Genre: Period/Drama
Premise: A look at the female perspective in one of the first ever towns in America.
About: If you don’t know Jenji Kohan by now, you don’t know cable TV. She started out by creating the largely successful Weeds for Showtime, then eclipsed the way more highly touted House of Cards to put Netflix on the television map with Orange is the New Black. Now she’s moving to HBO with her most offbeat and challenging show yet, “New World.” Jenji wrote the pilot for “New World” with brothers Bruce and Tracy Miller, who are brand new to produced television.
Writers: Bruce & Tracy Miller and Jenji Kohan
Details: 65 pages (Revised Prep Draft) 1/22/14

Jenji Kohan

I find it fascinating just how far off the beaten path these networks will go for these upcoming television series. But if you’re HBO, Netflix, or AMC, you really don’t have a choice. Everyone’s using your model now – taking risks on unique provocative material – so you’re not the cool kid on the block anymore. In order to maintain your street cred, you have to go one step further. And that, of course, means riskier fare that is even LESS likely of finding an audience.

I love Jenji Kohan. I think she’s a great voice and is one of the best female writers in television. But I’m also a little scared of her. Especially with New World. There isn’t ANYTHING like this on television right now and the reason for that is because Jenji isn’t afraid to push boundaries. At the start, New World looks to be yet another boring documentary-masquerading-as-fiction account of America’s early past. But as you keep reading and finding out how fucked up everyone in this “world” is, you realize this is pretty challenging shit.

The year is 1692. Now it’s been awhile since my 7th Grade history class but I thought that Jamestown was America’s first town. Yet here, our featured town, Salem, is presented as the first city in the U.S.

If you believe the local pastor, Salem is a town rocked by sin. The women are lustful. The men are devious, and this is putting the town at risk of imploding. The sheriff is doing everything he can to keep people in line – even putting cages over the heads of women who gossip, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

15 year old Ann is our closet thing to a protagonist. She’s the daughter of an important man, Thomas Putnam, who’s at risk of losing everything he owns. He bought some land from the richest man in town, but that man is now disputing the sale, and his influence is likely going to win him the matter in court.

Ann, not wanting to end up on the streets and realizing the power of her burgeoning sexuality, uses the soft touch of her hand on a local gentleman’s manhood to coerce him into saying he witnessed the sale of the land in order for Thomas to win the case. We realize that Ann will do anything for her father – even if that same father will take advantage of her in ways that are beyond unseemly.

Meanwhile, across the forest in another village, 17 year old Mercy Lewis is kidnapped by some local Indians and subsequently raped. Then there’s Mary Sibley, who routinely gets a group of girls together to head into the forest, get high on opium, and engage in large female orgies, using anything to make the exploits more exciting, not excluding the occasional broomstick. Then there’s Betty, the pastor’s daughter, who’s going insane to the point where she imagines everyone is a crow.

Although it isn’t entirely clear where this is all heading, you get the feeling that Salem is a town on the verge of collapse if its leaders can’t rein in its people. And if the focus on Betty is any indication, that collapse may go beyond the physical into complete and utter insanity.

So let’s recap what we’ve got here. We’ve got incest. We’ve got underage sex. We’ve got lesbian orgies. We’ve got rape. Throw in insanity and drugs and you’ve got yourself one hell of a TV party.

As cheap as the use of lurid sex may sound, it’s essential for this pilot to work. If this is just going to be another “trying to survive in old times” TV show, nobody’s going to give a shit. You have to titillate. You have to challenge. You have to push boundaries. And really, it was the uncertainty of what fucked up thing was going to happen next that kept me turning the pages here.

That’s because there’s no real plot in this pilot and I’m a little disappointed in Jenji about that. If you look at Orange is the New Black, the pilot has a great storyline to it. An upper middle-class white woman is being sent to prison for a couple of years. That story is laid out for you before you even write a word (the fear of going to prison, the arrival, the scary inmates, the unique aspect of prison life).

New World is plagued by “Billion Character Setup Syndrome.” This is when you write a billion characters into your pilot, leaving you no time to actually tell a story. All you have time to do is introduce characters. And that’s usually boring, unless you can write the best character set-up scenes ever.

Now the leeway that Jenji has is that they’re going to put this on the air no matter what. So she doesn’t have to introduce a plot in the first episode. She can take as long as she wants to set everything up. But for the average amateur writer, I would never suggest this approach. You need to tell a story in addition to setting up characters.

Why couldn’t Jenji, for example, have followed the same model she used for Orange? There’s a boat that comes over from England in this pilot. Why not introduce us to a woman on that boat – maybe she’s posh, well-to-do – and we follow her (like we follow Piper) as she’s brought into this new terrifying foreign environment? That would’ve been the perfect way to introduce Salem along with the people in it.

Luckily, the characters are interesting enough that we eventually become engaged. It took me about half the pilot – but once I got to know everyone, I found them quite interesting. And we do have things happening. A young girl is kidnapped and raped by Indians. Characters are going insane. There’s a squabble over land. I just wish there was a bigger overarching plot to it all.

I will say this for those of you wondering how to write pilots that get people’s attention. Start out by putting MORE attention on character-creation than you would a feature. Remember, these people have to be interesting enough to last 75 episodes. So if you don’t like to do character bios, I’m afraid you’re fucked. You gotta get to know these characters intricately before you write them so that when you finally do put them down on the page, they actually have depth.

If all you know about a character is their name, they will come off as generic. But if, through your character bios, you find out that they’ve been raped by their father since they were seven, I promise you they’ll have an edge on the page. And that edge only grows the more you learn about them.

Once you have your characters – FIND A NEW ANGLE to come at your subject matter with. There is nothing you can think up that hasn’t been covered before by another show or movie. BUT you can still find fresh angles to cover those subjects from. Jenji and the Millers are looking at the New World from the female perspective. That’s the fresh angle and that’s what makes this pilot stand out.

New World is a strange tantalizing experiment, exactly the kind of thing you need to write to separate yourself from the competition. We’ll see if it finds an audience. But whether it does or not, it’s something to keep an eye out for.

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

What I learned: Once you find your subject matter for your television show, FIND A UNIQUE ANGLE to explore that subject matter from. I’m not saying you can’t execute the hell out of a generic idea and make it work. It’s been done before. But you’ll more easily stand out if you can find that fresh angle.

So, I hope all of you experienced lots of sexy time this Valentine’s Day weekend. Or at least ate a lot of chocolate that fell down and partially melted on your sad protruding shirtless belly while you watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy for the 30the time. Either way, I’m sure you’re confused about this weekend’s box office.

Yes, I’m talking about 50 Shades of What The Hell Just Happened and its 81 million dollar domestic haul. Now we all knew the movie was going to do well, but 81 million dollars is the yearly GNP of Cuba. And 50 Shades of Grey means something completely different over there.

Ever since this book became a phenomenon, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I mean, there are movies I cringe at but whose success I still understand. For example, I’ve never sported round black glasses, worn a cape, and rambled off the spell, “Gizzlestorm lazzle-trousers!” yet I know why Harry Potter is a phenomenon. It’s a deeply rich and imaginative world with a very well thought out story.

I tried to read 50 Shades, got halfway through the second chapter, and thought, “This has got to be the worst writing ever.” What is the appeal here? Women are smart. Aren’t they? Why are they buying this garbage? Sure, everyone’s fascinated by sex, but if all you had to do to make 80 million dollars was throw sex into your movie, I’m pretty sure every studio in town would be doing so.

Why, for instance, did that old movie Secretary, starring Maggie Gylenhaal, and covering basically the same subject matter, make 1/40th of this movie’s opening weekend haul? Where was the ravenous female audience then?

I’m tempted to toss this into the “Who the hell knows?” pile but as screenwriters, it’s essential to pay attention to and understand the box office. You want to know what genres are doing well. You want to know what subject matter is doing well. If something bombs, you want to know why. It something becomes a hit, you want to know why.

And that’s not to say you should follow trends. I think it’s fine to follow trends at the beginning of the trend (say as a movie that everyone knows is going to do well approaches its opening weekend). But if there’s been 7 fantasy movies over the last two years, writing another one probably isn’t going to go over well. Even if you’re a Level 20 Elfen.

But I’m still curious to hear your thoughts about 50 shake-and-bakes. Is it pure wish-fulfillment? Is that all it takes to write a hit book/film? Could we do the same for men? Write a movie about a bunch of guys who bang girls with no strings attached? If someone wrote that, would it really make money? Actually, Entourage is coming out soon so we’ll see.

Moving over to a similar topic, I finally finally finally saw Boyhood this weekend. I love Richard Linklater. I like the Before Sunset movies. Slacker was a game-changer. Dazed and Confused is still a classic. But this film had gimmick written on it since it was first announced 15 years ago. Now to its credit, it was probably the most beautiful earnest gimmick in the history of gimmick cinema. But it was still a gimmick.

One of the indisputable strengths of the Hollywood film is its ability to suspend your disbelief. If you start your movie following a six year old boy, and then cut to ten years later where he’s now 16, but played by a different actor, nobody in the audience is going to say, “Oh man, those weren’t the same actors! It was so fake! They were different people! Faaaaake!” Different actors playing the parts of the same character through time is one of easiest things for an audience to buy into.

So why in the world would you film a movie over 15 years to mask something that doesn’t need masking? That people already buy into? UNLESS. Unless you want the making of the movie to be a part of the movie itself. And if you’re doing that, you’re achieving the exact opposite of what you set out to do – which is to suspend people’s disbelief. Cause now all they’re thinking about is the real life person playing the part.

Another irony is that once you take away the unique process of making of this movie, there isn’t a whole lot going on. It’s a kid growing up. And, sure, there’s a naturalism to it that you can argue draws you closer to the experience. But to me, all my fears going in were realized. This was a once-in-a-lifetime Frankenstein-esque experiment and I admire Linklater for trying something different. I just honestly think you could’ve made this exact same movie in four weeks. You wouldn’t get the same publicity you’re getting now for filming over 15 years. But the film itself would be the exact same.

Finally, some of you have written in wanting me to discuss the Oscar screenwriting nominations. The Oscars have always been an interesting topic because I’m not sure the people voting for the winner always know what they’re talking about.

What I’ve found is that, in the case of Adapted Screenplay, the nod usually goes to the script dealing with the most intense social or political issue, regardless of it’s the best script or not. So last year, 12 Years a Slave won when Philomena was a far better screenplay. But one was about slavery and the other an old woman looking for her child. The year before Argo won when, I think, Silver Linings was the better script. In 2009, Precious won when I think Up in the Air was the better screenplay.

On the original screenplay end, the Academy tends to favor scripts that are the most different, regardless of the quality of the script itself. And I think that’s because people in this industry genuinely respect anyone who’s able create something unique inside a business model designed to churn out the exact opposite. So last year, the one-sided romance “Her” won, even though I think both American Hustle and Blue Jasmine were better screenplays. Django Unchained rightfully won the year before that, as it hit that sweet spot of being both different AND the best screenplay of the pack. The year before that, Woody Allen’s weird time-travel film, Midnight in Paris, won, which was likewise a deserving spot.

This year, Birdman is favored, mainly for that same reason. Now do I think Birdman deserves to win the Oscar this year? I think by this point you all know what my feelings are about the Birdman script. I thought it was awful. And I think the only screenplay it’s better than in the nominations is Boyhood. Foxcatcher, The Grand Budapest Hotel, and Nightcrawler are all far better scripts that show real skill and understanding as far as how to write. Birdman is like a wonky fever dream and that doesn’t demonstrate skill in my eyes. But if the Academy votes the way it has been voting, it looks like Birdman will win.

With that in mind, here are the nominations for best original and adapted screenplays and my thoughts on each:

Best Original Screenplay Nominations

Birdman – Zaniness without form. Commendable for its chance-taking, but that’s the only thing it has going for it.

Boyhood – I’m not sure I’d even consider this a screenplay. It’s more like a documentary. Having said that, it’s easily the most unique writing experience of the five entries, as Linklater had to keep rewriting the script over many years to include what was going on in the world. Not sure how that will favor into voters’ minds, nor do I know if they’re even aware of this. In the end though, it’s too simple of a story to win any awards.

Foxcatcher – This has the second best character of all the entries, in Steve Carrel’s John Du Pont. It’s a very understated screenplay but a master class in below-the-surface tension. It’s not all “LOOK AT ME!” like Birdman, which is one of the reasons I liked it so much.

The Grand Budapest Hotel – It’s hard to judge Wes Anderson on his writing alone, since his directing is inexorably linked to everything he puts on the page. While I don’t think this is his best work, this is the best mythology he’s created yet.

Nightcrawler – This is the screenplay that deserves the Oscar hands down. It’s got the best character by far. It moves like lightning. The structure is perfect. The dialogue is top-notch. It doesn’t have the same buzz as Birdman because the directing is so much better in that film. But as a pure screenplay, this crushes Birdman.

Best Adapted Screenplay Nominations

American Sniper – The fact that this is even in the running for an Oscar is a joke. It’s a very boring screenplay highlighted by a fairly interesting character. I hope the Academy isn’t fooled by this film’s mega-success. As words on the page, this is very average screenwriting at best.

The Imitation Game – If the Academy knows what they’re doing, this is the script that should win. It not only has a great central character, but the way it jumped back and forth in time and made a subject matter interesting without the benefit of expanding into the larger picture of the war (at least in the script – we don’t see the war happening) – that’s real skill there.

Inherent Vice – I’ll be honest, I haven’t seen this. But I hear it’s a complete mess. We live in a world where Paul Thomas Anderson gets a screenwriting nomination whenever he makes a film so this is probably taking up the slot of a more deserving screenplay.

The Theory of Everything – I haven’t seen this either so I can’t comment on it. But let’s be honest. The only chance this had at winning is if Stephen Hawking had died before the voting started.

Whiplash – I’m happy that the Academy nominated such a small movie. I don’t love Damien Chazelle as a writer, but this script does have some good things going for it, particularly the character of drum instructor, Terence Fletcher. It goes to show that if you write one lights-out memorable character in your screenplay, your script is going to get some heat.

So which scripts weren’t included but should’ve been? I don’t think there’s any question that Gone Girl should’ve been in there. The Fault in Our Stars may have been teen fare, but it was a really good script. I don’t know about the movie, but St. Vincent was a great script. That’s one of the weird things that hamper this competition. A good script can be screwed up by a first-time director or a bad casting choice, which means a lot of the best scripts go unrecognized. And I think Chef should’ve been in there as well.

Then again, that’s what’s so fun about analyzing this stuff. Everybody has their own opinions. What do you guys think? Which scripts should win it all this year?

The bar has been set, my friends.  Yesterday we had an IMPRESSIVE amateur script.  And it’s all thanks to those of you who did the dirty work, read through each script, and voted.  So let’s find some more great material.  Here’s a new batch of scripts and a new challenge.  Will Johnny Boogers prevail?  Or will one of the other four take the top slot?

Title: Progress
Genre: Historical drama
Logline: Romance, rivals and incompetence take center stage in this mostly-true story about the madcap turmoil surrounding the White House on the eve of World War I.
Why you should read: I am a high school teacher who told my students to follow their dreams–only to have a particular smart-ass throw it back at me and say, “Why don’t YOU follow YOUR dreams?” I am a regular reader of ScriptShadow, but I’ve never submitted anything. Without the eyes and minds of others, I fear my ability is plateauing.

So here I am, still trying to improve my craft, submitting a script unlike any other and taking one step closer to my dream of being a professional storyteller.

Damn teenagers.

Title: The Pitch
Genre: Comedy
Logline: Three advertising gurus compete for a lucrative contract to sell L’Oreal tampons during the Super bowl.
Why you should read: This is an edgy high concept grounded comedy with creative risk attached. You will certainly not get bored. As an amateur, I have tried to learn and absorb everything in a condensed six year period. And now it’s time to throw that all away and just let those creative juices flow…..Who says you can’t sell tampons during the Super bowl?? The topic is taboo, the campaign controversial and the plan is brilliant. I really hope you enjoy the read and you feel the passion in every word. For what it’s worth, if you decide to review it, I would be more than happy to buy you a beer. Thanks for the consideration.

Title: Rigged
Genre: Contained/Action
Logline: Working overtime at the Freedom Tower on Super Bowl Sunday, a stressed out family man’s day becomes a cat-and-mouse fight for survival when he stumbles on a homegrown terrorist’s plot to blow up the building then goes from bad to worse when he discovers the only way down is in a perilous swaying window washing rig.
Why you should read: Trying to write a script set almost entirely in a high-rise window washing rig and keep it entertaining throughout at first thought may appear extremely difficult, yet by the end we had to edit some of the action out.
The lead character is no tough guy action man either and the antagonist purposely doesn’t have any dialogue. Always go big, so the continual height and precarious situation being the main fear factor played on along with endless calamitous events which befall the lead, keep the script fitting the Goals, Stakes, Urgency rule and the midpoint shift.
We, my brother and I write apart, post work and family and really hope you enjoy Rigged and look forward to your informed comments which will undoubtedly prove invaluable.

Title: Bugged Out
Genre: Dark Comedy – Sort of…maybe…well, not sure
Logline: As society collapses all around them, a hen-pecked doomsday prepper reaches deep inside himself to do whatever he needs in order to lead his reluctant family to the safety of their bug out location.
Why you should read: This is my second script, with my first, Ship of the Dead, pulled through the knothole that is Scriptshadow just over a year ago. Thanks to your reviews, Ship did fairly well in contests and festivals: winning its genre at the Toronto International Film Festival, taking second at Denver’s Mile High Film Festival, and was a Top Ten Finalist in the 2013 PAGE International Screenwriting Awards, among others. I’m hoping for constructive criticism, if for no other reason than to hone my craft. This stuff’s hard! And thanks!

Title: Johnny Boogers
Genre: Supernatural Dramedy
Logline: When a delusional drunk retires to the Mexican Border to be left alone, dead desert barflies, a video-game gunslinger and the local drug lord just won’t leave him be.
Why you should read: Everything I’ve written to date has placed at either Nicholl or Austin. This latest effort, I believe, is my best so far, but I write full-time next to the Santa Susanna Nuke plant out in West Hills/Simi Valley. JOHNNY BOOGERS is pretty out there. The percolates, PCE contamination and plutonium migration might be clouding my judgment — I could use some honest opinions, and a new place to live. I would gladly settle for the former.

Get Your Script Reviewed On Scriptshadow!: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, along with the title, genre, logline, and finally, something interesting about yourself and/or your script that you’d like us to post along with the script if reviewed. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Remember that your script will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effects of a bad review, feel free to use an alias name and/or title. It’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.

Genre: Martial Arts/Asian Epic
Premise (from writer): A rebellious-minded woman in ancient China seeks the help of Shaolin to save her village from a love-obsessed General and his bloodthirsty Captain.
Why You Should Read (from writer): I’m a 44 year-old soccer mom who secretly loves kung fu. There are a lot of us out there – sneaking into Man of Tai Chi after the lights go down; snagging a $5 copy of Ip Man at 2nd & Charles so the Netflix queue stays “clean.” Every day we chauffeur, tend, cook, coordinate and cajole while desperately longing to settle things with a swift scorpion kick.

“Wars of Eternal Spring” took shape after the perfect storm of a “fu-binge,” Robert Downey, Jr. interview and spur-of-the-moment Google on “Wing Chun style.” Not long afterwards I read that Keanu Reeves was looking for his “next story” to direct. Filling needs is practically my raison d’etre these days, so the off-hand words of a man I’m never likely to meet were more than enough to fuel a feeble flame and get writing.

I gave myself a year. I even told my therapist. In between writing bouts I read screenplays and books on creative processes, story structure and character development. I searched high and low for a critique group. All the while I worked, re-worked and started to get a sense of how much time, realistically, writing anything worthwhile takes.

I believe that the biggest room in the world is the room for improvement. Your professional, experienced review would go a long way toward helping me do that. Thanks in advance for your consideration.
Writer: Elizabeth Barilleaux
Details: 100 pages

So when Wars of Eternal Spring won the Amateur Offerings, I’m not going to lie in being a little suspicious of the voters’ motives. A soccer mom who loves kung-fu may very well be every male screenwriter’s fantasy. I actually think it would be hilarious if Elizabeth was a guy and made this persona up just to stand out a bit more. And you know what? If that were the case, I’d say “well done.” In this business, you gotta use every little trick in your bag to get noticed.

But when the script hits Amateur Friday, it doesn’t matter if you’re a pimple-faced geek who plays the accordion or a European runway model. I’m judging the script on the content. I will say this though. It’s pretty cool to read a genre that’s never been reviewed before on Scriptshadow. Let’s see what happens!

Poor Wing Chun. She’s one of the few women in ancient China who’s been taught martial arts. And while that may make a woman hot stuff today, it made them the definition of unattractive back then. In fact, after taking down a thief for stealing apples from a fruit vendor, even the fruit vendor tells Wing Chun to screw off. You’re welcome very much!

Wing Chun’s life changes when an army from the Qing Dynasty moves into her village to sniff out possible Ming hiding nearby. The army is led by the handsome General Jin, who’s immediately taken by the unorthodox Wing Chun. His second in command, however, Ganbaatar, is a little less welcoming, and is convinced that Wing Chun’s fighting skills are a result of her working with the Ming.

Ganbaatar’s wrath becomes so intense that Wing Chun is forced to flee into the mountains, where she searches out the Shaolin Temple, a place where she’s wanted to train all her life – despite knowing they would never train a woman. When she gets there, however, she finds that the Shaolin Temple has been destroyed by the Qing.

Luckily, she meets an old hermit who used to be a Shaolin, and after some initial resistance, the hermit decides to train her. In the meantime, Ganbaatar is running roughshod all over the village, and the villagers, as well as Wing Chun’s family, find themselves in danger. Wing Chun and the hermit (who may not be who he appears to be) will need to come back to the village to save the day – a task as ridiculous as it is impossible.

Let me preface this by saying I’m not really into these kinds of movies. I like kung-fu when Neo’s doing it. But wire-fu in Ancient China ain’t my cup of tea. However, if you’ve been paying attention to Scriptshadow for awhile now, you know that the fighting and the chases and the action are just the icing on the cake. The CAKE is the characters. If you can make us fall in love with your characters, it doesn’t really matter what they’re doing. They could be washing windows, breakdancing, spelunking, or fighting in Ancient China. We’re going to care.

These characters – and really this entire script – is written with such skill, I’m shocked Elizabeth isn’t already represented. Our main character, Wing Chun, isn’t just a great character. She could be an iconic character if this movie is ever made. Elizabeth captures the travesty of being a unique woman at a time when individuality wasn’t accepted from that set of chromosomes. Wing Chun’s underdog story rivals that of William Wallace in Braveheart and Maximus in Gladiator. And hell, Neo too! You can’t help but root for the girl.

And all the characters here feel authentic. They all have fears and flaws and pasts, and in a way that doesn’t dominate the story. A lot of times I’ll see writers give their secondary characters big fat backstories, halting the script in the process, resulting in boredom. Elizabeth is able to paint every single character with depth, but never in a way that slows the story down. This script is only 100 pages, yet it feels like this vast epic. It’s really impressive.

Take General Jin for instance. He’s this lonely man who dreams of a softer life than the one the military provides. The occupation of this village for him has nothing to do with searching out the Ming. He uses it as an excuse to settle down – to live the peaceful life he’s always wanted. At the other extreme is Ganbaatar, who’s lived this reckless violent life, and who doesn’t trust a soul. It’s rare that a straightforward villain doesn’t feel “on-the-nose,” but Elizabeth manages to make Ganbaatar both evil and real – a rare feat.

I loved some of the twists and turns in the story as well (spoilers). The monk secretly being Ng Mui came out of nowhere – and it was one of those pleasant surprises that most writers tend to force. Because this script was so beautifully written though, it was like, “Of course she was pretending to be the hermit! It makes perfect sense!”

I loved how Elizabeth plucked little ideas out of the fairytale universe as well, such as the evil stepmother, who was great. And it was fun to see her use The Hero’s Journey in a way where you knew she was using it, yet it never forced itself upon the story. So many writers use a structure (basic 3 act structure, sequencing, Blake Snyder beat sheet, Hero’s Journey) and force it on the story. It takes a real pro to use a structure as a guide, but have that structure be invisible in the final product.

But I think the thing that most impressed me was the overall quality of the writing. Usually you have a writer who’s good at one or two things and then bad at a few others. Here we had someone who understood the history of this world, who understood the depths of this genre, who knew how to write powerful and memorable characters, who nailed the dialogue (not easy in a period piece), who nailed the structure.

And on top of all that, it was just a good story. I liked how, even though the first 50 pages were stuck in the village, Elizabeth kept the tension high with conflict. If you’re going to be in one location, you need to include a ton of conflict between the characters. So we have Ganbaatar who doesn’t trust Wing Chun. We have General Jin who falls for Wing Chun. We have the villagers who don’t want their village occupied anymore. There’s just a general discontent everywhere, so we’re not even aware that the story isn’t technically moving yet.

And then, Elizabeth wisely moves to a more traditional tale in the second half of the story, where we have a big goal – find the Shaolin Temple and train. And, of course, like we were just talking about a few days ago, Elizabeth throws a shitload of obstacles in the way. The Qing catch up to Wing Chun in the mountains. The Shaolin Temple has been burned down once she gets there. It was just a really compelling story led by a really compelling main character.

The only issues I had were minor ones. From what I understood, Young Li was Wing Chun’s real brother and Fan was her step-sister. So Young Li wanted to marry Fan? So he’s marrying his step-sister? Was that something that was legal or kosher back then? Cause it seemed a little incestuous to me. Also, there were a few scenes where it seemed like Young Li wanted to marry Wing Chun. You were just a little too vague and it led to confusion.

Also, I was frustrated at first about all the sides. I didn’t understand who the Qing was, who the Ming was, and how the Shaolin fit into it all. So when, for instance, Ganbaatar would get angry at anyone who sided with the Shaolin, I didn’t know what that meant, since I thought the Shaolin were neutral. I know a quick title card explaining these things at the beginning of the screenplay might invade on the “purity” of the story. But it’s something that could help people not steeped in Chinese lore.

Finally, we just need to break up a few of these chunky paragraphs (anything over 4 lines), particularly in the last act, when the reader’s eyes should be moving more quickly down the page.

But yeah, this is high-class writing here. We don’t see this much on Amateur Friday. I have to give it to Elizabeth. She’s set a high bar for all future Amateur Offerings this year. Great job!

Script link: Wars of Eternal Spring

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

What I learned: Honestly, I think my biggest takeaway from this script is the power of writing about something you’re passionate and knowledgeable about. Nothing comes through more than when you love your subject matter. You’re always going to go that extra mile to get it right. Had someone who was only a casual fan of Ancient Martial Arts movies written this, there’s no way it would’ve come even close to Elizabeth’s script. So keep that in mind when you’re coming up with your next screenplay.

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Let me ask you a question. Have you ever watched a movie or read a script and afterwards you thought… “That was decent. It was well done.” But it left you with absolutely no feelings whatsoever? It didn’t move you. It didn’t make you think. This is the majority of Hollywood movies out there, and it happens because Hollywood has created a middle-of-the-road formula that they’re afraid to deviate from. It leads us to one of the most primal truths about the business.

Hollywood knows how to make a movie that feels like a movie.

But they struggle to put together a movie that makes you feel.

And the reason that’s important is because you can’t make a great movie unless you make the audience feel something. So how do you make an audience feel? Probably the best way is to create strong relatable characters who go through a powerful transformation over the course of the story. Their transformation often feels like our transformation, which gives us that supercharged kick when leaving the theater – that lasting feeling that’s going to inspire us to tell our friends about the film.

Here’s the problem though. A lot of the transformations characters go through in movies are similar. You have the selfish hero who becomes selfless. You have the cowardly hero who becomes brave. So even when you do a good job with your characters, you still run the risk of your script feeling similar to all the other scripts out there.

And this is where today’s observation comes in. It actually occurred when I stumbled upon a cable-showing of “Castaway.”  You know, the Tom Hanks movie where the guy is stuck on the island. In that movie, the second leading character…….. is a volleyball. Now I want you to think about that for a second. This is not an animated film. It’s not a comedy. This is a straightforward drama. And one of the characters is a volleyball.

How many ways could they have fucked this up? Talk about taking a risk. This choice could’ve fallen flat on its face. There’s actually a scene in the movie where Tom Hanks is CRYING because Wilson the Volleyball is floating away in the ocean and he can’t save him.

That got me thinking about other great screenplays/movies. And I began to notice a trend. They all TOOK BIG CHANCES. Because see, here’s the thing. I can teach you how to structure a story. I can teach you how to build a character with flaws. But unless you take chances in your story, your script will never truly catch anyone’s attention. You need to do something different, something that you’re not typically supposed to do. And the bigger the chance you take, the bigger the reward will be.

Want proof? What’s the biggest movie of all time? It’s probably Star Wars. That movie takes the biggest chance of any movie I’ve ever seen in my life. It creates a goofy religion where people can die, turn into ghosts, and guide others, inside a FANTASY SPACE EPIC, a genre that’s already got a million crazy things going on in it. And what happened? That religion, “The Force,” became a part of the lexicon. Every single person in the world knows what you’re talking about when you bring up “the force.”

Here’s the scary thing though. Taking chances means a much higher chance of failure. And the bigger the chance you take, the more embarrassing the failure can be. Our friend George Lucas has seen this play out on the opposite end of the spectrum. Jar-Jar Binks. I give it to Lucas for going balls out and taking a chance with this character. Chastise him all you want, but this was a HUGE roll of the dice. Why, then, didn’t it pay off like the Force? Why was it such a disaster?

The question becomes, can you quantify chance-taking? Is there a way to do it that allows you a better chance at success than failure? Or is it, by its very nature, a crapshoot? The whole idea behind taking a chance is that you have no idea what the outcome will be.

Well, when I started looking at the chances that have paid off in films, I did start to notice a trend. The chances that tend to pay off the biggest are the ones that anchor directly into your hero’s development. Let’s go right back to the Force, the biggest chance ever taken in a movie. Why did it work? Well, I’m not going to pretend that there was only one reason. But it’s not a coincidence that the bulk of the Force was tied directly to Luke Skywalker’s development. He needed to believe in himself, which was represented by him believing in the Force.

We can see this with The Matrix too. What’s one of the biggest chances The Matrix took? Its characters only fought with kung-fu. Now I want you to think about that for a second. Sentient agents in a machine decided to fight with humans via kung-fu. Why?? Who the fuck knows? It makes no sense. That’s why it was such a risk. BUT it totally worked. And a big reason for that was that kung-fu was tied directly into Neo’s development as a character. That early scene with Morpheus teaching him how to fight? It’s not really about kung-fu. It’s about Neo believing in himself.

One of my favorite movies, Field of Dreams, does the same thing. There are some weird freaking chances they take in that screenplay. Cornfields talk to characters. A guy builds a baseball field on his farm. We go back in time. There are baseball-playing ghosts that, for some reason, only half the people can see. But it works because it’s tied directly into Ray Kinsella’s development. We know that these crazy chances being taken are going to end up in Ray finally figuring out what’s missing in his life.

The second level of chance-taking can be boiled down to emotional rooting. If you’re going to take a chance, look for one that has an emotional connection to the story. And you may notice a pattern here. If we’re attached to and rooting for a character, then anything you tie to that character, no matter how absurd, we have a better chance of buying into. So in the case of Wilson the Volleyball, that was Tom Hanks’ only outlet to avoid loneliness – was creating this companion. Wilson became his best friend during a time when he desperately needed someone. So no shit we’re crying when he floats off in the ocean. We’re emotionally invested in the bond these two developed while he was on the island. If Tom Hanks decides to masturbate every morning on the top of a coconut tree, sure that’s taking a chance, but it’s not rooted in any emotion, so it feels random and “off.”

The third level of chances is where we start to get more superficial. I think these are the most dangerous chances to take because they’re based almost solely on feel. Look at Guardians of the Galaxy. In that movie, you have a wise-talking machine-gun-wielding raccoon as one of the main characters. Oh, and let’s not forget that another one of the characters is a tree. Those are really weird and out there chances. But I will say this about these types of chances – they work best if they stick with the tone of the movie. Guardians was a wild wacky funny ride, so we’re more likely to believe in a talking fox here than had you written an intense drama, or a supernatural flick.

The last level of chances comes down to structure – how you physically decide to tell your story. Are you going to tell it like Pulp Fiction? Where the story is told randomly out of a order? Are you going to tell it like Richard Linklater’s “Slacker,” where we move from one character to the next, never to see the previous characters again? These choices have some of the farthest-reaching implications since they affect the entire read (where as a character like Wilson is only involved in part of the story). But I will say that if you take a chance with your structure and COMMIT to it, people will usually go along with it. For example, Pulp Fiction wouldn’t have worked if the first half of the movie was a straight narrative and the second half an out-of-order one. That chance would’ve been too jumbled and inconsistent for people to buy into.

And still, even if you follow all these guidelines, there’s still no guarantee that your chance is going to pay off. That’s why it’s considered taking a chance. For example, I just reviewed Sorkin’s “Steve Jobs” biopic in my newsletter (Are you not on my newsletter? Why not??) and he establishes a very risky structure, just like Pulp Fiction or Slacker did, but it proved boring. It just didn’t keep the script moving fast enough. And that’s one of the tough things about taking chances. Is its not just taking the chance. It’s how that chance fits in with all the other variables of your screenplay. If the other variables aren’t good, then probably no chance you’re going to take will matter.

But I will say this. It seems to me like the chances that best pay off are the ones that are rooted in the emotion or the concept of the screenplay. As long as your chances are anchored in one of those two areas, you’re usually good. Look at “Her” for example. That’s a movie where one half of the featured romantic couple is never seen. In the entire movie! That’s a huge chance right there. But it made sense because that was the concept. A guy falls in love with his new operating system. It was pretty much the only way they could go.

I’m curious to hear what you guys have to say on this topic. What do you think constitutes a good risk or a good chance? Share your thoughts in the comments. I’ll start looking for the best comment to feature in the next newsletter!