Netflix throws their hat in the ring for original programming. But is this Spacey and Fincher f*cking around with a desperate new company’s money? Or is this show actually good?
Genre: Political Drama (TV)
Premise: (from IMDB) Francis Underwood is Majority Whip. He has his hands on every secret in politics – and is willing to betray them all to become President.
About: David Fincher went looking for a writer for this project 3 years ago. He came upon “Ides of March” scribe Beau Willimon, who excited him with his desire to cherry-pick the best parts of the original UK show then reinvent everything else for the American audience. This is Netflix’s first original show, a show that bucked the traditional TV release model and released all 13 episodes at once.
Creator: Beau Willimon
Writer of pilot: Beau Willimon (based on the 1990 TV series by Andrew Davies and Michael Dobbs)
Details: 60 minutes long
Kevin Spacey. David Fincher. How bad can it be? As bad as the writer allows it to be. So who wrote it? Beau Willimon. Wait a minute? Beau WHO?? Chances are, you don’t know that name. Well, I can tell you he wrote a hell of a screenplay (Farragut North – which ended up becoming “The Ides Of March”) that made the Black List in 2007 and which I reviewed a couple of years ago. Outside of that, I don’t think Beau’s done much. In that sense, he’s really lucky that Ides got made (for five years it was deader than Hugo Chavez) because if it didn’t, he would’ve never got an opportunity like this, which appears to be the opportunity of a lifetime.
You get to write a show that has the biggest budget on television (over 4 million bucks an episode) for a new network that’s spending outrageous money solely to make a splash in an industry that’s kicking every other industry’s ass. Yup. That’s why I’m reviewing a TV pilot today (and plan to review more). Everyone wants to get into TV. All my writer friends are ditching the pie in the sky spec sale scenario and moving into television. Like it or not – this is where all the writing heat is these days.
And what better way to celebrate that than by checking out the pilot for House of Cards, a project that probably would’ve never been made if it wasn’t for Netflix. The show is different. It’s risky. And it takes on subject matter that’s typically ignored unless your name’s Aaron Sorkin (people don’t like to see their politics dramatized. They prefer the real-life stuff. Case in point – check out how Ides of March did, despite great writing and a high profile cast).
If you’re like me, you might’ve been worried about a couple of other things, as well. First, that this was a Kevin Spacey vanity project. We all know how those turn out (Beyond The Sea). Fincher directing alleviated some of that, but I was also worried about this being something every other network passed on but Netflix was so desperate to work with some top names that they let Spacey and Fincher come in with their garbage and use them to make a weird show nobody wanted to see. “Ha ha” they’d say, as they stole 50 million dollars from this clueless video rental company.
Anyway, House of Cards follows Francis Underwood, a congressman who’s been cleaning up messes for his party for 30 years. He’s paid his dues. He’s done his time. And now he’s backed the perfect candidate, who’s gone ahead and become president. His reward for all this? Secretary of State, a position he’ll surely get as he’s responsible for everyone on the president’s team (including the president himself) having a job.
But things don’t go as planned. When Francis takes his first meeting with the president to start game-planning, he’s met instead with the prez’s right-hand woman, Linda Vasquez. Vasquez has some bad news for Francis. They’ve decided against making him Secretary of State. They need him, instead, to stay in Congress. Francis. Is. PISSED. But he holds it together. He plays the roll of the good son. He nods, says he’ll do his best, and Vasquez is thrilled. She knew that would be a toughy.
Well Vasquez shouldn’t be too thrilled. Francis doesn’t spend 30 years of careful maneuvering to get to this point only to have his dream position snatched away and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. NO no no. Francis decides to become the nastiest dirtiest politician in Washington. Now we don’t quite know what this means yet, but when he blackmails a senator and starts dishing dirt to a hot new Washington Post blogger, we get an idea. This guy wants to either puppeteer the presidential office or destroy it entirely.
Okay, there are a lot of factors in play here for this analysis. First off, I’m dissecting a pilot as opposed to a film. I don’t know as much about TV, so that’s going to be a challenge. On top of this, we’re breaking down a show that got carte blanche from Neflix to do whatever the hell it wanted. According to Beau, Netflix never gave a single note. What that likely resulted in was a lot of experimenting, a lot of rule-breaking. It’s always fascinating to watch people break rules because there’s an inherent part of us that believes rules are bullshit. That if we stopped being a slave to them, we’d actually write something original and exciting and different and great (for once). Of course, there’s also the analyst side of me who’s endured the 3000 scripts that you guys never see, the ones where writers are always trying to break the rules. And every single one of them is a disaster.
Fincher and Willimon don’t disappoint. They break two major rules within the first few minutes. Are you ready for this? The show opens with our main character KILLING A DOG. There’s an old joke in Hollywood that you never have your main character kill an animal because the audience will hate him. As almost a way to say “FUCK YOU” to convention, Willimon and Fincher literally start their show with Francis killing a dog. Wow.
The second thing? They have Francis break the fourth wall. Yes, he talks directly to the audience. Talking directly to the audience is almost always a disastrous move. It’s just really hard to get right. For every Ferris Bueller, there are a thousand….well, movies you’ve forgotten because they had a character talking to the audience. And then of course, I’ve never seen this device used in a DRAMA before. When a character like this is funny, talking to us doesn’t seem so strange. We’re laughing! But to use this device in a DRAMA?? Wow, that’s chance-taking right there.
My first reaction to this? NOOOOOOOOO. Gag me with a moldy plastic spoon. But here’s the funny thing. This second rule-breaking stunt actually fixed the first one. Who doesn’t hate a character after they’ve killed a dog? Raise your hand. But when Francis starts talking to us, we feel connected to him. That’s the one big advantage with breaking the fourth wall. You create a direct connection between the audience and the character that you can’t get through any other device. So we start to feel like this guy’s friend, like his accomplice, and for that reason, we kind of forgive him for killing that doggy, just like we’d forgive one of our own friends for doing something terrible.
Another reason why we’re able to overlook the pooch-killing? Ironically, the answer lies within the canine family. Because Fincher and Willimon turn Francis into the world’s biggest underdog. This guy helped a nobody become the president of the United States. And then that president fucks him over and doesn’t reward him, basically relegating him to cleaning the shit out of the company toilets? How can we not root for Francis after that?
This leads me to one of the cooler devices Willimon used throughout the script, which is that he’d set up the stakes for many of his scenes ahead of time, giving later scenes added pop. For example, Francis spends the first 10 minutes of the episode basically telling us how hard he’s worked to get to this point. We can see the relief in his eyes, the thankfulness that after 30 years, everything’s finally going to pay off. In other words, we’ve established his STAKES. Getting here is everything to him.
This is why the later scene where Vasquez tells him they’re going with someone else is so powerful – BECAUSE WE KNOW HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO HIM. We set up those stakes earlier so that the audience would be devastated when he received the heartbreaking news. Had Willimon not dedicated those first few scenes to setting up Francis’ excitement for becoming Secretary of State, the rejection scene would have been 1/10 as powerful. We see this device being utilized several times during the episode to great effect.
I also found it interesting how much this felt like a feature. There were none of those gimmicky cliffhangers you’d typically find right before the commercial breaks in a “normal” TV show. Everything unraveled slowly and meticulously. It was like they weren’t afraid not to grab you. And it worked, mainly because of those differences (the breaking of the 4th wall) and the strong characters. If that’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that TV has to have strong characters. Because even the lesser guys are going to be on dozens of episodes. So you have to make them all compelling. That can’t be easy.
I feel like I could keep talking about this medium forever because there’s so much about it I don’t know yet. Instead, I’ll just say to check out House of Cards on Netflix if you get a chance. It’s definitely worth it.
[ ] what the hell did I just see?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth watching
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: To create sympathy for your main character, have someone screw him over. But if you want to add an extra dose of sympathy, have them screw him over AFTER he’s done something nice for them. This is why we sympathize with Francis so much even though he’s a manipulative dog killer.
Amateur Offerings Weekend is here again, at last!
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!
TITLE: Façade
GENRE: Drama, Mystery
LOGLINE: A detective investigates the murder of a teenage boy in the quintessential 1950’s American suburbs, unaware of the secrets buried behind the veneer of this picture perfect society.
WHY YOU SHOULD READ: (from writer) “Here’s why I think you should read this over others. First of all, as I said, it has been 4 years since I first wrote the original draft. I started when I was 15 and I’m 19 now. I have no formal screenwriting or film school experience. That’s not to say it’s a shit script though, in fact I hope it piques your curiosity. As in the case of Joe Marino, age doesn’t always correlate with script quality. In fact, I had my first short script produced when I was 16 (and another being produced by a filmmaker in India), and “Façade” has been highly rated on other review sites, becoming a spotlight feature on Triggerstreet Labs.”
Side-note: Missus Scriptshadow read and loved this script. Isn’t that reason enough?!
TITLE: Super Geeks
GENRE: Comedy
LOGLINE: A strait-laced Bride-to-be, who loathes her fiancé’s nerdy friends, must enlist their help to find her missing groom on an epic road trip quest to Comic Con.
TITLE: Verona Spies
GENRE: Crime/Action-Comedy
LOGLINE: After landing a job at an escort service, a young woman learns that her first date is an international spy who’s just stolen a multi-million dollar pharmaceutical secret. She agrees to help him shake the assassins waiting outside of the hotel, and soon finds herself embroiled in a deadly game of corporate espionage.
WHY YOU SHOULD READ: (from writer) “I wrote A BULLET FOR MY BEST FRIEND, and submitting it to Am. Friday was one of the most important steps I’ve taken for my career and writing thus far. I attached a producer, took meetings and have an offer from a manager. Producers who haven’t evenheard of Scriptshadow have contacted me.”
TITLE – Birds of Feathers
GENRE – Animation, Children/Family
LOGLINE – Drake, an ugly-duckling introvert, reluctantly accepts the responsibility of delivering a baby after a Stork crash lands in his pond and is unable to continue his mission.
TITLE: Fortune Cookie
GENRE: Contained-Dark Comedy/Suspense
LOGLINE: A young woman opens a fortune cookie with the prophecy that she will die if anyone leaves the restaurant. When the fortunes of her dinner companions come true, she takes the restaurant hostage.
Today’s script won 25,000 dollars. But will it win the hearts of the Scriptshadow readers??
Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, a PDF of the first ten pages 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 and “first ten” will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effects of a bad review, feel free to use an alias name and/or title. It’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.
Genre: Faith/Drama
Premise: (from writer) In the Mid-Twentieth Century a mysterious boy with Christ-like healing powers must bring together a racially charged town before the vindictive Mayor’s son murders him.
About: This is the script that generated the most discussion from last weekend’s Amateur Offerings. It recently won the $25,000.00 GRAND PRIZE at KairosPrize Screenplay Competition sponsored by www.movieguide.org.
Writer: R. W. Hahn
Details: 117 pages
I wasn’t too excited about the way the Amateur Offerings Weekend went two weeks ago, particularly in response to this script. I find that whenever a script wins a contest, it also hops inside a piñata. A piñata at a party attended by every screenwriter in the world. And they’re not leaving until they bash that thing to pieces. Why this is, I don’t know. I think there’s some frustration there that THEIR script didn’t win a contest. And that taking this other script down will somehow alleviate that pain.
But then I found out this was a Christian-themed script (“Faith based” I think you’d call it?) and that it won a Christian-themed contest. I don’t think you could put a bigger target on your back. Contest winner AND faith-based?? People have such strong opinions about religion. Get two opinionated people with conflicting beliefs in the same room and it isn’t going to end well.
And I understand the reaction. You read something you don’t believe in AT ALL and it gets you riled up. You want to scream, “Do you really believe in this???” And the same can be said of the person/people writing the script. “How could you NOT believe in this?” So to bring that kind of script into the mainstream is one hell of a risky move. I give R.W. major props for taking that chance.
Truthfully, though, I don’t care about any of that stuff. All I care about when I sit down and read a script is being entertained. I don’t care if you write a screenplay about bathtubs. If it’s a damn good bathtub story, I’ll be happy. So with that established, it’s time to see if Gideon is any good.
60-something African-American preacher Leon Swanson’s just run out of gas in a small town. He pulls up to a tiny gas station, but is frustrated to find that it’s closed. However, a sign has been left, “Open After Service.” So Preacher Leon, who you’d think would be understanding of this type of delay, trudges over to the local church to look for the gas station attendant. However, when he walks inside, he’s greeted by a church member who tells him they’ve been waiting for him! Their previous Preacher died, and God told them a new one was coming. Leon appears to be that someone.
Even though Leon isn’t interested in leading someone else’s congregation, he gets the feeling that they’re not letting him go anywhere until he gives them something. So he goes up to the pulpit and tells a story.
Cut back to the year 1939, where we meet 35 year-old Jenny. Jenny’s a maid at the local town motel and seems to live a pretty sad life. Even though she resides in the biggest house in town, everybody hates her. We don’t know why, but when Jenny walks into a store, everyone turns the other way.
Lucky for Jenny, as she’s cleaning out a room one day, she finds a baby! Naturally, she snatches that little ball of drool up and takes it home, not telling anyone about it. The baby, whom she names Gideon, starts to grow up, and it’s clear right away that he’s different. As in when he touches animals that die, they come back to life. THAT kind of different.
Back in town, we meet a group of young friends. There’s Young Leon (the old man telling the story), overweight Leftover, stump-legged Petey, bucktoothed Weasel, and skinny Skeeter. This group of misfits also includes the town bully, Josey, Petey’s older brother. Why you’d allow the town bully to be a part of your group, I don’t know. But that’s the case here.
Getting back to Jenny, we eventually learn why she was shunned. Her grandfather built the first colored church in town, and the white folks didn’t like that. So of course when he died, they shifted their anger over to Jenny.
But things have started to get better for Jenny. When her boss dies, Gideon puts his hand on him and he rises from the dead! Now it isn’t just animals Gideon’s healing, it’s people! And more and more people get wind of this and want in. Pretty soon, if you have a hangnail, you’re marching up the mountain to get a little Gideon love.
As you’d suspect, Josey isn’t keen on someone other than him being a local celebrity. So as the town gathers for some mass miracle-making, Josey prepares to end this Miracle Party once and for all. What happens next will test the faith of the town, not only in God, but in themselves.
Before I get into any deep analysis, I want to point out a couple of things. First, I can see why this did well in a competition. The writing is borderline impeccable. R.W. should consider writing novels. The dialogue also felt really authentic, which isn’t easy to do when writing 1939.
With that said, this story didn’t capture me, and I’ll try to explain why. I always tell you guys that the best engine to drive your story is a goal – a character going after something. The second best engine is a mystery. Set up a good mystery and we’ll stick around to find out what’s behind it. If you’re not using one of those two things to drive your story, it gets exponentially harder to keep a reader’s attention.
The only mystery really keeping my attention here was why everyone hated Jenny. That mystery deepened when we found out she lived in a mansion. However, once we know it’s because her grandfather built a “colored” church, there really wasn’t anything left driving the story for me. I didn’t understand why I was supposed to stay interested.
Gideon is a mystery in himself, but there are a couple of things wrong with him. One, we don’t learn anything about Gideon the person. We know Petey lives every day under the threat of his evil brother. We know Josey’s jealous and full of rage. But what do we know about Gideon? Nothing.
And he’s potentially the most interesting character in the script. He has a special power. He can heal people. He can create miracles. Imagine what kind of burden that is on a young child. How much pressure comes with it. But we never see any of that. We just see Gideon when he’s healing and happy.
Another thing that bothered me about Gideon was how repetitive his storyline got. He would heal someone. They’d be happy. Then someone else would come along. He’d heal them. They’d be happy. Then someone else. Heal, happy. Then someone else. Heal, happy. I began to roll my eyes because I always knew what would happen next: Gideon’s going to heal someone and they’re going to be happy.
How come nothing unexpected ever happened with Gideon? How come someone didn’t come along that he couldn’t heal? Or why not have an evil character kidnap Gideon and use him and his powers for his own nefarious purposes?
What this script needed was a good mid-point shift. It needed something to make the second half of the story different from the first. Cause that was a huge problem. Once Gideon starts growing up, nothing surprising happens. I’m not saying that my kidnapping idea is a great one, but do you see how, if it happened, it would make the second half of the story totally different? We wouldn’t just be repeating what’s already happened over and over again.
There were some story/structural choices that confused me as well. This movie starts off about Leon, then becomes about Jenny, and then, out of nowhere, jumps into this group of kids. I didn’t understand how we got to these kids or why we were all of a sudden following them. I eventually got used to it, but I never felt like they were a natural extension of the story. I thought this was Jenny and Gideon’s story.
That’s not to mention Young Leon. He’s our preacher. He’s the one telling the story. Yet of all the kids we follow, he’s the least significant. Shouldn’t he be the most significant? As the person telling the story, shouldn’t Young Leon be the main character? There’s even a moment towards the end (spoiler) after Gideon is killed when Leon says something about him being his best friend. His best friend?? I never saw the two talk to each other once.
Yet I thought that would’ve been a much more interesting story. You have Jenny on one side, who’s been shunned from the town because her father built a black church. After years of turmoil, she’s finally starting to make headway with the town. They’re starting to accept her again. Then her white son, Gideon, becomes best friends with Leon, a black kid, and the scrutinizing begins all over again. Jenny has to make a choice. Does she pull her son away from that friendship to make her life easier, even though she knows it’s the wrong thing to do, or does she allow them to continue their friendship, even though it’ll make her life miserable again?
However, this leads to another problem I had, which is I didn’t think the race storyline was well integrated into the story at all. It was a problem for Jenny’s grandfather, but outside of one scene where Young Leon gets picked on for being black, race isn’t really a central part of these characters’ problems. To be honest, the race stuff feels like one of those things that’s been painted on or left over from an old draft. It doesn’t feel INTEGRATED. If this is going to be about race, then MAKE THE STORY ABOUT RACE ALL THE WAY THROUGH. Not just at the beginning and the end.
For me, this story became too predictable and too straight-forward. It didn’t surprise. It needed more twists and turns. It needed to take more chances and go to more unexpected places. As it stands, the quality of writing is really high, but the story itself needs an engine. I thank R.W. for submitting it and going through the always torturous experience of getting critiqued in front of the world. As tough as it is, there hasn’t been a single Amateur Friday writer who hasn’t gotten better from it. So I know he will too. ☺
Script link: Gideon
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: These days, there’s usually a specific contest out there for your kind of script. While Gideon might have struggled in a traditional contest, it was perfect for a Christian-themed one. Heck, China just opened a screenwriting contest for scripts that center around its cities. So find the competition that fits your kind of script and you’ll have a much better chance of winning that top prize.
So you’re the kind of writer who rolls their eyes whenever someone mentions the Black List. You hear about middle class men needing beaver sock puppets to overcome their bi-polar disorder and upchuck in the nearest fern pot. Charlie Kaufman and Aaron Sorkin would better serve themselves washing your car than writing any more of their garbage. You like your movies dripping with 3-D CGI, not 2-D Philip Seymour Hoffman. And that’s why you got into screenwriting. You want to write these movies. You want to write the next blockbuster.
Well before we can discuss how to do that, we must agree on what a blockbuster is. A “blockbuster” (in Scriptshadow terms) would be any ultra-high budget, high concept, action or adventure film which would likely be slated for a summer or Christmas release. These are the films that allow the studios to pay their bills, and are therefore a “no expenses spared” celebration of Hollywood moviemaking.
We’re going to stay away from nontraditional blockbusters like Avengers (multiple protagonists – built off of pre-established characters) and Titanic (period piece without any traditional set-pieces). We’re also going to avoid films that, even though they did huge business, did so despite their screenplay, not because of it. Films like The Phantom Menace, Transformers, Alice in Wonderland won’t be celebrated here. I’ll instead focus on movies that built their box office on strong ideas and sound execution, as I feel there’s a lot more to learn from them. Films like Raiders of The Lost Ark, Avatar, Pirates Of The Caribbean, Star Wars, Jaws, Inception, and The Matrix.
Okay, it’s time for Obvious Oliver here. But before you write your blockbuster, TEST YOUR CONCEPT! You have to have a big exciting original high-concept idea for your 200 million dollar movie or else none of the advice I’m about to write will matter. You can have the best set-pieces in the world, but if the concept is unmarketable or boring or derivative, nobody’s going to read it. Why would they? They already know they can’t sell it. Make sure you have a cool “Blockbuster worthy” idea before you start writing. This is essential!!!
As for how to approach your blockbuster story, it’s best to stay within the confines of the traditional 3-Act structure. When a studio is spending 200 million dollars, they’re not itching to experiment. They want to stick with what works. That means a first act that a) sets up your main character and b) a central problem that needs to be fixed, a second act where a) the main character tries to fix that problem (his goal) and b) encounters plenty of conflict along the way, and a third act where he takes on the story’s big evil force and defeats it.
If you look at the above movies I mentioned, most of them follow this model. Indy, Brody, Cobb and Jake Sulley are all going after clear goals. Star Wars and The Matrix change things up by giving the mentor characters (Obi-Wan and Morpheus) the goal for the first portion of the story, before handing the reins over to the main character for the rest of the film. Pirates has the wonkiest structure of the bunch, enacting a “see-saw” approach where the goal keeps shifting between three different parties (Will, Jack Sparrow, and Captain Barbossa).
It’s no coincidence, then, that Pirates got knocked around for its complex plot when it first came out. And with that in mind, I’d use that as a lesson when writing your own blockbuster. Make the goal clear. Make the story easy to follow. It doesn’t mean you can’t complicate matters within your story, but the overall plot should be easy to understand. We should always know where we’re going. For example, Inception is a fairly complicated plot, but we always know what the goal is because it was stated up front – they have to place the thought inside Robert Fischer’s head, then get out.
Once you’ve got your three acts all figured out, it’s important to remember why audiences come to these movies. They want a rush. They’re looking for the same sort of excitement one gets from riding on a roller coaster at Six Flags. That’s not to say you shouldn’t have characters with flaws or unresolved relationships. Just that thrills take a high priority in these kinds of movies. For that reason, you’re always looking to shock an audience. You want twists and turns and surprise reveals and double-crosses. That wife who’s been with your hero for ten years? Have her turn on him. That guy who needs the data plans you have in that R-2 unit? Have his planet blow up right before we get there. You gotta keep us on edge in a blockbuster. The audience has to be taken up and down and up and down, just like a roller coaster. The second they feel safe, they’re bored.
Speaking of thrills, you’re going to want a cool villain. Big blockbusters and cool villains go hand-in-hand. So if you don’t have a memorable one, pack it in. There are lots of ways to approach villains. For example, make your villain strong where your main character is weak. But I’m not going to lie, the villains in your blockbuster are going to live or die on their originality and their flash. They have to stick out in some way. They have to be bigger than life. They have to be the kind of person that audiences are going to leave the theater excited to talk about. I read too many average, unoriginal, uninspired villains in amateur specs. Don’t be one of those writers.
But let’s get serious. When you’re talking about blockbusters, you’re talking about action. And that means great SET PIECES. These are the giant action scenes in your movie. After your concept and your main character, it can be argued that great set-pieces are the third most important thing in a blockbuster. That’s because THESE ARE THE SCENES THE STUDIO WILL USE TO MARKET THE MOVIE. If they don’t see anything new or unique in your set-pieces? If you’re not trying to push the envelope in some way? Then don’t bother writing a blockbuster, cause it will never sell.
I saw a script two years ago sell due to a SINGLE SET PIECE. Some of you may remember it. The opening scene had the core of the earth ripped off by a mega-nuclear bomb and our heroes flung into space. I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened after that opening because the rest of the script sucked. But I’d NEVER read anything like that set piece before, and neither did the studio who bought it. Which is why they bought it.
In the typical blockbuster, you’ll have 3 or 4 “true” set-pieces. And the first thing you’re going to want to do is make sure they’re ORIGINAL. If they’re a rehash or a copy of something you’ve already seen, delete and start over. It HAS to be different. That’s imperative. Because that’s what studio executives are looking for. They’re looking for that thrill that nobody has seen before. Look at Terminator 2. James Cameron set his car chase set-piece in the Los Angeles viaduct. Ever seen that before? Nope. But he went one step further. This wasn’t one car chasing another. It was a SEMI rig chasing a DIRT BIKE! How fun is that??? Add on two indestructible robots and you had one of the most exciting original never-before-seen set-pieces in movie history. If you can pull this off 4 times in your script, chances are you’re going to get a reader’s attention.
Now where do you put these set-pieces? Well, you probably want one every 30 pages. That means 3 or 4 set pieces total. Where you place these is up to you and is typically dictated by the story itself. The Bond films, for example, like to put a set-piece right up front in the opener. The Empire Strikes Back, however, saves its first major set-piece, the Hoth battle, for 40 minutes in. In general, you’ll have one big set piece in your first act to get everybody all jazzed up. You’re obviously going to have one for your climax. That leaves two set pieces for your second act, whose placement, again, should be dictated by the story.
Another thing you have to remember about blockbusters is that they’re almost always rated PG or PG-13. The studios want to lure in the largest audience possible, so besides a few exceptions (i.e. The Matrix) they’ll stay away from R rated material. This also means the films will typically be light-hearted. Blockbusters (unless they’re directed by Christopher Nolan) should put people in a good mood. They should be fun and exciting (like a roller coaster!). For this reason, you’re going to want humor. And the best place to find that humor is in a “comedic sidekick.”
Now the “comedic sidekick” has gotten a bad rap over the years. That’s because it used to mean a side character who was actually funny. Then someone decided to turn it into a “thing” (the COMEDIC SIDEKICK!) and everyone started taking it literally. The result was a bunch of empty characters whose only job was to spew out cheesy one-liners. Avoid that “comedic sidekick” if possible. Instead, remember that there are different kinds of funny, that you don’t have to follow the traditional definition of a comedic character. Jack Sparrow is funny for being clueless. Han Solo is funny for being an asshole. The comedic sidekick in the The Dark Knight was the villain, The Joker, who definitely has his own sense of funny. Regardless, it’s a good idea to have funny in your blockbuster. Studios want people to laugh during their blockbuster trailers. They want them to feel good. People who feel good go see those movies.
Some final things you want to keep in mind. Don’t go TOO thin on the story. Despite the emphasis on things like thrills and villains, you still gotta keep us invested. I see too many blockbuster writers depending on their action scenes, essentially writing a bunch of fluff in between them. Ask yourself if your story is interesting without the action. There’s gotta be SOMETHING dramatically going on to keep us interested for 2 hours. So even though story isn’t AS important in the blockbuster genre, the better yours is, the more likely it is your script will sell.
Also, make sure your blockbuster BUILDS. In general, you want the feeling like we’re climbing stairs during your story. With each step, we get higher, and the further up we get, the further we can fall. This means fights get bigger, stakes get bigger, battles get bigger, chase scenes get bigger. During each stage of the script, make sure what’s happening is bigger than what happened before. This is not a hard and fast rule, of course. The Hoth Battle in Empire is the biggest set-piece in the film. But in a traditional blockbuster, we should feel the story building , with the final climax being the biggest moment of all, where everything for everyone is on the line.
Blockbusters are made to entertain, which means many of the superficial elements I typically rail against on the site become important in this world. I’ve struggled with this notion because the idealist in me has always believed that the better the story, the better a chance your script has at selling. But there’s no doubt that in the blockbuster world, if you come up with a kick ass concept, a memorable main character, and three amazing set pieces, you can sell your script to the right buyer. So make sure those elements are in place. Still, keep in mind that readers want to be taken away by a story. So if you can add a great story to all this, your chances of selling your blockbuster spec go up exponentially. There just aren’t that many writers who are good at both of these things. So if you’re one of the few who are, you can go a long way in this business.
Its trailer has made clapping the new “I see dead people.” But is the screenplay just a catch phrase and a few scares? Or does it offer more?
Genre: Horror
Premise: Based on a true story, a family moves into a farmhouse, only to realize that it’s haunted by a demon.
About: This is Saw (and Insidious) director James Wan’s new film. It’s apparently been getting great reviews from preview audiences, prompting the studio to move it up from a fall to a summer slot. It is loosely based on the exploits of renowned demonologists Ed and Lorraine Warren. Screenwriters Chad and Carey Hayes have written the remake of House Of Wax, The Reaping, and Whiteout. Before that they worked in TV for more than a decade, specializing on TV movies.
Writers: Chad and Carey Hayes
Details: 106 pages (Nov. 8, 2011 draft)
What is it about families moving into houses that’s led to so many horror movies? In the past couple of months, I’ve seen Sinister and Dark Skies and Mama, all movies about families living in (or moving into) houses where bad shit starts happening. You’d think that we’d get bored of it at some point. But for whatever reason, an undead entity violating the place where we’re supposed to feel safest gets us every time.
And therein lies the problem for us writers. Since this kind of story has been written about ad nausea, how in the world do you make it fresh? What can you possibly do to make it original? Which is why when I picked up The Conjuring, I was (ironically) skeptical. Even if the previews are getting everyone excited. Even if the studio thinks they have something special. How do you make a story like this different? I wanted to believe. But could The Conjuring make me?
Conjuring conjures up real-life “Demonologists” Ed and Lorraine Warren. These guys were the Lebron James of paranormal investigation back in the 70s. If you were like, “Yo Karen, I just saw a ghost in my closet.” It’s very likely the response would be, “Guess we better call the Warrens!” But the Warrens are getting tired of what they do. They’ve checked out thousands of these “hauntings” and they typically turn out to be someone stepping on a loose floor board while snacking on Fro Yo in the middle of the night. They want to start spending more time with their daughter, so they plan on exiting the paranormal business.
That is until they hear about the Perrons. The Perrons (Roger, Carolyn, and FIVE daughters), besides not being active participants of birth control, aren’t too happy with the new house they’ve purchased. One of their daughters is getting pulled by her feet while she sleeps. Another has an imaginary friend named ‘Rory.’ Another sees a creepy looking chick sitting on top of the armoire all the time. Oh, and when they play “Hide and Clap,” a game that’s not nearly as disgusting as it sounds, the spirits in the house end up playing too. That’s what really pisses them off. Haunting is fine. But when you start participating in games uninvited, that’s when we draw the line!!
So they bring the Warrens in (who strangely forget all that talk about retiring), who immediately agree there’s some bad shit going on in the house. But in order to get the house “officially” exorcised, they’re going to need approval from the Vatican. And the Vatican doesn’t do that shit unless you’ve got proof. Now they didn’t have fancy-schmancy video cameras back then, so they set up a bunch of bells on doors and still cameras.
What they learn is not good. They find out that the first owner of the house was a woman who was a witch condemned in the Salem Witch trials. But she was, like, a real one! She killed her child, saying the Devil wanted her to do it or something. This is why the spirit in the house is so powerful. She’s a damn witch! The Warrens, who once again, are used to dealing with loud plumbing as the source of people’s haunting, aren’t really prepared to deal with this, and soon find themselves, along with the Perrons, fighting for their lives.
Like I said, you need to come at the haunted house genre with something different or else it’s really hard to stand out in the spec market (and the movie market). The Hayes do so by focusing not on the haunted family, but the paranormal investigators tasked with solving the haunting. This approach had mixed results.
It’s definitely “different” to focus on the investigator side, but I thought what made a situation scary was characters being confronted with something they couldn’t understand and didn’t know how to deal with. Once the Warrens walk in, they calmly listen to all the problems and nonchalantly reply, “Oh yeah, that. That’s blah blah blah. It happens all the time.” I just got this feeling of safeness when they appeared and was no longer scared. And isn’t the point of a scary movie to be scared?
If you’re going to go that route, don’t you want your investigators to quickly learn they’re in way over their head so that once again, you have the classic scenario, “characters being confronted with something they can’t understand and don’t know how to deal with it?” That DOES end up happening, but not until the very end.
Luckily, the script has a few really good scares. I don’t want to spoil them but let’s just say that you’ll never pull at a rope to see what’s at the end of it ever again after this film. And there’s a scene towards the end here that gives Chucky a run for his money.
Another thing that caught my attention were the kids. Presumably they based enough of this on a true story that they had to include all five girls. FIVE GIRLS. I found this interesting because writing five kids into any movie is a nightmare for a screenwriter. You not only have to keep track of where they are all the time (even during mundane moments) but how the hell are you going to build five girls, ages 8-18, and make all of them unique and interesting and memorable? You can’t. Which is why none of the girls here are memorable outside of their own unique haunting experience. It’s why you typically only see one or two kids in a story like this. Much easier to manage and build the character(s). Having said that, the five kids contributed to The Conjuring feeling slightly more unique than other haunted house flicks.
Structurally, the script was a mixed bag. The Hayes don’t seem to agree with Scriptshadow’s philosophy of adding urgency. There are lots of cuts of “1 month later” and “2 months later” that happen here, which unfortunately give the impression that the family isn’t in that much danger. If you can just wait two months for the Vatican’s permission to get an exorcism, then things can’t be THAT BAD, can they?
With that said, it’s okay to create a slow build in a haunted house flick, as long as the urgency jumps up for the final act. (spoiler) In this case, Carolyn gets possessed, and the fear is that she’ll murder her children. Obviously, at that point, characters have to act immediately. Still, they didn’t make this plot point as convincing as it could’ve been. So the ending didn’t have the punch that it could’ve had.
But when you put everything together, this script is better than the average horror script on the market. It has just enough originality to separate it from the competition, and the execution in most areas is strong. And it IS scary. You can see a lot of these scenes playing well in the theater, especially when things get ramped up in the third act. One final criticism though. I didn’t like the title card at the end that said, “The Warrens would become famous with their next case, the Amityville home.” That made me feel like I just watched the “second rate” version of their investigations. It’s cool to find out these two are more familiar to us than we know, but I’m not sure it’s worth it.
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: If you don’t have some new scares, don’t bother writing a horror script. If all you’ve got is someone at the edge of the bed, an imaginary friend for the young child, or your character seeing someone in the mirror behind them, don’t bother. I was surprised then, that all of these things were present here. Luckily, there were some impressive original scares to help us forget them. But if I were you, I’d challenge yourself on every single scare. Ask if you can do something differently, something new, something better. Push yourself dammit. Not enough writers push themselves anymore.
