why is almost always because the characters sucked, so they didn’t care what happened to them.

Evidence gives us the PERFECT amount of character development for a movie like this. You don’t have time to get too in depth. Too much backstory can get in the way of a fast-paced horror film. But there’s still SOMETHING.

I know that Rachel wants to be a movie director. I know Leann wants to be an actress. I know there’s some recent drama between Leann and her boyfriend. I know that the stripper lost custody of her child. I know that Steven, the goth dude, had a falling out with his mother. None of it is too weighty or original. BUT IT’S THERE. It makes these characters more than names on a page. So I cared a lot more about these people than I did about Zombie Panda and the Panderettes.

One thing I’ve noticed with found footage is that it allows you to jump around a lot more freely than normal films and therefore keep the story moving at a breakneck pace. Wanna skip over a boring part of a conversation? Just pretend like the characters didn’t record that part. Movies are formatted to skip over the dumb parts as it is. But the found footage angle allows you to take this practice to the extreme. It’s the perfect device for our patience-challenged culture.

And you might not have noticed this. But the found footage angle actually allowed Swetnam to pull the “Crazy first scene than CUT TO ONE DAY EARLIER” device without it being annoying! Chances are you didn’t even notice it! That’s because it was an organic result of using the video tapes. Going backwards was a natural part of the way things were set up. A good reminder that annoying story devices aren’t annoying if they’re organic to the story.

But the most important triumph of this script is it really keeps you guessing. I’d already been told there was a twist ending. Yet still, I had no idea who the killer was. As each page went by, I only found myself more confused. “Well it can’t be THAT guy” I’d say, even though I’d been positive it WAS that guy. That happened like three times.

Does the script have problems? Well, there’s no doubt it feels “light.” Now that’s the kind of movie it is. It’s not trying to change the world or anything. But still, even with the character development, I felt Evidence leaving my brain almost immediately after it was over.

And I’m still trying to figure out which route this moron Shuttle driver took. I’ve driven that LA to Vegas route a few times and I have no idea how you’d get on an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere. There’s an interstate that goes directly from one city to the other. Maybe I missed something and they got off the main road for some reason, but if not, that definitely needs to be figured out.

Evidence was fun. A bag full of candy on a rainy day. Should make a good return investment for whoever makes it.

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

What I learned: This is a good example of writing for the market. Being aware of what audiences want, what studios are looking for, and giving them that. I don’t think enough writers approach it this way. Amateur Friday writer Adam Zopf made a great point in the comments section of his review – You don’t have to change the world with your script. In fact, if you’re trying to change the world with your script, there’s a good chance you’re writing a really boring script. Come up with a marketable idea, create some characters that you personally connect with to give it some depth, and then write the best damn script you can. I see too many good writers wallowing in obscurity because they’re trying to write the next Academy Award winning film. Save that stuff for when you’re established. Right now, write something that’s going to get people excited and break you in.

Note to readers: Guys, I know it’s difficult to discuss this script without discussing the ending, but I’m going to ask you to refrain from spoiling the ending. Most writers are fine with me reviewing scripts but get upset when a big twist is spoiled.Thank you.  :)

Genre: Thriller
Premise: An agent infiltrates a dangerous eco-terrorism unit only to find herself falling for the unit’s leader.
About: This is from Sundance sensation Brit Marling, whose film Another Earth has broken out of indie obscurity into slightly less indie obscurity. Supposedly, Brit would be playing the main character here, but I’ve also heard that Ellen Page would be playing the lead. So I’m not sure what’s going on. Brit is a multi-hyphenate. She writes. She directs. She acts. She bakes cookies. Let’s see Britney Spears do that! Not that innocent my ass! (only on Scriptshadow do you get pop culture references this current).
Writers: Zal Batmanglij and Brit Marling
Details: 113 pages – March 15, 2010 draft – draft 2.0 (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).

While today’s script doesn’t compare in zaniness to the first two scripts of the week, it isn’t exactly chopped liver in the originality department. In fact, on any other week, it would probably be the most original script of the bunch. The subject matter is kooky. The execution is unpredictable. The characters are strange. I can’t remember ever seeing a movie quite like it. But does that mean it’s good?

Hmmmm…

Maybe?

Here’s the thing – and I’ve said it before. Eco-terrorism and movies don’t mix. It’s been attempted over and over again and it just doesn’t work! The main reason for this is that the stakes of an eco-terrorist attack are dramatically lower than real terrorism. I mean how dangerous can a bunch of disgruntled uber-hippies be? Unfortunately not that dangerous. That means lives aren’t at stake. And that means the stakes of stopping them are never high. Teaching a pharmaceutical company a lesson by o.d.’ing them on their own drugs might be an interesting story in real life, but in a movie, it doesn’t have enough drama sauce.

The East follows Sarah Moss, a private agent at a security company that specializes in investigating enemies of major corporations. Kind of like a privatized version of the FBI. One of these corporations – it’s not clear which – hires the company to look into an eco-terrorist unit called “The East.” These aren’t the guys who stand in front of local supermarkets and threaten to drink chemical laced water from polluted lakes. These guys kidnap CEOs and force them to swim in their own chemical created sludge.

The agency decides that Sarah is the best agent for the job, so she transforms herself into a grungy “save the earth” hippie and burrows herself inside the group. Everything about The East is predictably weird and the members are all under mind control by a charming [decidedly less dangerous] Charles Manson-like leader named Benji.

Sarah is scared of Benji at first, but then finds herself attracted to him, something that isn’t going over well with his current girlfriend, Izzy, even though this place is supposed to be about the free love man. On top of that, Sarah has only lived a life for herself. She is selfish to a T, and isn’t used to having feelings for others.

So she must navigate the peculiar dynamics of the group to monitor their upcoming marks, and then report back to the agency, who for some reason she’s still able to visit whenever she wants (I guess she can just come and go as she pleases?). I wouldn’t say that Sarah ever becomes understanding of The East’s ideals, but she does start to like Benji and is torn by whether to take him down or not. However, in the end, that’s exactly the choice she’ll have to make.

Whenever you write an infiltration movie, they are certain mainstays you want to explore. The biggest one is you want your character to be torn. The more that the main character sees the other side’s point of view, the harder her choice becomes. That inner struggle leads to tension and that tension leads to drama, the lifeblood of any screenplay. This is what you see in Avatar for example. Jake Sulley is torn between what the humans stand for and what the Na’vi stand for. I didn’t think The East explored this enough. Sarah never sides with what these guys are doing so there was never a dilemma. Yes, she did start to like Benji, but that development came in way too late, almost like it was discovered on the last pass of the script and then thrown in as an afterthought. Therefore the script didn’t have nearly as much conflict as it could’ve had.

That’s not to say there was no conflict. Just the fact that our character could get caught at any moment created a good deal of drama. But because the cult weren’t killers – just advanced hoaxers – you always felt that if she did get caught, she’d simply be abandoned at the nearest town. Lack of true danger = lack of true drama.

The screenplay also suffered from MSS (Murky Story Syndrome). This is when the story isn’t laid out clearly for the reader – a huge problem in most amateur screenplays I read. I had a hard time figuring out, for example, who the agency was doing this job for and why doing it for them was so important.

I knew Sarah was infiltrating the group to get information on future attacks. But for who? Why does it matter if we don’t know who hired them? Because if I don’t understand the point of the infiltration, I don’t understand the stakes, and if I don’t understand the stakes, nothing else matters, because I won’t care. If I told you a story about how I got a flat tire right before work, and I had to race to put a spare on to get there in time, you probably wouldn’t care. But if I told you that the previous day, my boss said that if I was ever late to work again, he’d fire me, now that story becomes a lot more interesting, because there are actual stakes involved in me succeeding.

There were some things to like. As I said in the beginning, it didn’t feel like anything I’d read before. I was never quite sure where the script was going. I thought some of the stuff inside the cult was creepy. There’s a scene early on where they put Sarah in a straitjacket and tell her to eat some food without her hands. It’s a strange scene that works in a weird way. There’s a scene later on where Sarah sees members of the cult doing a strange Wicker Man-like ritual that’s also pretty spooky. And finally there’s a scene where they cleanse a naked Sarah in the river that gave me the heebie-jeebies. I actually wish they would’ve taken this a step further. The weirder and crazier you make the cult, the more interesting this movie gets. Because right now you don’t have any stakes. It never feels like anybody is truly in danger. But if you created this really whacked out unprecedented cult-like atmosphere, it might be enough to keep us entertained. That’s why The Wicker Man is such a classic – because you never knew what was coming next – you never knew just how wacky the people on this island could get.

So I would try to make this story clearer. I would try to add higher stakes within the cult. I would put more lives at risk. For example, I’d probably add a scene early on where they killed one of their own members for screwing up. That way for the entire rest of the movie we’d be terrified for Sarah – because we know if she got caught she was dead. I guess I just wanted more danger here. I wanted to feel more of an edge. Despite some original twists and turns, the story was too soft for me.

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

What I learned: The East taught me something pretty cool – that you can use specific word phrases as callbacks for later on in the script. They’re kind of like visual setups and payoffs in word form. So early on, the agency headquarters is described like this: “A building you might not notice from the road, but once you do, its design and simplicity haunt you.” Later on, the reemergence of this building becomes a key surprise plot turn. So when we round a corner, the writers describe the building in the exact same way: “A building you might not notice from the road, but once you do, its design and simplicity haunt you.” The payoff is more dramatic because the exact same description is used.

Genre: Comedy/Drama/Musical/Satire/Crazy
Premise: A bitter and frustrated movie blogger becomes obsessed with an award-winning director who he believes stands for everything that is wrong with the industry.
About: This is Charlie Kaufman’s next directing project. It will star Kevin Klein, Steve Carrell, Jack Black and Nicholas cage.
Writer: Charlie Kaufman
Details: 151 pages – May 17, 2010 draft (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).

If yesterday’s script was the meat lovers pizza of wacky screenplays, today’s script adds stuffed crust, double toppings, a gigantic side order of cheese sticks, and instructions on how to bake yourself into your next pizza. Charlie Kaufman is a great big weirdo. But he’s a weirdo with a voice unlike any other screenwriter in the world. We saw that in Eternal Sunshine. We got sucked up in it with Adaptation. And I don’t think anybody has written a screenplay as strange as Being John Malkovich. That is, until today. Charlie Kaufman has outdone himself. He has created one of the most bizarre pieces of screenplay real estate in the history of the United Screenplays of America.

This is life imitating art imitating life imitating art imitating life. I’m 30% sure that Kaufman planned for this script to be reviewed on Scriptshadow. And I’m 16% sure that this review is somehow a part of the movie. I’m also convinced that I’m supposed to record this review in song and sing it to you guys. What am I talking about? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. God help all of us for the next 5 minutes. Because there’s a good chance you won’t know who you are after this review is over.

Kaufman has opted to tackle one of the most difficult subject matters in screenwriting – the Hollywood satire. Anybody remember “Burn Hollywood Burn?” I do. It was awful. As is pretty much every satire about Hollywood. How do you satirize something that’s already ridiculous in itself? The same thing happened when Paul Weitz tried to satirize American Idol. Why make fun of something that already knows how cheesy it is? In short, you don’t want to satirize Hollywood. Which is exactly why Kaufman decided to do it.

Frank or Francis covers a lot of territory and a lot of characters. There is a disabled 60-year-old film loving woman in a wheelchair. There’s an actor known for his funny fat rolls who is now skinny so nobody cares about him anymore. There’s a director who’s constantly attacked for making lightweight movies (ahem – Michael Bay) who’s decided to write an equation for an Oscar winning screenplay. And of course, there’s a disembodied head. Yes, you heard that correctly. One of the characters is a disembodied head.

But the main storyline centers around Frank, a director who makes serious films that are always up for Oscar contention. When he wins for his latest film, Hapax Legomenon, there’s one person who refuses to accept it. That would be Francis. Francis is a twenty-something blogger (or possibly just a frequent commenter on a blog) who has seen every single movie ever and is furious about the state of film – particularly that hacks like Frank are seen as “auteurs.” As everyone knows, at least according to Francis, there hasn’t been a true auteur since the 1970s.

Francis doesn’t really do anything with his life other than scour the Internet for discussions about film and write out passionate angry discourses about how bad said films are. Even though this character is exaggerated for effect, it’s scary how familiar he is. In fact, I think we’ve seen versions of Francis right here on Scriptshadow.

Anyway, Francis is in love with another blogger named Mimi, who he somehow persuades to come out with him to Frank’s newest film, “You,” for which he’ll be doing a question and answer session afterwards. As the credits roll, Mimi is blown away by the film and believes Frank is the best director in the world. Francis is furious with her and proceeds to ask a long angry question about the half a dozen films Frank ripped off to make “You.” Everybody’s weirded out by Frank’s anger but he seems to think this is normal. Naturally, the question ensures there will be no second date with Mimi.

And then comes the singing. Yes, there’s a whole lot of singing in Frank or Francis. In fact, we get the first musical number in history with two blog commenters trading barbs via song. Trying to imagine a musical number with two people sitting in front of a computer is baffling enough. But to base it around film criticism is hilarious indeed.

Eventually – and I use that term liberally – a kind of story emerges centering around the upcoming Oscars. Frank is hoping to win another Oscar for his film, “You.” And Francis is doing everything in his power to alert the Internet how terrible “You” is. We’re also following 8 to 10 other characters, such as the disembodied head and the fat actor, as they too are gearing towards making an impression at the Oscars.

Let me start by saying, Charlie Kaufman is one of the few writers I don’t feel qualified to critique. Even if I don’t agree with or understand what he’s doing, I know that he’s in a screenwriting universe so far advanced from my own, that it’s probably my fault for not understanding it. That being said, I think Kaufman got a little too nuts here. There’s a moment in the script where, I believe, Francis accuses Frank of just “throwing a bunch of weird shit up on screen” and calling it “deep.” I’m not sure if this script is supposed to be taken seriously, or is one big inside joke where Kaufman decided to do just that — throw a bunch of weird shit up on screen and laugh as everyone around him called it genius.

The other day we were blasting amateur entry Manchester Black for having too many characters. In the spirit of consistency, I would have to lodge the same complaint against Frank or Francis. There are just too many people here and it’s not always clear what they have to do with the story. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell the disembodied head was doing in the script. Was that part of the movie within a movie? Was there a movie within a movie? I’m still not sure.

Nor did I think Jonathan, the Michael Bay-like director who’s trying to be taken seriously, was important enough to garner so much screen time. If a script is 150 pages long, I don’t care what your writing pedigree is, chances are you need to cut some stuff down and cut some people out. There’s no question that some of these characters could’ve been cut out and the story wouldn’t have suffered at all.

Actually, if this would’ve been slimmed down to focus mainly on Frank and Francis, I think it would have been great. There’s something eerily familiar about Francis that anybody who loves film can relate to. The angry anonymity internet commenting card has been done before, but Kaufman takes it to a whole new level, making Francis this obsessive freak who can’t survive unless he’s tearing somebody else down. Again, hearing him say things like he’d easily be able to create a masterpiece if he just had the resources that somebody like Frank had, is about as familiar a real-life claim as they come.

I actually thought Kaufman should’ve spent a lot more time on both characters’ love stories as well (instead of all these random people). The way Francis was so unaware of how his anger turned off Mimi made for an interesting dynamic. Yet they really only had one scene together. Then Frank has this interesting online relationship where he falls for one of his fans pretending to be somebody else. The problem is, it comes into the story so late that it never has time to grow.

So where does that leave us? I’m not sure. It does sort of come together in the end in a wild and unexpected Oscar finale. But as I look back on the script, I felt like I had to work too hard to get there. I had to push through too many characters and subplots that weren’t necessary to experience the good stuff. Kaufman may be a great writer, but it wouldn’t hurt to go back to the basics. Streamline your story. Only tell the parts that need to be told. Don’t fall in love with stuff that doesn’t really matter, because it’s just going to get in the way of telling your story. Frank or Francis is a mess. But at least it’s an ambitious mess. It’ll be interesting to see how it all plays out on the big screen.

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

What I learned: How do you know when you’ve gone too far? When you’ve exited the reservation? You don’t. You can’t know. You’re too close to the material. You need outside eyes to tell you that stuff. Kaufman has stated he doesn’t give his screenplays to anybody before he sends them off to his agent. That’s probably why we have a disembodied head, a few too many unneeded subplots, and a 151 page running time. You need 2-3 people you trust to tell you when you’ve gone too far, ESPECIALLY when you’re writing a comedy or trying something different. Otherwise all that genius of yours is going to be buried underneath a confusing semi-interesting movie.