Jared is all about Mish-Mashing!
This whole month has been nuts, giving me very little time to get 5 posts a week up. Monday has been suffering, which I apologize for. But it may stay that way for the next few weeks so bear with me.
So what’s been going on in the world? Well, this past weekend was the worst box office frame of the year, ending an even worse summer. We’re down 20% in receipts from last year. Less and less people are going to see movies, and if they don’t figure out why and stop it, something bad is going to happen.
I recently watched the Jared Leto documentary, Artifact, about how his band sold 5 million albums, only to come home from their tour and be told by their label that they (the band) owed them (the label) 2 million dollars. The band tells them to eff off. The label then sues them for 30 million dollars. The documentary is about Jared and his group debating whether to release their next album independently in the midst of this lawsuit.
The doc is good, but it was a section near the middle that really got me. It covered the downfall of the music industry over the last couple of decades. Basically, everything was changing around the music business (most prominently, the move from physical to digital) and the people working at the music lables were too dumb to realize it in time. They watched as the entire world changed around them before doing anything, and by the time they did, it was too late. A company that previously knew nothing about music, was now taking all their money (iTunes). The labels now make half as much money as they did 15 years ago.
I often wonder – is the same thing happening to the movie industry? Like the music business, are we too slow to recognize the effects of the changes happening around us? Long-form media (television) with movie-like production value has pulled more and more writers away from the movie business, and now it’s pulling the talent too.
Indie movies are simultaneously debuting in both theaters and on Itunes, slowly moving towards a world where the indie producer skips the traditional distribution method and looks for ways to go straight to Itunes without having to pay a hefty cut to a third party.
Kickstarter is allowing filmmakers even more independence. If you’re a smart young director, you shoot a bunch of shorts, post them on Youtube, gain a following, get better, so that by the time your Kickstarter campaign begins for your feature, you have a kick-ass reel to show to inspire confidence from your investors. Ditto if you’re a writer. Learn how to direct and do the same.
I’m not saying the movie industry is screwed or anything. The international grosses are too big. But it doesn’t feel like the people in charge are moving fast enough to adapt, and they look out of touch in the process. The last time the movie business did something that actually made me want to go to the theater was adding the stadium seats. And that was 15 years ago. Itunes and Netflix intermittently come up with ways to make me want to use their services every month. They’re really staying on their toes – almost like they enjoy being cutting edge. I don’t get the sense that the studios are doing this at all.
The one thing the movie industry CANNOT do anymore is raise prices. When movies were under 10 bucks, I didn’t blink about seeing the latest movie each weekend. I’d even watch Step-Up 3 if it was the only thing playing. Why not? I love film and I don’t care how I’m entertained, as long as you entertain me. Now that I’m paying 18 dollars a film, I always calculate whether going to the theater is worth it. And many times the answer is no. In other words, there didn’t use to be a barrier to entry. Movies were priced in a way where you didn’t think twice about going. Now there’s a barrier, and you can’t put up a barrier at the very moment your business is losing 10% each year.
What’s the answer? I honestly don’t think it’s difficult. People crave something new. They think they want Spider-Man 2. But what they really want is a dancing tree. Until you show them the dancing tree, though, they’re never going to know they wanted it. Look, studios will always need their Transformers and their Fast and Furiouses. I get that. But each studio needs to set aside a division for taking risks, for trying out new things. Call it R&D. It’s the reason why Apple became the biggest company in the world. They knew if they didn’t allocate a bunch of money to trying out weird and new ideas, that they’d never grow, that people would eventually get bored of their products. I want to see some products that come out of the movie studios’ R&D divisions, not the cookie-cutter Teenage Mutant Ninja Electro Boogaloo nonsense I saw this summer. A decline of 20% in a year is your consumer telling you you need to work harder.
Speaking of R&D (if R&D stood for “really depressing”), I finally saw Draft Day last week. Now some of you might remember that Draft Day was the number 1 screenplay on the Black List a couple of years ago, a story that seemingly came out of nowhere (a sports script topping the Black List??? Unheard of!). I thought the script was worth the hype. It was a different kind of sports movie. It had urgency. It had mystery. No cliche last second touchdown. Really lived up to the hype in my opinion.
Now a lot of people ask me how a good script gets turned into a bad movie. Well, this would be how. Three crucial mistakes were made that doomed this great screenplay. First, the edgy gritty script (about football in Cleveland – one of the dirtiest grungiest cities in America) was given a romantic comedy color-popping scheme for reasons beyond logic. If you’re looking to grab your core audience, the football fan, you probably don’t want to shoot your movie to look like Dolphin Tale 2.
Second, Kevin Costner played the role all wrong. Like wrong wrong wrong. In the script, our hero was a guy who knew his job was on the line, who was desperate to do anything to help his team win. He had fire, he had energy. And you could SMELL the pressure on him in every scene. It was exciting watching this guy scramble for his life while pretending to have it together on the outside.
Costner, however, played the part like a sad disinterested IRS agent. Whenever he was approached by any character, he looked like he was going to shake his head, say “I give up,” then go take a nap. He sucked away every ounce of energy this character had with his performance. I felt horrible for the writers.
But the most critical mistake was a directing one. For those who haven’t seen the movie or read the script, a lot of it takes place over phone calls. Costner’s character is a general manager on Draft Day, and he’s calling everyone all over the country to figure out who he’s going to pick. Every 3rd scene was a phone scene. These intense mano-a-mano scenes, in many ways, defined the energy of the story.
So it was baffling when director Ivan Reitman decided to create split screens for all of the calls. But it wasn’t just that. It was that CLEARLY none of the actors were actually talking to each other during the shoot. For example, P. Diddy would shoot his half of a phone conversation and then two months later, Costner, talking to a stand-in, recorded his half of the conversation.
Because the actors weren’t actually talking to each other and because Reitman insisted on using split-screens (which meant no cutaways), there were these giant gaping moments of silence after each actor’s line. Costner: “I want to go with Bryant as our quarterback!” 1 Mississippi . 2 Mississippi. 3 Mississippi. Diddy: “Fuck you. He’s not good enough!” Imagine an entire day of conversations with people where, after you said your line, they waited three seconds before responding. That was every phone call in Draft Day.
And the funny thing is, I know what Reitman was thinking. He thought he’d use the split-screen to infuse energy into the calls – having both the actors right there on screen together battling it out. Ironically, it had the opposite effect. It locked him into a situation where he couldn’t cut for timing, and the dialogue just died on the screen as a result. It’s scary how easy it is to screw up a good script. I mean you know Costner, notorious for being a hands-on actor, lobbied to play this character as a slow tired broken down General Manager, despite it being completely wrong for the story. And what can you say when your lead actor tells you that’s how he’s going to play it? “No?” He’s just going to do it anyway. A great script down the tubes based on one bad decision made by an actor.
Luckily, I’m going to leave you with something that’ll blow your little screenwriting mind and make you forget all about the Costner! It’s the best article about suspense I’ve ever read, and the author, Lee Child (author of the Jack Reacher books) gives one of the best analogies about a writing tool I’ve ever read. Any attempt to summarize it would cheapen the article, so I’m going to let you read it yourselves.
And finally, thanks to everyone who contributed to this weekend’s Pitch Post. It was fun to see some of your pitches get so much love from the community. Did anyone tally the best five so we have some surefire amateur scripts to review? I tried to go in there a few times and count myself but got lost in the 900 posts!
Hey guys. No Amateur Offerings this week because in two weeks, we’re doing an all dialogue week, including on Amateur Friday’s slot. However, I know a bunch of you are frustrated that your script still hasn’t appeared on Offerings. Well, now’s the time to pitch it. Pitch us your genre, title, logline and ‘why we should read’ right here in the comments, and the always awesome Scriptshadow Community will check them out. Scriptshadow Community – This means you get to play Executive today. Pretend these queries are being sent to you. Would you read them? Are any good enough that you’ve actually taken the time to download the script and open it? If so, let the reader know. If not, tell the reader why.
Genre (from writer): Satirical Dark Comedy
Premise (from writer): When his girlfriend becomes an overnight movie star, a lady shoes salesman must now become famous or he risks turning into the next Kevin Federline.
Why You Should Read: Everyone nowadays dreams of becoming famous. You hit upload, wait around like a child on Christmas Eve, only for someone to eventually gift you a “like” on social media. Our melting pot is currently overflowing with fame whores who move to Hollywood, begging her to make their dreams come true. — As a fame whore myself, let me tell you… life is tough, life in Hollywood is impossible. — Imagine being one of the few in Hollywood who’s not a fame whore. You finally meet the only “great girl” in town, and then somehow you get her to fall for you. Sounds like a perfect Hollywood ending, right? But the only things in Hollywood that have Hollywood endings are Hollywood movies. — Your “great girl” lands the lead in the biggest movie in the world, becoming the next Jennifer Lawrence overnight. You sell ladies shoes. The “great girl” thinks that’s fine, and loves you for you… but the world thinks that makes you a loser, the next Kevin Federline. — Your name is Ernest Pope, and #TRENDING is your story. It’s a satirical dark R-rated comedy.
Writer: James L. Leary
Details: 109 pages
My initial impression of #trending was, “Catchy title.” It’s something that can be overlooked in the process, the title. But when everything else is equal and your script is on the table with several others, it may well be the catchy title that gets your script read.
Here, the “#” sign gives the title an untraditional but intriguing look, and “trending,” ironically, is a trendy word on the internet, so it’s no surprise that it grabbed more attention on Amateur Offerings than generic titles like, “Watching Over Remie” and “Treasure of Fate.” And I’m not saying anything about the quality of those scripts. I’m just saying “#trending” stands out as a title.
Now before I read the script, I have to admit I did a little pre-judging. Readers always do, despite the best of intentions. This was called #trending, implying some light fun faire, yet when I opened the script, I saw 110 pages. Ugh. That long? Really? This feels much closer to a 100 page idea. So I’m already on the writer’s case, even before I’ve read a word. If I see anything here that feels like it’s dragging, I’m going to be thinking, “Yup, I knew it. I knew the script was too long.” I don’t say this bitterly. I just want writers to know what’s going on in a reader’s head when they pick up a script so they can avoid making the same mistake. With that said, I hope I’m wrong, and that #trending is #trending tomorrow on Twitter, which would be so meta.
24 year old woman’s shoe salesman Ernest Pope is a lucky man. He happens to have found love with Molly Taylor, an out-of-his-league aspiring actress who’s doing a lot more aspiring than acting. How Ernest landed Molly is anyone’s guess, but it’s clear she loves him more than anything. For now, that is.
While dining at a Chinese food dump, the couple are bombarded by the paparazzi, who start snapping Molly’s photo and yelling her name. After narrowly escaping photographic death, the two learn that Molly’s landed the role of a lifetime, in a new novel adaptation called “Dawn,” where she’ll co-star with meaty heartthrob Channing Tatum.
I think we know where this is going. Cut to the premiere 9 months later and while Molly and Ernest are still together, he’s getting increasingly insecure. Rumors of an on-set romance between Molly and Channing are everywhere. And the public loves it. They’d much rather celebrate a Molly-Channing coupling than anything to do with this Ernest loser. I mean, the guy has a mustache!
Eventually, the two drift apart, and Ernest’s best friend, Juan Camacho, convinces Ernest that the only way to get Molly back is to become famous too. The quickest route to fame, of course, is to become an actor. With a little luck, Ernest gets a small part in a movie, and when the director’s a dick on-set, he pulls a Christian Bale and goes nuts.
The rant goes viral and, what do you know! Ernest is famous! Well, famous in that cheap internet sort of way. But everyone knows who he is now. This gives him the confidence to rekindle his romance with Molly, but Molly can see that Ernest has turned into a fame whore and leaves him. Ernest uses his fleeting fame to bang a lot of girls, but (major spoiler) he eventually is killed by fucking too much. The End.
#trending started out great. Every character introduced popped off the page. There were these weird asides (a male Sexy Santa contest) that had nothing to do with anything but were still hilarious. I loved James’s portrayal and deep-seated hatred of hipsters (drinking coconut water and standing by their vespas). And there’s this great “doggy bag moment” where we learn all about the thirty mile zone (the acronym for TMZ), which was fascinating. I said to myself, if he can keep this up, we have ourselves a winner.
But as is so often the case with amateur work, it didn’t keep up. The first time I blinked was Molly’s instant-fame moment. People find her at the Chinese restaurant because TMZ tweeted out she just won the Dawn role. But I didn’t know she was even up for the role. Come to think of it, I didn’t see her go up for any roles. I’d forgotten she was an actress. So this came out of nowhere, giving the scene that awkward “did I miss something” feel to it.
From there we make a nine month time jump. You guys know how I feel about huge time jumps in the middle of screenplays. I understand why James did it – he wanted to get to the Dawn premiere, where the fame would be at its highest. But coming on the heels of the sloppy Dawn role reveal, it felt like double sloppy joes to me.
From there on, the script had major structural issues. Molly sort of breaks up with Ernest, although it’s unclear if that’s what really happened or not, leaving the narrative in a confused purgatoric state. I mean if it was a break-up, we know he must get her back. If not, we know he’s got to keep her around. But if it’s neither, we don’t know what he’s supposed to do.
From there, Juan Comacho comes up with this idea that Ernest needs to become a movie star to get Molly back. That’s where the script officially lost me. Not only was I unsure if he and Molly were actually broken up, but now he and his friend are just making up rules for how this is going to work. When there’s no evidence that Molly even cares whether Ernest becomes famous or not, creating an entire section where Ernest pursues fame is strange. There’s zero stakes attached to that choice.
This is what structure is. It’s creating strong goals with high stakes, so that whatever portion of the script we’re in, something important is happening. Your hero is going after something and there are major consequences to not getting that something. When the importance of those goals becomes muddled – if we’re not even sure that what our characters are doing matters – the script is dead.
If I were James, I’d stick with the opening, which is good. Just make sure we know Molly’s an actress trying out for big roles. Then, once Molly gets famous, I wouldn’t jump forward 9 months. You can create everything you got from the 9 month jump right here in the present. If you want Channing Tatum in the mix , maybe he wants to meet Molly so they can start “going over their lines.” This results in paparazzi photos of the two together a lot, which starts screwing with Ernest and Molly’s relationship. I actually think it’s funnier if you show all these Dawn fans going crazy NOW instead of once the movie premieres. It shows how freaking crazy they are (“Who are these people?? The movie hasn’t even shot yet!”).
From there, you follow the traditional formula that’s worked for a hundred years. Molly leaves him and he has to get her back. I don’t think the becoming an actor thing works. It appears out of nowhere (he had no acting ambitions prior to this) and therefore feels lazy (“made up on the spot” syndrome). It might be funnier if he tries to become an internet star. That’s such a crazy world and it hasn’t been fully explored in movies yet, giving you the opportunity to really do something original. If he tried to figure out the top 10 most famous internet people and replicate their success (he tries auto-tuning himself, kitten videos, saving a kidnapped woman from a home, a la Charles Ramsey), there could be something there.
I’m just spit-balling. You’ll want to come up with your own solution to this. Because the truth is, James, you’re a funny guy. Your first 20 pages had me lol’ing a ton. You just have to build a stronger narrative into the second and third acts. I wish you luck, my friend. Thanks for letting me and the rest of the world trend with you for a couple of hours.
Script link: #trending
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I want writers to know that when they submit a weird combination of words for their script’s genre, I immediately know it’s an amateur. It’s a huge red flag. The accepted genres are: comedy, period, fantasy, sci-fi, action, thriller, drama, biopic, sports, romantic comedy, black comedy (or ‘dark comedy’) and then there are some accepted derivations. Buddy comedy, action-thriller, science-fiction horror. What you don’t want to do is start using strange combinations of these words and then adding your own twist to them. “Satirical Dark Comedy” should just be “Dark Comedy.” Likewise, you shouldn’t submit things like, “Elevated Science Fiction” or “Coming-of-Age Dramedy.” Even if your script doesn’t fit perfectly within one of these genre tags, it’s better to use that tag than create your own.
note: For Thursday’s article, “Matt and Ben Are Bad People,” scroll down.
Yesterday’s dialogue experiment was such a success, I want to do an entire week of them. Your dialogue scenes versus the pros. Here’s how it’s going to work. Send your dialogue scene to carsonreeves3@gmail.com with the subject line “ME VS. PRO.” It needs to be 3 pages or less. Set the scene up briefly. Who the key characters are, what happened before the scene, and any important plot information we need to understand the scene. I’ll pick five of these scenes and find pro scene counterparts for us to compare to. I may do this next week or the week after, so get your scenes in quick!
Matt Damon and Ben Affleck came onto the scene in a unique way. They weren’t the typical “new kid on the block” pretty-boy actors when their surprise hit, Good Will Hunting, took Hollywood by storm. They also WROTE their script. And they didn’t just write it. They LABORED over it. For years. And in the end, all that laboring paid off as they won a screenwriting Oscar and became perennial movie stars in the film industry.
A few years later, they wanted to give back to the screenwriting community. So they developed a cutting edge project called Project Greenlight, which would try to find the next great script and make a film out of it. I remember this time well. It was the first time screenplays were submitted solely through the internet, which was a big deal. It felt like screenwriting was entering a new phase of its existence, the ‘digital’ realm. And it was symbolic. The contest was saying, “The old rules of Hollywood are dead.”
Not everything went smoothly though. Their reading process was controversial (writers submitting to the contest would also become the contest’s readers) but the contest blew up anyway. For the first time in screenwriting contest history, instead of winners getting a chunk of money and a pat on the back, Project Greenlight gave you direct access to two of the hottest names in Hollywood. Who were going to make your movie! It genuinely felt like you could become an overnight star. Which, as you know, is as rare in the screenwriting community as a genius Scriptshadow rating.
But the really cool thing? Was that these guys CARED about screenwriting. They had screenwriting’s back. What a lot of people forget is that the reason Matt and Ben started this whole contest was to prove that the Hollywood system was broke. They wanted to show that all these glossy pieces of crap Hollywood was pushing on audiences couldn’t compete with an honest-to-goodness great screenplay, something they were prepared to scour the world for.
Unfortunately, Project Greenlight didn’t go as planned. It did not result in any successful, or even particularly good, movies. Why that happened is up for debate. Was it smart to make the winning writer also a first-time director in the first season? Did the movies ever have a chance with such tiny budgets? Is it wise to make a movie about kids (11 years old in the first movie, 15 years old in the second), when kids-centered movies that aren’t special-effects driven are notoriously hard sells?
In my personal opinion, where Matt and Ben screwed up was on the sales side. I think they went in wanting to prove themselves not just with any script, but with the artsiest most non-Hollywood script they could find. And the reality is, unless you have the hottest young actor in town or your director literally directs the PERFECT film, artsy movies never do well.
Sales must ALWAYS be a part of a picking a screenplay. Can you sell this idea to an audience? If not, I don’t care how well the script’s written. No one’s going to see it. I mean did any of you see Palo Alto? It’s supposed to be good. It even stars James Franco. But it’s not a movie people race to the theater to see. So of course it’s not going to make any money. To not take that into consideration when you’re doing a contest that will result in making a movie is to hang your screenwriters out to dry.
Is this a film you would’ve gone to see?
But that was about to change with the announcement of a new Project Greenlight series on HBO. Matt and Ben had ten more years in the business. They’re smarter now. Savvier. This time when they found the next great undiscovered screenwriter, they were going to do so with a script that had a chance. Whether that be with his own script or working on an idea they came up with, the point was they were going to make screenwriting boss again.
And then I heard the news. They wouldn’t be looking for screenwriters at all. The contest was limited to directors. I couldn’t believe it. Matt and Ben had just given a big “F U” to the screenwriting community. What they were essentially saying was, “We don’t think screenwriting matters that much anymore. This is a director’s medium.”
I guess the writing was on the wall. Recently, when Damon was promoting his film, Elysium, and was asked about screenwriting, he confided that he makes his decisions these days based only on the director. That’s the lone criteria he follows when making his decision. It wasn’t clear if he even reads scripts for potential projects anymore.
The irony was thick. The two guys who were here because of screenwriting had completely turned their backs on screenwriting. But why? What’s the harm in trying to find a great writer? There’s no doubt organizing and reading 10,000 scripts is a lot harder than looking through thousands of 3 minute videos on the internet. But are you really going to let that stop you?
The reason new talent keeps breaking into Hollywood is because the old guard get fat and lazy. The things they used to do at the beginning – whether it be driving to 50 auditions a week or reading 5 scripts a day – they don’t do that anymore because it’s easier to sit on your leather couch and wait for the studio to call you with their latest offer. Gone is all that hustle that used to define you. And guess what? There’s a hungry kid out there who’s doing all those same things you used to do. And because he’s willing to do the hard work, sooner or later, he’s going to catch up to you. So I really hope this didn’t just come down to work.
But the alternative may be worse. By two men who were defined by their screenwriting prowess ignoring screenwriting in their new contest, are they admitting, in whatever indirect way, that writing for the big screen is dead? Are they saying that screenwriting doesn’t matter anymore?
With studio slates getting so slim they’re starting to resemble runway models, is the system now so small that only the same big-hitters are hired for all the films in town? And because fewer specs are needed, does that nullify the need for new writing talent coming in? And if that’s the case, why bother? Is that what Matt and Ben are saying?
They shouldn’t be saying that. Because here’s what’s going to happen. As TV writing options get better and better, and more and more good writers flee to that medium, Hollywood studios are going to find themselves smack dab in the middle of a writing talent deficit. Shit, it’s already happening. Box office is down 15 percent from last year. And I know this town. I know they’re going to blame it on everything but the writing. What they don’t realize, though, is that the more you marginalize the writer, and the smaller you make that pool of people writing your films, the more of the same you’re going to get. And audiences will always tire of the same at some point.
The one true breakout hit this summer was Guardians of the Galaxy. Something that truly felt different. And it was originally adapted by a girl who had one tiny low-ranking script on the Black List. They could have more of that if they took more chances and put more emphasis on the writing. But they’re not. Outside of Marvel – which is really only taking chances because they’re on the most notorious win streak in Hollywood history and have bajillions of dollars in their coffers – everyone’s playing it safe, not realizing that the audiences have caught up with the con. They know there’s nothing new around the corner.
How does this tie in with Matt and Ben? By only looking for directors, they’re promoting more of the same. They’re basically saying, “Who cares about the script as long as the movie looks good.”
Have you watched any short movies lately? Even the best ones, the ones that end up on best-of-the-year lists, have terrible writing. None of these directors know the first thing about characters or plotting. And I’m not saying they should. Their job is to become the best director they can be. But by only putting the emphasis on these guys and not the script, Matt and Ben have admitted that they’ve either given up on screenwriters or they don’t want to go through the hassle required to find new ones.
And I think these guys owe it to the screenwriting community to go through the hassle. They’ve learned so much from the original experiment. You now know that the script needs a marketable edge and some real money in order to stand out from a production value point of view. I don’t know if it’s too late to start the process or what, but if it is, I hope these two realize their mistake and find another way to give screenwriters a chance. It’d be nice to find the writer of the next Good Will Hunting before he hangs it up due to a lack of opportunities.