Genre: Romantic Comedy
Premise: A young woman with low-self esteem begins dating an extremely attractive man.
About: Purchased by Mandate pictures, The Low Self Esteem of Lizzie Gillespie finished with 7 votes on last year’s Black List. Mindy Kaling plays Kelly Kapour on The Office, a show she also writes for. Brent Forrester has an impressive pedigree behind him. He’s worked on The Ben Stiller Show, The Simpsons, King of The Hill, wrote an episode of one of my favorite extinct shows ever, Undeclared, and also works as a writer on The Office.
Writers: Mindy Kaling and Brent Forrester
Details: 121 pages – June 17, 2009 (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time of the film’s release. 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).

You know I kind of like Mindy Kaling (Kelly Kapour on “The Office”). Here’s my only question for Mindy though. If she’s a writer on The Office, why doesn’t she write herself into more episodes? Kelly disappears for long stretches at a time, so much so that I’ll occasionally wonder if she’s still on the show. She’s a lot funnier than some of those people who get way more air time. That leads me to another question. In The Office, all Stanley does is sit at a desk all day. That’s his job. He never says anything or interacts with anyone. However long it takes to film those episodes, he just sits there. Does he consider himself the luckiest person ever to get paid to sit around and do nothing? Or is he frustrated that he’s basically a glorified extra?

I’m getting off track here. Okay, so, I always find it interesting when TV writers (specifically sitcom writers) cross over into features or vice versa. It’s a totally different beast, both ways, especially if you’re coming from the sit-com world. There’s some obvious crossover – the story element is similar and some of the character stuff is the same – but it’s a lot harder to build a story over a 110 minute period than it is 22 minutes. You have to know when to let the story breath, when to step on the gas, etc. It’s not as simple as writing longer scenes. So did Kaling and her writing partner, Brent Forrester, pull it off? Let us find out.

Lizzie’s never been the kind of girl to turn heads. She’s plump in a cute way, but you’d probably be stretching it to call her pretty. So it only makes sense that at some point in her life she made the decision to categorize all hot guys as unobtainable. As a result, Lizzie only dates dweeby dorky dudes who “look like Ira Glass.” I don’t know who Ira Glass is but with a name like that, I’m guessing he’s no Vin Diesel.

So one day, while taking her friend’s daughter to one of those cheesy low-budget Children’s Museum plays, she meets Patrick, who’s so good-looking he makes Brad Pitt self-conscious. Patrick’s a barely in-work actor (if you call children’s plays work) and also surprisingly humble. When Mindy bumps into him after one of his shows, the two hit it off in a weird way and agree to meet up later, amongst friends.

Lizzie thinks nothing of it because of her “never-believe-hot-guys-like-her” training. To her he’s just a dude who needs a friend. Her friends, however, are convinced he has the hots for her, and thus begins the awkward dance we’re all so familiar with you start hanging out with someone of the opposite sex and the signals get crossed and you’re stabbing yourself every night trying to figure out if it’s a friend thing or a let’s get jiggy with it thing. Thank God for Facebook flirting, right? Remember when you used to have to…gasp…call people to get an idea of how they felt?

Anyway, eventually the two end up together, and Lizzie has an entirely new set of problems, which involves combating her daily insecurities. For example, she refuses to get naked in front of Patrick out of fear he’ll think she’s fat. In case you were wondering if Lizzie has low self-esteem, she reminds you every chance she gets.

Then before she knows it, her insecurities get the better of her, and she inadvertently orchestrates her relationship’s demise. We’re left to wonder if it’s possible for a couple, whose looks are so far apart on the good-looking spectrum, to survive in an image-conscience world.

First, the good. Kaling and Forrester predictably have a knack for dialogue and character. All the characters here are memorable and fun. I wouldn’t call it a chuckle-fest but I laughed my share of times. For example, we get the most awkward dirty talk sex scene ever, (her previous boyfriend offers this weird commentary during some heated sex) “Are you my wife?” “Are you the mother of my kids?” And Lizzie’s friends are also pretty funny, such as when her best friend Maggie tries to cheer her up after Lizzie’s Ira-Glass-like boyfriend dumps her. He was a loser, she tells Lizzie. “Maybe he was a loser. But he loved me.” “He didn’t love you, he was sleeping with an anorexic vampire.” “Why would you mention how thin she was?”

But the problem here is exactly what I worried about from the beginning. There’s no real story to sink your teeth into.

Back in the day, most romantic comedies had a story behind them. In Pretty Woman, there’s the whole “he buys her for the week” angle. In Notting Hill there’s the whole “dating a movie star” angle. But then Judd Apatow came along and kind of changed the game, creating rom coms based more on ideas than on stories. 40 year old Virgin. Knocked Up. But see even those movies had something to hang their hat on. We want to see if Steve Carrell is going to get laid. We want to see if Seth Rogan can become responsible enough to raise a child. Here, the entire movie is based on the protagonist’s character flaw, Lizzie’s low self-esteem. Lizzie’s not really going after anything. She’s just living her life. And for a script that’s 120 pages, that’s not nearly enough to keep us engaged.

The characters end up wandering around a lot, and the above reason is why. If there’s no ultimate goal for our main character to try and achieve, no ticking time bomb pushing us forward, then there isn’t a whole lot for our characters to do but sit around and talk to each other. There’s really only one romantic comedy in history that got away with this and that’s When Harry Met Salley, which to this day is one of the biggest anomalies in screenwriting.

This script actually reminded me a lot of She’s Out Of My League, which I reviewed a long time ago and which I thought was a little better than this. The Low Self Esteem of Lizzie Gillespie has some bright moments. Let’s just hope the next draft builds more of a story around those moments.

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

What I learned: There are three types of goals you want for your characters. First is their story goal. What is it they’re after? This is the engine that drives your entire story so it’s the most important goal of the bunch. In The 40 Year Old Virgin, for example, Steve Carrel’s story goal is to get laid. The next type of goal is the immediate goal. This goal is constantly changing during the story and refers to whatever your character is trying to achieve right now. This is usually a subset of the main goal. Your character must get *this* (whatever “this” is) before they can get the final goal. Using 40-Year Old Virgin again, Steve Carrell first goes to a club to find a girl he can have sex with. His goal then, is simply to bring a woman home. A few scenes later, his goal is to try and ask the E-Bay store girl on a date. The final goal-type is one that’s the least utilized in movies, but important nonetheless. It’s your hero’s life goal. Beyond this story, what is it your character really wants? The reason a life goal is so important is because it often defines a person. When someone tells us what they want to do more than anything else in the world, that’s a pretty big indicator of who that person is. Lizzie has a nice life goal here. She wants to be a dramturge, which is the person who provides historical context at the beginning of a play. It’s weird and quirky and different, which are the same advectives you’d use to describe Lizzie. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Back East sounds like a Carson script! Not a Roger script! Yet here Roger is stretching his reading muscles and stepping out of his comfort zone. Good for him. While he does that, I’m preparing for a week with a writer interview (hopefully!), and two very popular specs, one from a couple of years back, and one from the nineties. Both lit the spec world on fire in their own way. Finally, I’m reviewing a script that one writer gave me and said, “This is the next ‘All The President’s Men. Best screenplay I’ve read in three years.'” Whoa! That’s a big claim. Was it that good? Find out tomorrow. And finally, if you’re an aspiring or semi-professional writer looking to get your script reviewed on the site, don’t forget to check out the “Amateur Month” post. All the information is there for how to sign up.

Genre: Indie Drama Premise: A young man living in LA heads back east to help his aging folks, only to find himself stranded in a nearly deserted desert town after his car breaks down. While fixing the car, he meets and falls for a sexy traveler heading west to LA with her boyfriend. About: Zack Whedon co-created and co-wrote Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog with his brothers Jed and Joss. Before that he co-wrote an episode of Deadwood and wrote and acted in an episode of John from Cincinatti. Most recently, he’s been working on J.J. Abrams and Orci-Kurtzman’s show, Fringe. “Back East” was on the 2007 Black List with two votes. Writer: Zack Whedon
Details: 92 pages (This is an early draft of the script. The situations, characters, and plot may change significantly by the time of the film’s release. 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)

When it comes to the Brothers Whedon, sure, you can consider me a fanboy. From Buffy: The Vampire Slayer to Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, I usually love everything these guys do. But every now and then there’s a bump in the road. For every Whedonesque Astonishing X-Men comic I like, there’s an episode of Dollhouse I don’t like. Which brings us to this Zack Whedon spec script, “Back East”.

Is it unfair of me to say that I prefer Zack Whedon’s writing on something like Fringe over this small Indie Drama, “Back East”? Maybe I just prefer tales where a guy transforms into a weird spiky monster in an airplane bathroom over a slow burn coming-of-age drama where a depressed twenty-something protagonist shares a few flirtatious moments with a Manic Pixie Dream Girl who is already taken.

Or maybe it’s just that I want more drama in my character studies. I want more personality, dammit.

Who is this about, Rog?

It’s about a depressed twenty-four year old named William. William seems to be drifting through the days in his life, not really moving anywhere. The way he stares at the LA landscape with his headphones on, how he might be physically present at his boring office job while his mind is clearly somewhere else.

He seems numb.

Through a conversation with his mother in Connecticut, we learn that his father’s health is failing. His mother, in an effort to connect to her son, brings up how she just found the ticket stub from when he played a part in the King and I in fifth grade. One wonders if this ties into whatever his LA dream is, and his mother responds to the lack of his reaction, “You don’t care.”

“I care.”

William contemplates his situation. Apparently he doesn’t show up at work one day, and when they try to call him, he drops his cell phone in his fish tank.

He’s made the decision to leave Los Angeles.

He packs everything he can in his little Chevy Nova, and before he leaves his apartment complex, his neighbor Susan catches him. She hands him an envelope. Inside is a joint. “For the road.”

We learn more about William as he drives east, talking to himself, presumably addressing an audience in his mind:

“The thing you don’t realize when you’re writing something like that is the impact it is going to have for so many people…In the midst of writing it you’re so caught up and wrapped up in simply getting it done, getting anyone to read it at all, that the reaction of a wide audience is beyond your realm of consideration.”

Holy shit. Is William an aspiring screenwriter?

Zack Whedon knows readers should be smart. He doesn’t need to spell everything out for us, instead giving us just enough information to make our own conclusions. I like that.

But yeah, based upon other snippets of conversation in the script, and because Los Angeles is the center of what was once William’s plan, I have to deduce that he’s an aspiring screenwriter.

At twenty-four, he’s throwing in the towel pretty early.

It’s not something we dwell on, but this giving up so easily, it’s something that’s gonna have to change for William. And that’s where the town of Dry Lake comes in.

Is Dry Lake the desert town William gets stranded in?

Yep. William’s Chevy Nova breaks down, but luckily, an old tow-truck operator named Jeffrey helps him out. Jeffrey is my favorite character. He’s a retired mechanic, and seems to spend most of his days sitting out in his backyard, trying to remember life when he was younger.

Every now and then he mentions his wife, how she went east to watch the colors change with the seasons, how strange she was. How happy he was with her.

Jeffrey owns a shop, but he tells William, “I’m 79 years old, son. I don’t fix shit anymore…I can do all the thinking and you can do all the working.”

So William, who knows nothing about how to fix vehicles, is going to have to diagnose and repair the Nova himself.

Since this is going to take some time, he takes up residence at a nautical-themed motel and restaurant called The Mariner.

So who’s the cast of characters at The Mariner?

Well, there’s William’s foil, Avery. A congenial guy in his late thirties who runs the reception desk of the motel. His parents, or more specifically, his mother, Joan, have spent the entirety of their lives in Dry Lake, running The Mariner.

Avery seems insecure that he’s from Dry Lake, and although he’s lived in places like Phoenix, he seems uncomfortable that he’s back in Dry Lake, helping his mom run her business. He seems to have bigger plans, and they don’t involve Dry Lake.

Then there’s Tamara, a beautiful traveler heading west to LA with her rich boyfriend, Evan. Her and William automatically hit it off while she’s drinking her iced tea at the bar, and William not only dislikes her boyfriend for existing, this stance is solidified when he sees Evan wearing socks with sandals.

I like the idea of Tamara.

I like the idea of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. You know, that ephemeral Holly Golightly female that exists as salve for the emotional wounds of the broody male lead.

Unfortunately, Tamara’s character ended up disappointing me. And this is where I lost interest with the script.

What sort of problems was Tamara having with her boyfriend, Evan?

I’m not sure exactly. I guess they’re complicated. She loves Evan, who is from LA. She is not. But she is moving there, and this scares her. She doesn’t seem gung-ho about ingratiating herself with all of Evan’s wealthy LA friends.

But she really seems to like William. In fact, she spends most of her time in Dry Lake talking to William. And these conversations are the salt and light that William seems to crave, that he seems to need.

She represents hope and possibility, but it sucks for him because she’s with Evan. He doesn’t understand why she’s with Evan. Hell, I don’t either. I just didn’t get why she was spending so much time with William.

So what happens?

William has to put some effort into learning how to fix his Nova. I suppose, for me, this was the best part of the script.

Jeffrey does teach William a valuable lesson about life, “You got to learn how to do something to know how to do it. The only things you’re going to do without learning how first is waking up and breathing, after that it’s up to you.”

And to me, this is what the script is about.

From fixing cars, to learning musical instruments, to writing, you can’t expect you’re going to automatically know how to do it. You’ve gotta learn. You’ve gotta work at it. Not only is that a fine attitude with which to approach the craft of screenwriting, but it’s the attitude that we should adopt while approaching life and our dreams in general.

See, I get that. I like that. That’s what I took away from this read.

But William wants Tamara.

He yearns for her so much, in fact, he may sabotage Evan’s Jeep Cherokee so that they’re stuck in Dry Lake longer, buying him more time to try and convince Tamara to go east with him.

I guess it’s supposed to be complicated, but if anything, it frustrated me. Although, I did like the final note of hope at the end of the script concerning their relationship.

So what was the problem?

For the first act or so, William intrigued me. And it also helped that Tamara seemed like a mystery (at first, anyways). I immediately wanted to know what sort of territory these characters were heading into, especially since Tamara had a boyfriend, yet spent a lot of her free time at Dry Lake with William.

But, because, to me, Tamara wasn’t that interesting (other than that she pretends to really like ghost towns), I ended up clocking out of the script around the mid-point.

To me, “Back East” felt more like a short story I could find in a literary journal like Zoetrope or Glimmer Train. As prose fiction, the story could work because the writer could do much of the heavy lifting through use of language. But as cinema? I think “Back East” needs more dramatic meat. Perhaps one of the issues is that Whedon is going for notes that are delicate and subtle, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. When it works, I marvel at the craft (the drive belt in William’s bag was a nice touch), but when it doesn’t, it feels too understated, almost skeletal.

I saw what the writer was attempting to do, but because I wanted more (more personality, more depth in the relationships) from the characters of William and Tamara, I wasn’t moved like I should have been. I think there are notes that could hit the right emotions on celluloid as a tone poem, but as is, the whole doesn’t feel greater than the sum of its parts.

Script link:

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

What I learned: I wasn’t exactly compelled by the characters in this script, and because this is a tale where not exactly a whole lot happens, my attention kept wavering. The weird thing about these coming-of-age Indie Dramas is that if the characters don’t keep me glued to the page, I start to miss something like plot. Sometimes plot can do some of the heavy lifting when it comes to pace and narrative drive. Plot can keep you turning the pages even if you aren’t ultimately moved by the story. In that way, plot can be like a band-aid for the existence of less-than-stellar characters. But when you have something like a character study or an Indie Drama, you can’t use band-aids. The characters have to have be three dimensional, unique, and possess flaws and shortcomings that creates conflict amongst the characters and an anticipation to find out what happens next. In that sense, character is the engine that drives the story. But in my mind, even if you have awesome plotting, the story should still be character-driven. It should still be moving. At least that’s the high watermark I think we all should aim for.

To get in touch with Roger, you can e-mail him at: rogerbalfourscriptshadow@gmail.com

It’s Day 3 of Alternative Draft Week, where we look at alternative drafts from the movies you loved (or hated). In some cases, these drafts are said to be better, in others, worse, or in others still, just plain different. Either way, it’s interesting to see what could’ve been. We started out with Roger’s review of James Cameron’s draft of “First Blood 2“. We followed that with my review of “The Last Action Hero.” And today we’re taking on Ron Bass’ draft of “Entrapment.” So enjoy.

Genre: Action/Espionage/Heist/Romance
Premise: An undercover insurance agent is sent by her employer to track down and help capture an art thief. But to do so, she must befriend him, gain his trust, and help him with his next heist.
About: Ron Bass wrote the original draft for this 1999 caper, which was widely praised. But over the course of a dozen drafts, Don Macpherson & William Broyles Jr. took it in another direction, creating what some believe was a lame excuse to pair together two hot actors at the time, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Sean Connery. Ron Bass, who we’ve reviewed before, began writing at the age of six while bedridden with a childhood illness. Although he loved it, he decided on a more practical career after his college professor told him he’d never be published. He graduated from Harvard Law and began a successful career in entertainment law, eventually rising to the level of partner, but the writing bug never left. So he returned to it and had his first novel published in 1978 (“The Perfect Thief”). Producer Jonathan Sanger optioned his third novel “The Emerald Illusion”, opening the door for Bass to become a screenwriter.
Writer: Ron Bass
Details: 118 pages (1st Draft, December 2, 1996)

It would be nice if I could lay out all these stories with the same kind of detail I did “The Last Action Hero,” but, contrary to popular belief, I don’t have access to the Hollywood Development Archives. Much of what I have here is cobbled together from lore and heresay. What I can tell you about Entrapment though is this: Ron Bass’ first draft is something I’ve been hearing about forever. Supposedly, he’d whipped together a wickedly sharp romance-caper that had everyone in Hollywood talking. Unfortunately, over the course of 12 drafts, much of the greatness that was in that early draft was left on the typing room floor – or so it is said. The big complaint was that the producers had taken a cool edgy flick and turned it into a mountain of cotton candy, a lame piece of Hollywood fluff. But fluff turned out to be exactly what the masses wanted (doesn’t it always?) The movie opened on May 7th of 1999 to a surprising 20.1 million, dethroning a little film called “The Matrix” from the top spot. It ended up making 220 million dollars worldwide, but was quickly forgotten three weeks later, like a lot of movies at that time, its memory swallowed up by the behemoth of George Lucas’ long-awaited return to Star Wars, “The Phantom Menace.” Either way, no one can argue that the movie didn’t do well. The question is, could it have done more? Would this draft have made Entrapment the kind of film we still talk about today? My memory of the flick is that of a geriatric old warbler and a woman young enough to be his granddaughter, running around and flirting a lot, which, to be honest, made me very uncomfortable. I also remember tons and tons of really cheesy dialogue. So I was interested to see if this initial draft was free of all that.

Gin Baker is a young sexy insurance agent whose job it is to recover stolen paintings for high-class clients. When an expensive painting is stolen out of a 70th floor John Hancock Building condo, the crime scene’s handiwork points to one person, Andrew McDougal, an internationally known super-thief. There’s only one problem. Andrew is 60 years old and has been off the thief-circuit for over a decade. Why would he come out of retirement to steal a relatively unknown painting?

Well that’s what Gin is going to find out. She travels halfway across the world and finds McDougal (or “Mac”) at a major art auction. She uses plenty of skin and her big smile to lure Mac in, but he’s immediately wary of her, knowing this game is full of people pretending to be someone they’re not. But Mac’s not immune to the temptation of flesh either, and allows Gin into his circle, at least for the time being. After an impromptu theft, the two head back to his suite for some seriously age-inappropriate sex.

I’m not going to mince words. This portion of the script is awful. It amounts to two people trading cheesy supposedly sexually-charged barbs in the same 1-2 “setup and payoff” rhythm you’d get from a Sesame Street skit. There’s no spontaneity, no originality to the dialogue. It’s just “setup” “payoff” “setup” “payoff” over and over again. For example, Mac would say to Gin something like “Better get an umbrella. I hear it’s going to rain.” Her reply: “That’s okay. I like being wet.” Or Gin would say, “Escaping those guards will be hard.” Mac’s reply: “I’d rather be hard than soft.” That’s not real dialogue from the script. But it might as well be. This is what you have to trudge through in these first 50 pages.

This is exacerbated by the overuse of commentary in the action, where every single nuance, every single eye flicker, every inner thought is supplied in detail in between the dialogue. Here’s what I mean:

MAC
I stole your suitcase when I left you at the bar. I have since sent it on to the States, with three chips, well hidden.

Are you following.

MAC
Since you aren’t there to claim it, the bag will sit at Customs. Safe. Unless…

No smile. No smile at all.

MAC
They receive. An anonymous. Tip.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

GIN
That’s entrapment.

MAC
No. Entrapment’s what cops do to robbers.

We can feel her heart pounding from here.

That’s what it’s like for the entire script, or at least the first half. The biggest problem with this, especially when combined with the endless flirty dialogue, is that it makes the entire romance come over as if it’s trying too hard. We feel like it’s being forced down our throats: These two like each other! They really fucking like each other!!! And I understand that this is a first draft and that the tone and originality of the dialogue will be worked out over time, but it’s just I heard such good things about this script and I’d assumed that meant addressing my main problem of over-the-top cheesiness.

The structure during this portion of the screenplay is a mess as well. Although we know that Gin is trying to retrieve the original stolen painting, we never met the person who had the painting stolen, and therefore don’t really care whether they get it back or not. Nor is there any specific urgency in obtaining the painting, no timeframe or time limit. For that reason, the only reason for the story to exist is to listen to an over-sexed Nursing Home patient and a playmate with grandfather issues to banter mindlessly amidst an occasional fuck.

It isn’t until Mac (spoilers here) “reveals” to Gin that he’s an art thief and wants to include her on his next job that the story picks up. But even here, as he trains her for the job, the plot device feels like an excuse to give these two more time to exchange sexual innuendos and flirtatious quips. The training sequences, which involve stuff like jumping out of planes, are devoid of any tension, because there are no stakes at all. We aren’t told what Mac’s after and therefore don’t care if he succeeds. It’s all really boring.

But then…

It’s as if Bass all of a sudden realized what his story was about (more spoilers) and the script does a complete 180. There’s a couple of well-executed twists, the primary of which is Gin revealing that she’s not really an insurance agent, but a thief. Her job is cover, as well as a sly way to figure out where and how to get the very paintings she’s supposed to be protecting. And that while Mac thought he’d been testing her to see if she was capable of pulling off his job, all this time she’d actually been testing *him* to see if *he* was capable of pulling off *her* job. And that job is what brought me back on board – the plan to steal 8 billion dollars.

And this is where the draft and the film differ. Whereas the film places the climactic heist in the Petronas Towers of Kuala Lumpur, Bass’ draft focuses on the 1997 Hong Kong change-over back to China. While the execution of this storyline is superior to the film version, I can’t help but notice that it’s a change that needed to happen. You can’t release a technology-heavy movie in 1999 about 1997. It would be like making 2012 in 2013.

Whatever the case, the last 50 pages of this script are really well-constructed. The twists are executed to perfection. The multi-stage heist (which includes invading a mountain guarded by an army) is both inventive and exciting. We see things we’ve never seen before in this type of movie. And whereas the first half of the script has zero tension, the pursuit of 8 billion dollars really gives the second half the kick in the ass it needs, since the stakes for pulling off the biggest heist in the history of the planet are naturally pretty high.

So to me, Bass’ draft is two separate screenplays, the lame first half and the sizzling second half, which I’m sure can be attributed to this being his first crack at the story. What isn’t solved, unfortunately, is the lame back and forth cheesy dialogue between the two main characters. That was always the big issue for me. And my impression was that this draft would come off as a smarter edgier version of what we saw in theaters. That wasn’t the case.

But you can’t deny the fact that this ending rocks, and if I were 20th Century Fox, I’d extract the big Tapei Mountain Sequence and put it into one of their other big franchises, cause it really is well done. The 8 billion dollar heist is also nicely executed. My experience tells me it should be impossible in real life, but Bass sold it well and I bought it.

Anyway, another interesting peek into development, and an excuse to run to the video store, grab Entrapment, and do some serious procrastination on whatever script you’re working on. But you’ll have to beat me there, cause I’m going right now. :)

P.S. If you’re a fan of these kinds of films, don’t forget to check out my old review of Lovers, Liars, and Thieves.

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

What I learned: Chemistry between your romantic leads is essential, but chemistry isn’t as simple as nailing the casting. It needs to start on the page. Now there are exceptions to every rule, but one that’s fairly consistent is: keep your leads from kissing and/or having sex until the third act. Why? Because chemistry is built on the unknown, on our curiosity of if they’re going to consummate the relationship. Think about how sexually charged your relationship is with that certain guy or girl. Why is it that way? Cause you haven’t done anything about it yet! Once you “do it,” the unknown disappears. That sexy spark which permeates through every sentence goes bye-bye. Characters in screenplays are no different. Making them sleep together = losing the fun. Gin and Mac sleep together within the first 40 pages here (I don’t remember if they did this in the film or not) and there’s no doubt that something is lost in the process. Now I’m not saying this is a blanket rule. In a movie like “The Notebook,” for example, which is a memoir that takes place over an extended period of time, the plot dictates that we experience that first kiss and that first sexual experience fairly early. But here, in a movie like Entrapment, which is basically built on the chemistry of the leads, that choice is disastrous, cause you eliminate the big thing we’re all wondering if they’re going to do or not. Interest over.

Michael Stark is here for the sequel of, “Ten Books That Need To Be Turned Into Movies.” His taste gives the list a distinct new flavor. Because there’s so much script-book crossover reading, I’m wondering if I shouldn’t start putting up some book reviews on the site. Any book fans out there that would like to write some reviews for the site? Maybe you could submit something to me. In the meantime, get those lists ready cause tomorrow (Wednesday) at noon, I’m putting up the “Reader Script Faves” post. Get your top 10 scripts lists ready. :) Here’s Michael Stark…

That ever-so-polite-and-gracious Roger Balfour neglected to tell you faithful readers who gave him the idea for his little book report a few weeks back. It generated a ton of discussions (that’s what Script Shadow lives for) and a few other fringe benefits for good old Rog.

After his alter ego got all that brainy, literary, cyber tail, here I am in the internet bookstore I run out of my house, lonely, unappreciated, looking through my dusty tomes for a few suggestions for part deux.

Here are my ten:

1. High Rise by J.G. Ballard

Think The Lord of the Flies set in The Towering Inferno.

Now, this is by the guy who wrote Crash. Not the Academy Award winning, Paul Haggis, real life in LA, multi-culti/multi-cast/multi-storied Crash, but the Crash about Symphorophiliac sickos who can only get off by getting themselves into sensational, limb-losing car accidents.

Yup, that Crash. Ballard is kinda the English Gentleman version of Chuck Palahniuk.

High Rise is pretty sick too. Probably would need David Cronenberg directing to pull it off. I think the nightmares I got after reading it is what got me off the concrete island of Manhattan and into a nice, little house in rural Georgia.

Written in 1975, the social relevance is timeless. Cram too many people in a fabulous high-rise apartment complex with all the amenities and modern conveniences (gym, shops, pool, high-speed elevators, an Urban Outfitters, etc) that you pretty much never have to leave …

And, then, let the building go to total shit …

And, then, watch what happens to the inhabitants.

It’s like the Tipping point. Once the building starts breaking down, society starts breaking down too. Class systems emerge and begin warring against each other. Floors vs. Floor.

Eventually, none of the condo owners are going to work or even stepping foot outside the building. They remain inside to fight and protect their turf. When food sources start to dwindle, the annoying barking dog across the hall suddenly becomes fair game. And, perhaps, a few weeks later, the gal who snubbed you in the laundromat.

It’s George Romero directing an episode of Big Brother.

Okay, I’m not the only freaky fan who wants to see this on film. Producer, Jeremy Thomson, has owned the rights for nearly thirty years! Someone, please, help the guy out!!!

2. THE TOMB by F. Paul Wilson

Nuff said. Who can argue with Uncle Stevie?

Repairman Jack isn’t the fix it guy you call when your old Norge is on the fritz or the john is overflowing, but he’ll definitely crawl through some pretty serious shit for a client. It’s like hiring Burn Notice’s Michael Westen and getting all the Ghost Busters along for the ride.

The Tomb was the first of a planned 15-book cycle (not including some short stories and young adult novels) featuring Jack, the Manhattan Mercenary for the Little Guy that can’t help but take cases that are gonna veer mid-way through off into the supernatural.

Jack, not unlike Lee Child’s Jack Reacher, lives pretty much off the grid. He doesn’t have a last name, vote, pay taxes or talk to census-takers. Unlike most action/adventure heroes, he’s pretty much an average guy without super powers or military training. He’s just naturally good at bashing bad guys whenever the Joe Franklin Show isn’t on.

In The Tomb, Repairman Jack is asked to retrieve a stolen necklace. Of course, his client neglects to tell him about the ancient curse it carries and the Bengali demons it’ll ultimately unleash. And, that said demons – the Rakoshi — would be going after the adorable daughter of Jack’s extremely hot ex-girlfriend.

Chicago may have hosted the Night Stalker and Harry Dresden, but NYC and the Boroughs are the perfect stomping grounds for Jack and “The Otherness” monsters he keeps finding himself pitted against.

Jack has been able to get himself out of a lot of tough scrapes, but hasn’t been able to budge from development hell. According to Wilson, six screenwriters have had at this potential franchise over the past 12 years.

Possible solution: Episodic TV ala the Dresden Files? I’m just saying…

3. Let it Blurt by Jim DeRogatis

A lot of people got introduced to the wisdom of Lester Bangs when Philip Seymour Hoffman played the world-weary bear of a rock critic in Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous.

I grew up reading Lester’s rants in Creem magazine, back in the early 80s, when music really, really, really sucked. And, this wonderful, wonderful man introduced me to an exciting, new type of soundz that was only a 45-minute train ride away from my nice, safe Long Island home. He changed my life. Changed millions of others too.

He wasn’t just a rock critic. He was the Hunter S. Thompson of the music world. I mean, Lord, the guy could write a 30,000 word screed of a record review that talked to your soul. So, why isn’t he in the Hall of Fame? Bangs pretty much championed heavy metal and punk when Rock n Roll seemed to be on its last legs.

I know they’ve been trying to develop Please Kill Me, the Oral History of Punk into a movie for the longest time. I’ll help you guys out. If you suits wanna make a flick about the time period when punk rock broke, ya do it by focusing on the man who coined the fucking term. You shoot it through his eyes and ears.

Bio pics ain’t easy. And, movies about writers seem to be the ultimate taboo in Hollywood. But, the life of Bangs is the exception. He partied faster and louder than any of the rock stars he wrote about. Growing up with a fervent Jehovah’s Witness of a mother, Lester would grow up to evangelize just as hard and passionately about the Devil’s music she despised.

The book starts out with Bangs jamming onstage with the J. Geils band in a packed out arena, the critic, playing what else? — An electric typewriter! TAT TAT TAT along with the noize. Now, if that ain’t a great opening sequence, I don’t know what is.

Ya got his ongoing battle against the corporate suits making shitty albums, his longstanding feud with Lou Reed and a cast of supporting characters that include Alice Cooper, Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, The Ramones and the Clash. Who the hell wouldn’t want to be in this movie, playing their favorite rock icon?!! Who wouldn’t want to play Lou Reed? Who wouldn’t wanna be Bangs?

4. The Travis McGee novels by John D. MacDonald.

Again, you gonna argue with Uncle Stevie?

Some of you kids will know John D. Macdonald for penning the book that would become Cape Fear. But, Man, the prolific sonofagun penned 78 freaking books! Most of them extremely worthy of your time.

Travis appeared in 21 of them. Ask any mystery fan. This is the guy they most want turned into a celluloid hero.

And, yeah, they tried before. And, failed. First in 1970 with Rod Taylor. Then, again, in 1983 with Sam Elliot, for a failed TV pilot. The first clue that they fucked it all to hell was when they moved the famed local from Fort Lauderdale to Southern California. Sheesh!

Unlike other detectives, McGee is neither a cop nor a gum shoe. He’s a “salvage consultant” who recovers your lost or stolen property for half their value. He is a tough guy, knight-errant, beach bum, sex therapist and philosopher. Like Carl Hiaasen many years later, MacDonald uses his character to make comment on the corruption and trashing of his home state.

McGee lives on a houseboat, “The Busted Flush”, that he won in a poker game and drives a custom Rolls Royce, Miss Agnes, that has been transformed into a pick-up truck. His best friend is Meyer, a hairy economist who often provides the Holmesian deduction skills to solve their cases. Ha! His boat is called The John Maynard Keynes.

Fiercely independent, McGee would retire after every case. Then take on a new client only after the money had run out -– or if the client was an old friend (the man had honor) or was exceptionally hot (the man was also pretty horny). Each case had enough corrupt businessmen and sadistic killers to keep things interesting.

McGee is also a product of his times. Half paternal figure and half Hugh Hefner. I guess he’s the fictional character most of us bookworms wish we could be. I’d live on a houseboat too if it weren’t for my blasted allergies!

A rumor has it that Leo is damned close to playing him. YEA!!!! Wish fulfillment. Just keep it in Florida, dudes. Or a lot of librarians are gonna be after you.

5. Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold.

Remember how much Script Shadow raved about the unproduced script, Smoke and Mirrors? Well, who the hell doesn’t love period pieces with magicians?

If Captain Carson would’ve let me, I probably could have populated this entire list with tomes and bios about showmen, tricksters and prestidigitators.

That’s my thing. I love magic. My first paying job as a tween was doing kiddie magic shows.

So, Carter edged out Robertson Davies’ Fifth Business for the conjuring book I most want to see on the big screen. Good job, Mr. Gold. Beating out the Canadian Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a pretty freaking impressive feat.

And, it’s his first freaking novel too.

I’m enamored … and fucking jealous.

Early 20th Century San Francisco. Famed illusionist Charles Carter, has to flee the country after the President, Warren G. Harding, mysteriously dies after volunteering for one of his tricks.

In his act, in front of a sold out crowd, he had chopped the president into little pieces, cut off his head and fed him to a lion, before restoring him to prefect health.

Now, that’s a tough act to follow. Try that David Blaine!

This book has got every trick in the book. Sideshows, handsome FBI agents, beautiful blind chicks, impossible escapes, The Marx brothers, caged beasts, fast motorcycles, the invention of television and plenty of schemes and scoundrels with devastating secrets.

How does it end? Pretty much in the show to beat all shows. Carter must indeed beat the devil to save the ones he loves.

Shit. The whole book is just that magical.

From what I’ve read, Magic-loving Tom Cruise (He had Mandrake, Houdini and Blackstone pics in development too) still has the rights to the book.

Thus, unless Robert Towne starts waving a magic wand soon, escape from development hell looks hopeless.

6. Secret Dead Men by Duane Swierczynski.

A few weeks ago, Roger put Swierczynski’s Severance Package on his list of adaptations he’d most like to see.

Yup, I’d love to see that one get made too, but Secret Dead Men is my fave. It’s the one they’re gonna have to reunite Spike Jonez and Charlie Kaufman to pull off. It’s one of the most surreal, metaphysical novels I’ve ever read.

And, it’s framed as a detective thriller.

Del Farmer ain’t your ordinary hardboiled, private dick. Instead of collecting fingerprints, he collects the souls of the recently departed to help his investigation of the Association, a mob outfit right out of Richard Stark’s Point Blank.

Farmer keeps all these souls in his” brain hotel” and if a particular skill set is required, he’d let the right dead man for the job control his bod to get it done.

Quel perverse! Sartre meets Sam Spade.

See, some years back, journalist Del was murdered by the Association. So, he has some motivation to see this case through. He had been picked up by a soul collector who, when he decided to walk towards the light, handed the keys to the brain hotel over to him.

The idea may be a tad too unique for mainstream audiences. But, the budget doesn’t have to be too big. An Indie perhaps? A Dexter styled series? Who knows, maybe the French will pick it up.

They are a country of philosophy majors.

7. Vixen by Ken Bruen

I’m a big time Bruen fan. Hell, I love noir. But, this guy serves it up nice and lean for a change. And, I sure as hell don’t wanna see the knife he used to do it with.

Here’s a Whitman Sampler from Vixen:

A loud bang went off in Doyle’s ear and he instinctively pushed the phone away. When the noise had subsided he asked:

‘Was that it?’

He heard a low chuckle, then:

‘Whoops, the timing was a little off but we’ll be working on that. What you have to work on is getting three hundred grand together to make sure we don’t bomb again. I mean, that’s not a huge amount, is it? So you get started on that and we’ll try not to blow up anything else in the meantime. We’ll give you a bell tomorrow and see how you’re progressing. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the movie playing at the Paradise was a Tom Cruise piece of shit so we kind of did the public a service. You be good now.’

Sold yet?

Then read the fooking book. This ain’t a fooking library.

Vixen is U.K. Noir with the sexiest, ruthless, female serial killer/ bombmaking/blackmailer that ever plagued England!

Trying to capture her is London’s gritty answer to Ed McBain’s 87th Precinct, the bent (in all the various definitions of the word) coppers led by the amicably amoral Inspector Brant.

Unfortunately, one of his bent coppers, Elizabeth Falls, gets into a bit of a far too unhealthy relationship with the witchy woman they’re pursuing.

Thus, we have two great, demented female roles up for grabs.

Thankfully, Hollywood has already sat up and noticed Bruen. His London Boulevard has started filming with The Departed scribe, William Monahan, directing Colin Farrell and Keira Knightley.

The script for Blitz, currently in pre-production, has been reviewed here on Script Shadow. Worth the search, Mate.

8. Positively 4th Street by David Hajdu

Imagine Next Stop, Greenwich Village mixed with Bound For Glory.

Uh, not really, but writing ten book reports in a row is starting to get awfully hard! It’s showing right?!! Damned slave driver, Carson. I told him six books. Six fucking books. But, No…….!!!!

Okay, where was I?

Yup, I’m pitching another music bio. But, this time, it’s a four way street.

For you youngsters who have no clue about the title, 4th street chronicles the 60s folk music scene with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Richard and Mimi Farina going from playing tiny coffee houses to inspiring an entire generation of young lefties like me.

You’d think it would be Dylan, but the most fascinating and filmable character in this bio pic is Richard Farina, the bohemian poet who often got lost in own web of roguish tall tales. He married Joan’s sister, Mimi, the haunting beauty when she was just seventeen. He, like Dylan, had of course, courted both sisters.

With my mental moviola, I can shut my eyes and imagine the scene where he has to talk his jealous, teenaged bride out of shooting him with his own pistol.

Or the scene of Baez, barefoot in the rain, debuting at the Newport Folk Festival and becoming an overnight sensation.

Or the ones of Dylan playing his headgames on the fragile Joan would just make great cinema.

Four fucking great roles. There’s more then enough talent, egos and love triangles to work with. To get a small taste how charismatic and magnetic Farina was, please click here.

9. The Catcher Was A Spy by Nicholas Dawidoff

Think The Pride of The Yankees meets The Tailor of Panama.

Sports and Spies. Now, that’s a doubleheader.

Moe Berg was neither an exceptional ball player nor an exceptional operative, but this story would have made a nice project for the Coen Brothers. Hell, it’s pretty much Burn After Reading with the Yiddishisms of A Serious Man.

Berg was definitely the smartest guy ever on the ball field. He graduated from Princeton and Columbia Law School. He claimed to read ten newspapers a day and was fluent in a dozen languages. Guess he had the time, as he spent most of his major league career for the Dodgers and the Sox on the bench.

But, baseball brought Berg to Japan and after Pearl Harbor, his home movies of that trip landed him some intelligence gigs for the OSS. A nice, Jewish ballplayer working for Wild Bill Donovan, trying to capture Nazis seems pretty irresistible. No?

So, the catcher parachutes into Yugolsavia and would hop around Europe on assignment to kidnap any scientists he could find.

He apparently didn’t catch any.

And, when the Cold War heated up, he sold the same Schtick to the CIA, to bring over Russian scientists.

He apparently came up short there too. Both times, however, he stuck the taxpayers with some rather hefty expenses.

After baseball and the spy game, Berg spent the rest of his life, pretty much freeloading off friends and family. Trading these great stories for meals and a night on the couch.

Berg turned out to be a charming guy who talked a dammed good game, but was pretty much a flake and a fraud.

Or was he?

His big fish boastings (real, imagined or just a wee bit embellished) would be a hoot to watch. Unfortunately, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind might have killed any hope of this bio ever getting to the silver screen.

Cause, how many movies about entertainers with a secret spy life can they make?

10. A Confederacy Of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

They’re probably gonna screw it up. They’re probably gonna screw it up. They’re probably gonna screw it up. They’re probably gonna screw it up.

But, what the Hell? Ya might as well try, try try.

No pressure, Suits. You’ll just piss off a loyal legion of fans and the whole city of New Orleans if you do screw it up.

Many have tried and failed. From Harold Ramis to direct John Belushi in the 80s. And Brit wit, Stephen Fry, taking a whack at the screenplay in the 90s. Both John Candy and Chris Farley have also been cast at various times, making the project seem positively cursed.

Last I heard, things were all set to shoot with a Soderbergh script, David Gordon Green directing and Will Ferrell to wear the famous green, flapped hunting cap.

He’s gonna have to pack on a few pounds to properly play the role. Cause, it’s a huge role in sooooo many aspects.

Dunces is not only a cult classic comedy but considered a true cannon of Southern Lit. It also comes with a rather tragic backstory. The manuscript was literally fished out of the garbage by Toole’s mom after the author had committed suicide. It took 11 years to get it published, championed by writer Walker Percy (One must read the moving forward he wrote for the book) and would then go on to posthumously win the Pulitzer Prize.

All without the help of Oprah.

Thus, sans Oprah, the movie can now simply be titled: Dunces – Not, Dunces: Based on The Novel, A Confederacy of Dunces By John Kennedy Toole.

Damned mouthful, Oprah.

Okay, I digressed. Like Catcher in the Rye, this is a lot of folk’s all time favorite read. Something you can return to year after year and still end up smiling and laughing out loud.

It’s set during the swinging sixties in New Orleans, a place that has known a lot about swinging since its foundation. All hell breaks loose when Ignatius Jacques Reilly goes with his mom to the department store to buy a string for his lute.

His hysterical run in with the store’s policeman starts this picaresque adventure as Reilly travels further down New Orleans’ underbelly in search of a job, meeting some of the most colorful characters this side of the Catalogue of Cool.

Percy describes Ignatius as a “slob extraordinary, a mad Oliver Hardy. a fat Don Quixote, a perverse Thomas Aquinas rolled into one.” He is the most stubborn, misanthropic, intestinally challenged, pop-culture loathing anti-hero literature has ever seen.

So, who the hell is good enough to be able to play that? Cast your votes here.

Zach Galifianakis? He is a southerner after all.

Guys, if you do manage to pull off this adaptation, we’re gonna sell a ton of green, flapped, hunting caps this Halloween.

Genre: Comedy
Premise: (from IMDB) A married man is granted the opportunity to have an affair by his wife. Joined in the fun by his best pal, things get a little out of control when both wives start engaging in extramarital activities as well.
About: Sold all the way back in 2005 for a high six-figure sum to Fox, this spec was subsequently put into turnaround and snatched up by New Line. Owen Wilson, Alyssa Milano, Jenna Fischer, and Christina Applegate will star in this new Farrelly Brothers comedy (filming now). Probably the most interesting aspect about this project though, is that it was written by Pete Jones! My fellow Chicagoan is best known as the writer-director on the first season of Affleck and Damon’s “Project Greenlight” reality series – a series where they set out to prove that Hollywood was doing it wrong and, in the process, proved that Hollywood was…umm…not doing it wrong. But kudos to Mr. Jones for staying the course.
Writer: Pete Jones (revisions by Bobby and Peter Farrelly, Kevin Barnett, and Pete Jones)
Details: 123 pages (Sept 18, 2009 draft)

Do the Farrelly Brothers still have it?? These guys directed two of my favorite comedies of all time, “Dumb and Dumber” and “There’s Something About Mary.” When they get it right they reallllyyyy get it right. But sometimes I wonder if this duo has lost their drive. I get the feeling that they’re trying, but they’re not putting in the same “our careers depend on it” passion they used to when they were younger. That may change when they take on what potentially could be the most difficult adaptation of the decade – their interpretation of “The Three Stooges.” I know you’re probably a lot more interested in that project than this one, but for whatever reason, I can’t bring myself to read it. It just sounds so…impossible to turn into a film. So we’ll stick with Hall Pass for today.

Hall Pass follows Fred Searing and Rick Miles, two guys in their early 40s who are smack dab in the middle of life. They have kids. They have wives who don’t give a shit how they look anymore. And of course they don’t get nearly as much sex as they want. This results in a daily routine of going out and admiring much younger much sexier women and thinking about how it “used to be.” Oh if they were on the prowl again. What damage they could do.

In the meantime, Grace and Maggie, the wives, aren’t exactly living the high life either. Taking care of the kids and keeping the family above water on a daily basis has taken its toll, and it’s clear that their marriages need something, some spark, to reinvigorate them. And it’s during a therapy session that Maggie gets the answer. Her therapist suggests giving her husband a “hall pass,” a free pass away from the marriage to do anything he wants, cheat, lie, steal, whatever. Maggie’s horrified by the idea but the therapist assures her that what most men realize when they get the opportunity to do whatever they want, is that they never really wanted to do it in the first place. Maggie discusses it with Grace, and the two reluctantly hand their husbands that most coveted of all treasures – FREEDOM!

In the meantime, the two gals will go hang out up at the summer home, allowing the men to have the lay of the land without interference. Fred and Rick can’t believe their luck. And the news spreads like wildfire. Soon, all of their friends are rushing over, wanting to witness the magical event firsthand. How many girls can they have sex with in a week? Ten? Twenty??

Well, as you can imagine, things don’t go exactly as planned. The structure of the script turns into a day by day breakdown of their attempts, superimposing a “Day X” at the beginning of each morning. Rick and Fred realize that, hey wait a minute, picking up women is hard. And now that there’s actually pressure to *do* something instead of just *saying* they’re going to do something, it’s like, really hard. Not to mention they don’t exactly have the stomachs and the hair that they used to. Each day of “picking up women,” therefore, ends in pathetic failure, making them feel even worse than if they’d never gotten a hall pass in the first place.

To make matters worse, their wives realize, hey, if the guys aren’t officially married to *them* anymore, then they must not be married either, which means they can experience a little Desperate Housewives action of their own. So they head over to Maggie’s father’s minor league baseball team and start swooning over the hot young baseball studs, which leads to all sorts of temptation. Will they cave? Will the guys cave? Does anyone really want to cheat?

The question with Hall Pass is bigger than the movie itself. Does this concept work? I read essentially the same script in the spec sale “Permission” as well as another similar concept that sold (which I’m blanking on). The main problem is, because it’s a comedy, there’s only so far you can go with the cheating. At the end of the movie, your characters have to get back together. Therefore they can’t have 48 hour monkey orgy sex before casually sliding back into their marriages. So there’s a certain limit to the hijinx one can experience, and as a result, the concept always feels neutered. That said, the characters in Hall Pass went a lot further than I thought they would, which makes this script a little edgier than its counterparts.

One thing I kinda dug about Hall Pass though was the restraint the Farrelly’s showed. These guys would cover two people in grape jelly and throw them off the Empire State Building if they thought it would get a laugh. But here they seem to be interested in a more realistic tone. Does that mean, gasp, they’re finally growing up? I don’t know if I’d go that far, but you can definitely feel that in this particular story, they’re drawing more from their own lives than they have any movie they’ve made before. And that’s always the best way to go as a writer – explore things that personally intrigue you. It always adds a level of authenticity you wouldn’t get otherwise. So that was kind of neat to see the Farrelly’s do.

Having said that, I wish they would’ve exploited their concept more. The second act becomes a victim of something we’re all guilty of at some point or another: redundancy. The guys try to pick up girls and they fail. So they try to pick up more girls and they fail. So they try and pick up MORE girls and they fail. After awhile it just feels like we’re stalling while we wait for the third act. I know the Farrelly’s purposefully write their scripts long so they can film as much crazy shit as possible, allowing them to get as many laughs as they can into the flick. But as a read, everything was way too spread out, and the lack of laughs really killed the momentum. It’s a great reminder that for our purposes, as spec script writers, we aren’t afforded that luxury, and need to keep our second acts lean, packing as much story and action as we can into the same space.

I’ll wait til the movie comes out before passing final judgment. But the script wasn’t for me.

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

What I learned: Here’s a great screenwriting tip for beginners. If you introduce a bunch of characters all at once, count on us forgetting at least half of them. For example, we’re quickly introduced to four of Rick and Fred’s friends during a poker game. But I couldn’t tell you anything about them five pages later. Why? Because it’s hard to remember everyone in a screenplay. Yet beginner writers think they can throw down 20 names in 20 pages and we’ll have everyone sorted out down to their hair color. It doesn’t work like that. Now there are situations (like a poker game for example) where introducing characters in bulk is necessary. But my advice is to not introduce any key characters during these moments. If it’s a recurring or important character, introduce them away from the group if possible. It’ll give us a much better chance of remembering them.