Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, your title, genre, logline, and finally, why I should read your script. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Your script will be posted if reviewed. 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: Thriller/Drama/Horror
Premise: (from writer) A mother grieving the loss of her son becomes obsessed with a runaway boy who turns out to be vampire.
About: That’s right. It’s back from the dead. The Gauntlet. Except I’m changing the name to The Smackdown. Because amateur smackdowns are badass. The rules are the same: Two scripts enter, one script leaves. Why is this happening? A couple of weeks ago, you guys voted on the best of the 5 Amateur Offerings. But the votes were too close to count. So instead of picking one, I decided to review both – The Turning Season today. And Monster Mash tomorrow. Who’s going to win? That’s up to you!
Writer: Monique Matta
Details: 91 pages

I looked over at my assistant after reading this and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to write about this.” The Turning Season is a sharply written horror script that actually emphasizes the emotional component, something I rarely see on the amateur front. It has a few intriguing mysteries driving the story and contains little, if any, fat in it. The characters are well-rounded. There’s lots of depth. The dialogue’s solid. For all intents and purposes, it displays a very professional polish.

But I’m not quite connecting to the story and I’m not sure why. I’d point out that vampires aren’t my thing, but a lot like “Let The Right One In,” this isn’t really a vampire movie. It’s more of a small town drama procedural, with a little vampire thrown in for good measure. Could that be what’s bothering me? I can’t identify what the movie is? Or maybe it’s missing that elusive X-Factor. I haven’t figured it out. Maybe by going through the synopsis, I’ll find the answer.

40-something married couple Joe and Emily Hollis have lived in the aftermath of their son’s disappearance for seven years now. Each of them handles it differently. Joe (police chief of this small town) focuses on work, on the present, on the things he can control. Emily, on the other hand, can’t go a minute without thinking about her son. She lives in the past. This provides plenty of conflict in the Hollis household, conflict amplified by Emily’s obsession with this being her fault. She’s the one who lost her son in the crowd that day. She’s responsible for this mess.

This situation becomes even more discombobulated when a lost boy shows up at their door who looks like their son. But their son seven years ago. Not their son now, who would be 16 years old. Because of the resemblance, Emily takes a liking to the boy, insisting to her husband that they let him stay the night. But in the middle of the night he runs away. Emily tells Joe to get the station after him, but the little boy becomes the least of Joe’s worries when one of his cops, Caleb, is killed.

But not just killed – sucked dry of his blood. And he’s not the only one. There are a few local cows in the area that have been sucked dry as well. I guess they didn’t moooo-ve fast enough. But shit gets REALLY real when Joe’s mistress is killed. Now the local cops have the state crawling up their asses, trying to figure out what’s going on.

Amongst all of this, our little lost boy hides out in Joe and Emily’s barn where he feeds off of the rats. Or I should say, feeds off of their BLOOD. (not-so-surprising spoiler if you’ve read the logline) Yes, it turns out the reason all these human and animal carcasses are “sans blood” is because our little runaway is a vampire. But the real question is, what’s his connection to Emily? Why is he so obsessed with her? And how does he know things that only her son could know?

Okay, after laying out the synopsis, I think I understand what bothered me. This script isn’t enough about Emily and the boy. I mean it’s right there in the premise. A mother becomes obsessed with a runaway boy who looks like her son. I like that premise. I want to see that premise explored. But that premise really isn’t what this is about. We get to know the boy in that early scene where he comes to the house, but then he disappears and doesn’t come back until the end of the story.

Typically, the way these kinds of movies work is the boy will move in. They’ll clean him up. He’ll adapt. Everything’s perfect. But then creepy weird things start happening. He starts acting weird. Evilness tends to happen whenever he’s around. And eventually, the parents learn the kid is a dangerous mother*cker.

This formula allows you to build plenty of scares into the story AND explore that emotional component between the child and the parent (see “Mama”). We can see Emily become obsessed with the boy, start believing (against all reason) that he’s her son. We can see the love build between them. We can see her getting too attached. We can question whether she’s going mad or if the boy might actually be her son. And then it all goes to hell in the end.

Not only does this direction give us more bang for our buck, but it also stays true to the logline. I mean at a certain point near the middle of the script, I think 30 pages had gone by since I’d last seen the boy. I just don’t know if you’re getting the most out of your idea by dumping him in the background. Then again, that’s just my interpretation. Monique may have been going after something different here. Though I’d be interested to see if she ever considered this route, and why she chose not to pursue it.

There were a few small things that threw me as well. Initially, it was unclear if the woman in the beginning was Emily Hollis or not. Her name’s not given, but a couple of scenes later, we meet Emily, presumably a few years after the scene. It’s mentioned that she lost her boy years ago. Naturally, I made the connection, then, that she must have been that woman from that scene. It’s eventually cleared up, but you never want your reader thinking anything you don’t want them to think, even if it’s just for a few scenes. Always clarify things that could be confusing.

Speaking of, I didn’t know this was a snowy town in the middle of winter until way too late. This seems to be a key atmospheric detail Monique wanted to convey. A cold dreary snowy town has a different vibe from, say, a hot sunny one. But If you don’t make clear the season in your script, the reader usually assumes summer. Snow isn’t mentioned until page 40 here. It should’ve been mentioned right off the bat. These are little things. But the details matter when writing a script. The details are often what turn a good script into a great one.

In the end, I think more emphasis could’ve been put on the boy and Emily. That’s where you’re going to get your most scares and that’s the relationship that’s going to pay off the most. Still, this was very professionally written, so much so that I almost recommend it for that alone. But I just needed more from the story side to take this to “worth the read” level. Here’s hoping Monique will get there with the next draft. ☺

Script link – The Turning Season

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

What I learned: WHERE you place something along your timeline can significantly alter the way the drama plays out. Near the end of The Turning Season, Emily finds out that her husband, police chief Joe, has a mistress, Nancy. Soon after, Nancy is killed. There’s nothing wrong with the placement of these events. But let’s take a look at what could’ve happened if we’d placed Nancy’s murder earlier. Now the cops have to do an investigation into Nancy’s death (where she hangs out, the men in her life, etc.) and Joe doesn’t want that information to get out, since his affair with her would be discovered and his marriage potentially ruined. This forces him to lie, which hampers the investigation, potentially leading them away from the real danger here, the mysterious homeless boy. I’m not saying this is the “better” way to go. I’m just pointing out how severely it changes the dramatic impact of the event. So always ask yourself that question: How does it change things if I place this key event earlier (or later)?

Today’s writer found a way into the business writing in a genre he was passionate about, despite that genre being a tough sell. Should you do the same?

Genre: Drama/Biopic
Premise: How a young unemployed Marlon Brando got his breakthrough role in the classic Tennessee Williams play, “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
About: Recently, unknown screenwriter Tom Shepard, who worked as a waiter, secured an assignment on one of the bigger projects in town, a biopic about Al Capone starring Tom Hardy (I erroneously listed this as a biopic about Al Pacino in my newsletter – now that would’ve been interesting). The details of the story are listed at Deadline. Basically, while he WAS a repped writer, Shepherd had yet to do anything in the profession. Then he wrote this script on spec, which got onto last year’s Black List, and I suppose they saw a complexity in the way he explored Brando they thought he could do the same for with Al Capone. We’ll have to wait and see if he got it right!
Writer: Tom Shepard
Details: 123 pages

I don’t know about these biopic scripts. I just don’t. I mean, it seems kind of like cheating. You just pick a famous figure in history and tell their story. Assuming you tell it competently, fans of that person will want to read it. I won’t want to read it. I need more to enjoy a biopic. In addition to a fascinating character, I need a fascinating story. Yet most writers writing biopics aren’t telling stories (which takes skill), but recounting a life (which takes only research). So I see this logline and I think….ehh, I already know what this is. I already know where this is going. Write a script about Michael Jackson, about Jim Morrison, about Gandhi, about Bruce Springstein. All you have to do is research the people you have yourself a script. But where’s the drama? Where’s the story?

Waiter Tom Shepard wisely took another avenue. He decided to tell the STORY of how Brando got his famous breakout role, the part of Stanley in “A Streetcar Named Desire.” It wasn’t a biopic biopic. It was a sneaky biopic focusing on a pivotal moment in the character’s life. Which, in my opinion, is the best way to do it. But did it succeed? Unlike 42, where I already knew the broad strokes of the story and was therefore never surprised, I have to admit I know nothing about Brando’s early acting career, and even less about how he got the role that turned him into a star. To be honest, I didn’t even know this WAS his first major acting role. So I was kinda curious how that all played out.

It’s 1947 and 24 year-old Marlon Brando is more focused on where he’s going to get his next meal than how he’s going to find his next role. And here I thought “Starving Artist” was just a little phrase actors liked to joke about. Apparently there REALLY ARE starving artists. Like they’re desperate for food. Such was Brando’s life at the time, where he was seen as a young talented actor, but also misguided, a bit of a mumbler, and a little strange.

In another part of New York City, director Elia Kazan is trying to put together a cast for Tennessee Williams’ amazing play, “A Streetcar Named Desire.” It’s a tricky proposition because his boss, the witch-like Irene Selznick (divorced wife of David O. Selznick) doesn’t want Kazan to direct. The only reason he’s on is because Tennessee likes him. But Irene is only allowing the two to have so much fun. She’s got one major rule for this production: Kazan has to cast a star in the role of Stanley. If that doesn’t happen, he’s getting fired.

The thing is, Kazan doesn’t like any of the stars Irene’s throwing his way. Burt Lancaster sure is a heartthrob and fits the look, but the part of Stanley is way more than looks. We have a man who rapes the female lead. There has to be a darkness to him, troubled eyes that make you believe in a moment like this. And Kazan is having a hard time finding that quality.

That is until he hears about Brando, for all intents and purposes a bit of a doof, but a doof that runs through women faster than a German Blitzkrieg. And yet no matter how many of these women he fucks over, they all want to come back to him. They all want more. THAT’S the quality Kazan needs, so he comes to Brando’s home and asks if he’ll give him an audition.

Kazan falls for Brando immediately but knows that if he’s going to slip him past Irene, he’s going to need Tennessee’s blessing. Tennessee is a piece of work himself. Famously gay, he had Brando come over and do the rape scene, with HIMSELF playing the role of Blanche (the rape victim). The scene turns out so hot that Tennessee is all in for Brando. But now comes the real test – seeing if the snobby Braodway crowd will accept this unknown in such a big part. Brando will have to channel the man he equally loves and detests the most, his heartless father, to play the role in a way that will make it work, a tightrope that may be too thin to navigate when it’s all said and done.

“Hey Stella” was a fairly decent screenplay. What I liked most about it was its portrayal of Brando. Everyone knows this guy had some serious issues, and by exploring his relationships with his mom, father, girlfriend, lover, best friend, and acting teacher, we get to see how all those issues came about. You feel like the weight of the world is on his shoulders whenever he wakes up in the morning. There’s a happiness you’re desperate for Brando to achieve, even though deep down you know it’s impossible. That this is a broken man who cannot be fixed. It’s the reason why he was such an amazing actor, but also why he was so terrible at life.

This reminded me that a great way to explore the depth of a character is to see him through multiple relationships. Each one peels back a layer that we couldn’t have seen through any of the other relationships. His relationship with his father taught us how important it was for him to please this man. His relationship with his mother taught us how much he wanted to be loved. His relationship with Ellen, his girlfriend, taught us how destructive he could be towards others. His relationship with his best friend and roommate, Wally, taught us how loving he could be. His relationship with Stella, his acting coach, taught us how dedicated he was to the craft of acting.

I so often tell young writers that their stories and their characters lack depth. Well, using relationships to explore different sides of your character is one way to fix that.

Much like “42,” “Hey Stella” doesn’t just focus on Brando’s coming out party, it also leads us into Kazan’s, the director’s. Kazan has the perfect wife, and yet he constantly cheats on her with his mistress. His battles with Irene and desire to get the right actor to play Stanley are all fairly interesting. But truth be told, his life wasn’t nearly as compelling as Brando’s, and therefore whenever I was with him, I wanted to get back to Brando.

The script moves along at a nice clip, with the goal of Brando trying to get the part of Stanley keeping us invested. But instead of the drama of getting that part ramping up in the final act, it seemed to dissolve. Instead of Irene slamming her fists down and demanding she get her way with the star actor, she just sort of accepts Brando and fades into the background. This wasn’t true to her character and it made for a lazy ending that ran out of steam. We needed the stakes and the conflict at their highest in the third act, for Irene to be more present and dominant as she tried to stop the play. Instead we get the opposite.

In the end, this was a neat little script with some nice info on how Brando got the part in “A Streetcar Named Desire.” But outside of Brando’s character, everything and everyone was a little too soft, a little too blasé, a little too light on the drama. The script suffered the consequences of this issue most in its final act, when the story faded away harmlessly. I think “Hey Stella” is worth reading because of the Brando element. I just wish the story had a little more kick to it.

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

What I learned: We all know I’m not a huge fan of biopics. Or I should say, I’m not a huge fan of the way most biopics are written. I think they’d be better off if the writers approached them as a story instead of a documentary, which “Hey Stella” did a fairly decent job of. Regardless of all that, this reminded me that you should write in the genre that you want to spend the rest of your career writing. The specs themselves may not sell, as was the case here, but it got Shepherd paid work on his genre of choice, the biopic, since he’d proven himself in the genre already. I still think you should always give yourself the best opportunity possible by making your script as marketable as it can be, but in the end, you should be writing in the genre you feel the most passionate about.

John Carter is one of most extensively developed projects in Hollywood history. You know how non-Hollywood folks are shocked when you tell them that a movie took ten years to get to the big screen? Try 80 years! While it’d take forever to go through the details of all this development, more recently the project saw itself as a Go picture when famed Aint-it-cool-news film lover Harry Knowles came on as an advisor. Through his influence, “The Cell” and “I Am Legend” screenwriter Mark Protosevich was brought on to write the script. Harry showed the finished draft to his buddy Robert Rodriquez, who then signed on to direct the film. But everything fell apart when Rodriquez angered the Director’s Guild (and the Hollywood community in general) by giving the directorally uninvolved Frank Miller a co-directing credit on his film Sin City (the Director’s Guild hates giving out co-credits in general. They’d prefer every movie be directed by one person). Forced to drop out of the Director’s Guild, it became difficult to clear certain production hurdles without a guild signatory. Rodriquez dropped off the project and a slew of new writers came in over the next seven years (as well as the project going back to Disney), until we got the current draft, written by Andrew Stanton, Mark Andrews, and Michael Chabon. The film went on to dramatically underperform at the box office ($73 million domestic on what was reportedly a $250 million dollar budget), resulting in the ouster of Disney Studios chairman Rich Ross. For all these reasons, we’ll be studying John Carter for how NOT to write a screenplay. The biggest problem with the story is clearly its overly complicated plotting, so that’s where I’ll be spending most of my focus on.

1) Concepts need to make sense, even in the sci-fi world – Your concept has to make sense, as it is the pillar responsible for holding your entire story up. John Carter is about a guy who magically travels to Mars where he becomes mixed up in an alien war. Except everyone on Earth knows that Mars is dead. There’s no air, no water, no alien factions running around. So we know this couldn’t happen. Since we know this couldn’t happen, we never believe in or care about anything that happens after it.

2) The more overly complicated your world, the simpler your plot should be – Star Wars may be a complex world, but it always kept its plotting simple. They needed to get the stolen plans to the good guys. The bad guys were chasing after them to stop that. John Carter has a complex world AND a complex plot – a deadly mix. There are parallel storylines in John Carter, four different planetary factions (two human and two alien), a weird sub-race of cloaked bald men, a secret arm weapon, something called “helium” that’s dying, a princess refusing to get married. We never really know what anyone is trying to do. Most sci-fi movies that succeed, even if they have extensive world building, counteract that complexity by having very simple plots.

3) There’s a fine line between intrigue and confusion– This is a mistake I see amateur writers make way too often. They’ll introduce a ton of weird stuff, but be unclear what the weird stuff is or why it’s being included, indicating that if you “stay tuned,” you’ll find out. Here, the weird bald-headed dudes who can shape-shift into different people (for no reason) hand Angry Flying Ship Guy a laser-wrist cannon. It’s supposed to be this huge moment, but the writer doesn’t imply why or how this changes anything besides the fact that Angry Flying Ship Guy can now shoot people with his wrist in addition to shooting people with his ship cannon. The writer mistakes this as “intrigue,” a curious twist in the plot that the audience will want to know more about. But the audience instead is confused by it, which leads to annoyance and eventually, rejection of the story. Intrigue is often simple (what are these mysterious plans inside R2-D2?). Confusion occurs when you try to cram too many jumbled elements together.

4) There is often a single dominant problem in a bad script that is leading to all its other problems. Find the problem and the other issues disappear – Here, it’s the over-plotting. There’s just too much damn plot. Had they fixed that, maybe focused exclusively on John Carter trying to get home, it would’ve erased so many of the script’s other issues.

5) Beware Unclear Urgency – If you’re going to write a sci-fi spec, it’s preferable that urgency is woven tightly into the plot. Star Wars has its heroes being chased throughout. District 9 had its hero turning into an alien, giving him only a few days to stop the transformation. John Carter of Mars has no urgency because its focus changes so many times. Without urgency, a story slows to a crawl, and you can’t get away with that in a summer action film. We need to feel like time is running out, that objectives need to be reached RIGHT AWAY. John Carter never achieves this, which led to one of its biggest criticisms – that it was “way too slow.”

6) The more convoluted your plot, the more scenes of exposition you will have. The more scenes of exposition you have, the more boring your script will be — John Carter suffers greatly from this. It has multiple plotlines (Helium being needed, alien baby harvesting, princesses who need to get married, multiple aliens, a confusing war, a character who needs to get home, etc). This puts a lot of stress on the writer to keep all this stuff clear for the audience, which means constantly stopping and reminding them what’s going on via exposition scenes. Which of course leads to boredom. Keep your sci-fi plot simple, as it allows for more time spent entertaining your audience.

7) A dramatic score isn’t going to magically fix a scene that isn’t working – I think us writers get carried away, imagining our key scenes on the big screen with that epic swelling score playing. When we do this, the amazing music starts to cover up all the problems inherent in the scene, problems we then become blind to. There’s this ridiculous scene in John Carter where he jumps into a group of 500 warrior aliens and, with the score rising dramatically, starts killing all of them. Uhhhhh, what??? Our hero can kill an entire army on his own??? Errr… no. But it sure looks like the writer thought it worked, as the score is practically willing us to believe. Stop using future scores to solve your issues and solve them on the page instead.

8) Reactive characters result in “yanked around” stories – Remember, reactive characters are pushed and pulled, yanked this way and that, slaves to the actions and desires of others. Therefore when you tell a story with a reactive hero, we feel the same way, like we’re being pushed and pulled, yanked and tugged, a slave to something beyond our control. While skilled writers can sometimes make this work, it more often results in a story that feels unfocused and all over the place. So it’s no surprise that’s how John Carter feels. Carter is reactive for most of the story, being pulled along by one alien faction or another, told what to do most of the time. As a result, the story never quite gains a foothold on what it wants to be. An active character on the other hand, one who chooses his own destiny, often results in a clean, focused, easy-to-follow story. This is why I think they should’ve made the plot much simpler here: John Carter tries to find his way home. That way he always stays active. He always drives the story.

9) When building your set-pieces, don’t try and survive on spectacle. Instead, rely on cleverness – For all its huge budget, there really isn’t a single memorable set-piece in John Carter, and that’s because the set-pieces amount to a bunch of basic fighting sequences. Oftentimes, a clever offbeat set-piece can be a thousand times more interesting, such as the simplistic trash-compactor scene in Star Wars.

10) Don’t construct your set-piece scenes before the movie and then fit your story around them. Create your story first, and let your set-pieces emerge naturally from that story – There’s a trailer-friendly set-piece where John Carter is pulled into an arena and must fight against two giant alien apes to the death. Problem is, it’s forced into the script unnaturally. John Carter is captured by a random “bad” alien and the next thing we know he’s being tossed into an arena to fight for his life. Why this is happening is beyond us, but it feels like someone said they wanted a “Giant Ape Fighting Arena Scene” and were going to get it into the movie through hell or high water. Yes, you want trailer-friendly scenes, but not at the expense of taking the audience out of the story. They must fit into the movie organically. To achieve this, focus on your character’s goals and where they take you, then look for set-pieces to emerge naturally through that journey. Whenever you’ve thought of a set piece ahead of time and try to unnaturally squeeze it in, it always feels out of place.

Upstream Color will have to wait another week. So today’s script will take on one of the most famous baseball players in history. The question is, is he interesting enough to have a movie written about him?

Genre: Sports Drama
Premise: (from IMDB) The life story of Jackie Robinson and his history-making signing with the Brooklyn Dodgers under the guidance of team executive Branch Rickey.
About: Writer (and director of this film) Brian Helgeland, is the only screenwriter to win both an Oscar (for L.A. Confidential) and a Razzie (for The Postman) in the same year. While sticking mainly to writing, he does occasionally plop down in the director’s chair, such as when he directed Heath Ledger in the 2001 film, A Knight’s Tale (for which he also wrote the script – which sold for 2.5 million). Helgeland is one of Hollywood’s super-writers, brought in for million dollar rewrites when crap needs fixing (which is often). But this is a project he clearly wanted to be involved in from the beginning to the end. The film comes out this Friday and stars Harrison Ford as Jackie Robinson’s manager.
Writer: Brian Helgeland
Details: 125 pages (September 27, 2011 draft)

Man, there is a lot to talk about here. And I’m not even referring to the screenplay. First off, the sports drama is hard to pull off. Sports movies just don’t make money. So to see this splashed all over my TV and my neighborhood makes me think we’re talking AT LEAST a 70 million dollar marketing campaign. On top of the budget for the film, which was maybe 60 million, that means the movie has to clear 130 million just to meet its production and advertising budget (and since a movie has to make 3 times its budget to start making money, actually much more than that!)? Why do I have a hard time seeing 42 making that kind of money?

Then again, I have to admit, the trailers for this thing have been kick-ass. The marketing takes a 60 year old topic and makes it feel current and exciting. Despite that, I probably won’t see this until it comes out on Itunes. Which is surprising because I actually like baseball. I’d consider myself the core audience for the film. But Jackie Robinson’s story has been told so many times before. Why will this one be any different? What’s supposed to excite me about this new take besides the admittedly cool Jay-Z music in the trailer?

Then there’s the race angle. I don’t think race is an insignificant discussion by any means, but Jesus Christ has it been explored to death in cinema. I have to now endure another one of these cliché situations? There’s actually a lot of irony here because while this movie celebrates African-Americans breaking into baseball, we live in a time where African-Americans are becoming extinct in baseball. There are only a few dozen black baseball players left in the majors. They are gradually phasing out of the sport as the average African-American kid would rather play basketball or football. Baseball, for the most part, has become a Latino dominated game.

Then there’s just baseball in general. The sport is dying. It was created in a time where people actually had patience. Where they were willing to sit and watch a 3 hour game practically built to be boring. It’s been on a downward slope for awhile now. There’s really only one compelling story left in the sport in my opinion, and that’s “When are the Cubs going to win the World Series?” They better hope it never happens because as soon as it does, baseball is dead in my eyes.

So where does this leave my anticipation for 42? Not that high. I will say that these biopics are only as good as how interesting the main character is. If he’s complex, interesting, strange, has secrets, has demons, has personality, and lived an exciting life, put me in coach. But if this is just a by-the-book retelling of the most memorable moments from Jackie Robinson breaking into the major leagues, throw me out of the game.

Everyone knew 26 year old Jackie Robinson had the talent to play in the big leagues. But back in the 1940s, baseball was a white man’s game. I’m talking literally. Like there wasn’t a single black player in the league. And that’s because they weren’t allowed. There were even laws in some southern states where black men could not play baseball with white men. So if the cops were to see this, they’d arrest the black man (a scene that plays prominently in the movie).

Enter Branch Rickey, the owner of the New York Dodgers (yes, this is before they moved to Los Angeles). A little bit old, a little bit prickly, Rickey felt it was time that baseball had a black player. But he was unapologetic in saying he was just as interested in winning a world series. And he felt Jackie Robinson gave him the best chance of doing so.

While we expect this to be about Jackie’s anointment onto the Dodger team, most of the movie takes place before that monumental moment, back when he was playing for the Dodger’s Triple-A team. As he kicks ass in the minor leagues, word spreads that he’ll be coming to the Dodgers soon, and a lot of players don’t like it. In fact, a petition is put together for Branch Rickey from the entire Dodger team saying they won’t play if Jackie is brought up.

But Rickey doesn’t scare easily. He tells his players if they don’t want to play for him, no problem. He’ll trade’em. With that plan backfiring, Jackie does make his famed major league debut on April 15, 1946 and all the players but one are there to accept him. Well, “accept” might not be the correct word. As you’d expect, Jackie’s not exactly bombarded with Facebook friend requests upon his arrival. For the most part, everyone just tolerates him, and as one sportswriter puts it, Jackie has become the “loneliest man in baseball.”

But Jackie keeps fighting, doing the one thing he knows he does best – play baseball. And play it he does. His combination of strength and speed is like nothing baseball has ever seen. And with him leading the team, the Dodgers put themselves in position to do the unthinkable: Win the pennant. That’s if Jackie can weather the storm his entrance into the sport’s created.

This movie is called “42,” which stands for Jackie Robinson’s number. This movie is about Jackie Robinson. So if Jackie Robinson isn’t a compelling character, this movie is dead. And guess what? Jackie Robinson (in this draft at least) isn’t a compelling character. Now sure, the events surrounding him are compelling. Everything he goes through is compelling. But the character himself? Well, okay I’m just going to say it…he’s kinda boring.

I mean first his flaw is too simplistic. He’s a hot head. So wherever someone tests him, whenever some white Klansman-wannabe tells him to go back to the cotton field, Jackie must resist his first impulse, which is to beat the living hell out of the guy. This isn’t easy since it happens multiple times a day every day he’s in the big leagues. Hmm, I’m not sure how deeply that’s exploring our hero.

Second, he’s got zero personality. I mean ZERO. He just nods a lot, bristles a lot, keeps to himself a lot. He has no sense of humor, no compelling quirks. He’s just a super serious boring guy. This very well may have been how Jackie was and they didn’t want to mis-portray him, but that doesn’t mean he gets a passing grade. Boring is boring.

Finally, and most importantly, Jackie is not an active character. This entire movie is about how he reacts to what’s happening. He’s told he gets to be in the big leagues. He’s told how to handle it. Whenever someone tells him to do something, he does it. The character isn’t driving any apect of the story except for maybe the pennant race, which is given very little focus. Look at two other famous African-Americans in history, Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. These are people who were ACTIVE. Who DID things. Jackie Robinson was thrown into a situation and we watched how he reacted. And for whatever reason, his reaction just isn’t that compelling.

In fact, I would argue that Branch Rickey (played by Harrison Ford) is the main character here. He’s the one who made the decision, who has the most at stake, who’s driving the story with his choices. And that’s fine. It’s cool to know more about this person who played a big part in the Jackie Robinson story. But this movie isn’t called “Branch Rickey.” So why the hell does he get more attention as a character than Jackie?

Then there’s the structure. So much of the movie is leading up to this moment when Jackie joins the team, that after it happens, I’m not really sure why I’m watching anymore. I mean, it’s interesting to see the kind of resistance he runs into (even if it’s predictable), but we’ve already covered a lot of this while he was in the minor leagues. After awhile, I got impatient and asked, “Where is this going?” Eventually, this late-emerging pennant-race storyline popped up and I just sort of went with it. But since it wasn’t given a lot of emphasis, it lacked that engine that really drove our interest.

That’s not to say the script was bad. It had a strong, if a little safe, voice to it. There were a few nice moments, such as when the Phillies manager came out on the field and, in front of the world, reporters and all, told Jackie he was a monkey and to go back to the cotton fields. THE PHILLIES MANAGER. Not some player. That one stuck out. But because Jackie Robinson himself was so bland, and so reactive, I was never truly invested in the screenplay.

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

What I learned: I’ll say this until the day I die. It doesn’t matter how interesting a person’s life is. If the person themselves isn’t interesting, don’t write a movie about them.

This is your chance to discuss the week’s amateur scripts, offered originally in the Scriptshadow newsletter. The primary goal for this discussion is to find out which script(s) is the best candidate for a future Amateur Friday review. The secondary goal is to keep things positive in the comments with constructive criticism.

Below are the scripts up for review, along with the download links. Want to receive the scripts early? Head over to the Contact page, e-mail us, and “Opt In” to the newsletter.

Happy reading!

SCI-FI WEEK!

TITLE: Operation Vertigo
GENRE: Sci-Fi Thriller
LOGLINE: In 2049, a government employee is wrenched into an anarchist plot to destabilize a dystopian U.S. government.
Why You Should Read (from writer): “This screenplay is 1984 meets North By Northwest, by way of V For Vendetta, with a splash of Breaking Bad for good measure. It’s set in a realistic future, one not all that different from 2013, where the dystopian elements of society hide under bridges and behind CIA doors. It uses the classic Hitchcock trope of an ordinary man thrust into an extraordinary situation.”

TITLE: Technophoria
GENRE: Sci-Fi/Fantasy Action Adventure
LOGLINE: When his dream girl is abducted and taken into cyberspace, a young genius must journey to the furthest reaches of the digital universe to save her.

TITLE: TIME & TIME AGAIN
GENRE: Sci-fi
LOGLINE: Only one man can help fiery-tempered Louis save multiple universes from destruction and rescue his kidnapped wife… her lover.

TITLE: Alien Prime
GENRE: Sci-fi
LOGLINE: A boy becomes best friends with an alien that his parents find and protect from the military. When they become adults, he realizes the Alien is the key to an invasion of Earth and he is the only one who can stop the alien.