In today’s post I reveal something that very few screenwriters know – which is the number one thing that leads to a boring script.  And it’s going to shock you.

This weekend’s weak box office is relevant to today’s conversation – specifically the box office failure that was I.S.S. – because I’m going to talk about how to avoid writing a boring script. The 2024 Two-Script Challenge is upon us. We’re starting Screenplay Number 1 next week. So I want to show you guys how to avoid boredom and even achieve the opposite – the big thing that makes a screenplay exciting.

I.S.S. came out this weekend and barely made 3 million dollars. I reviewed the script a few years ago and identified the main problem all the way back then for why it wouldn’t do well.

It was boring.

I’m not roasting the film’s box office because it didn’t have much of a marketing push. First weekends are almost always about how big the marketing push is. This film got very little of that. I’m more focused on the audience score, a C-. C- in audience score parlance is the equivalent of an F- -. It means the audience really disliked the film. And I know why. Because the script was boring. Check out my old script review to get some more context as to why the film was doomed.

But we’re talking about a different movie today: the big-budget Netflix movie, “Lift.” “Lift” is an exceptionally fun idea, one of the better concepts I’ve come across in a while. A team of bad guys are going to pull off a heist on an airborne airplane. That’s a “licking your writing chops” type of screenplay. The possibilities are endless.

And yet, the final script is so devoid of entertainment, we’re left to wonder, what happened??

For those who haven’t seen the movie – and that appears to be most of America – it follows a mastermind named Cyrus who steals a lot of high-value things. He works with a team of heisters, the most memorable of which is a guy named Denton, who’s weird and a master of disguise.

When Interpol agent Abby learns that an international terrorist is transferring half a billion dollars worth of gold on a plane, she realizes that if she can steal his gold, she can prevent him from funding any more of his terrorism. So she (at her boss’s urging) gets Cyrus (who she once had a fling with) to come up with a plan to steal the gold in-flight. Cyrus recruits his team and they prepare for the most impossible heist in history.

Sounds fun, right?

Yet, by every metric, the movie doesn’t work. It’s got a 5.5 on IMDB, a 30% RT score, and the most damning metric: a 31% audience score. This is a movie made for the audience, not the critics. That score hurts badly.

But here’s the thing. The movie isn’t bad. Bad is what happens when you take a big swing and whiff. It’s Battlefield Earth. It’s Southland Tales. It’s Howard the Duck. Lift suffers a much worse fate: It’s boring. And today I’m going to teach you about the number one thing that makes a script boring. Because you’re about to write your first script of 2024 and I want to make sure it doesn’t suffer the same fate as Lift.

Who here thinks they know what makes a script boring? The number one thing. Everyone stop reading and go make a guess in the comments. You’re not allowed to re-edit it. When you’re finished, come back up here so I can tell you what it is. Cause I know. I’ve read enough boring scripts to be able to tell you the exact reason. And that reason is going to surprise you. Cause it surprised me when I first figured it out.

Are you ready for it?

Are you sure?

I don’t think you’re ready. But I’m going to tell you.

The number one thing that makes a script boring… IS WHEN IT’S WRITTEN WELL.

Wait, what??

That can’t be right. If you’ve written a script well, you’ve done a good job.

No, actually, you haven’t. All you’ve done is give the reader the exact experience they were expecting. And that’s what makes a script boring. Cause readers don’t want to get what they expect. They want to get what they couldn’t have come up with themselves. They want to be surprised.

And if all you’re doing is checking screenwriting boxes to get your script written, what you will have is a technically proficient script without any soul. It will get the job done but it will feel empty.

As I watched Lift, I noticed that the writer was doing the technically correct thing every step of the way.

We get the big flashy opening set piece to pull us in – a heist of an NFT. We introduce our mastermind and our Interpol agent, who once had a relationship together, and now must team up for this heist.

The heist itself is impossible. Getting onto a plane mid-flight to steal 150 tons of gold is as hard as it gets.

We then introduce all these little smaller problems that the heist team has to solve in order to achieve the ultimate goal. All that is exactly what you want to do in a heist film. It’s about the team trouble-shooting to pull off the heist.

Those are just the basics. There are tons of other character-related things (bringing in a “wild card” character in Denton) that are technically correct as well.

That’s what’s so frustrating about screenwriting. Is that you can do everything right yet still write a weak script.

But how can that be true?

Well, one of the things I’ve said before but I probably need to say more often is that a script’s strength is not in the things that the writer does right. It’s in the risks that the writer takes that have the potential to be “wrong.” You see, it’s the blemishes that make a movie stand out. A perfectly smooth face is boring to look at.

Look at Joker. That entire movie is built around something you’re not supposed to do in screenwriting – which is to make your hero an unstable psychotic murderous person who isn’t easy to like. That was a HUGE RISK. Which is exactly why, when it worked, it worked exceptionally, making over a billion dollars.

Promising Young Woman came out during a time when it wasn’t considered okay to make female characters “crazy” or possibly be in the wrong. That was a huge risk. Yet that’s exactly what made the character so interesting. If they would’ve made her yet another Mary Sue who could do no wrong, which was considered the “right” thing to do in screenwriting at the time, the script would’ve been boring.

Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking. Those are artsy movies where it’s easier to take risks. That’s true. In fact, concepts like Lift are the ones MOST SUSCEPTIBLE to being boring because they’re mainstream and, therefore, don’t allow for a lot of flexibility in the creative part of the execution.

But I promise you this. If you don’t take SOME RISKS in whatever script you’re writing, your ceiling is a boring script. I say “ceiling” because you might not even get the script to the point where it makes sense, which happens a lot with newbie writers. But even if you execute it perfectly, without risks, it’s going to be boring. Cause a million movies have come out just like it, and by following their formula, you haven’t given us anything new to celebrate.

So you have to take risks. You have to try some things. One of the best recent examples of a mainstream script taking a big risk was Spider-Man: Homecoming. That whole thing where Mary Jane was the Vulture’s daughter – that could’ve gone horribly wrong if the audience didn’t buy it. I’ve seen versions of that choice in other movies where the audience violently rolled their eyes while mumbling “Give me a break.” It was a big creative risk. And, as a result, it’s the thing everyone remembers about that movie.

So you have the ability to be risky in these scripts. It’s just harder. Just don’t let that deter you. A boring script is the worst version of a script you can write. Not just because no one will remember it. But because it actually takes a lot of effort to write a perfectly proficient script. And then you get no reward for it. You might as well take some risks along the way so that the script has a shot at being memorable.

Feel free to share some notable creative risks you’ve seen in big films in the comments section. Cause I know most of you are writing marketable Hollywood movies for the 2024 Challenge. So I want you to see how other writers of these films have taken risks that have paid off.

One of my favorite characters from 2023 (Duncan Wedderburn in Poor Things)

Week 1 Post
Week 2 Post

Okay, it is WEEK 3 in our WRITE TWO SCRIPTS IN 2024 Screenwriting Challenge. Week One was playing with possible concepts. Week Two was solidifying a concept. And now we’re on to Week Three – FIGURING OUT YOUR CHARACTERS.

Usually, when writers write scripts, they start writing IMMEDIATELY after they’ve come up with their idea. This is almost always a mistake. When you jump into a script too quickly, you burn out fast. You’ve got a runway of about 20-40 pages but you never build up enough speed to take off.

You erroneously figure your premise is too weak and you abandon your script like an alcoholic abandons their family. Whoa, that just got dark. Disregard that. Actually: REGARD IT. This post is about character. And character flaws are crucial to understanding your next steps.

This is the part of script-writing NO ONE WANTS TO DO – the character work. It’s boring. It’s hard. It doesn’t allow you to have any fun, since it’s all backstory and, therefore, doesn’t fill up any pages. Yet, it’s probably the most important work you can do for your script.

In my experience, getting the characters right is the single most important aspect of a screenplay. You can have a bad plot, but if you have great characters, you can write a good screenplay. Meanwhile, if you have bad characters, even if you have a great plot, the screenplay will suck. The reader will not care what happens unless they care about the people taking us there.

If you create a character who we like, give them some kind of resistance within them that they’re battling, and show them succeed – if you get that right, NOTHING ELSE MATTERS.

However, we need to do a deep dive to get there. I don’t need to know when your character had their first kiss (unless it’s relevant to the story) or what their favorite food is. That stuff does help. And if you want to do that work, I’m all for it. But I’m looking for something more important.

Here’s what I want you to do this week. You’re going to make a list of your 4-5 major characters – the ones who have the most screen time. You’re then going to figure out the five major character pillars of each. These five pillars are…

Likability

Personality

Flaw

Arc

Central Relationship

Let’s go through these one at a time.

LIKABILITY
I got news for you. If we don’t like your main character, there’s a very good chance we won’t care about ANYTHING they do. Which means you can write the greatest story ever and we’ll still hate it because we don’t like the person. Go back through all your least favorite movies and I can pretty much guarantee you didn’t like the hero. So you have to figure out why your character would be liked by others. And no, you don’t get to ignore this one if you’re writing a dark comedy and your hero is a tough pill to swallow. You then have to figure out how to make your hero sympathetic. If they can do it for Joker, you can do it for your script. You want to have such a solid reason for why your hero is likable or sympathetic that, if you were taken to court on the matter, you would win the case hands down. That’s how persuasive your argument should be.

Here are a few recent movies and why their characters were likable or sympathetic. Willy Wonka – The nicest kindest person you’ve ever met. Ken in Barbie – All he cares about in life is getting this one person to notice him but she won’t. We can all sympathize with that since we’ve all had that person (people) in our own lives. John Wick – He’s sympathetic cause his wife died and they took his dog. He’s also likable because he’s a nice guy with good morals. Robert McCall (The Equalizer) – One of the most likable characters in movies because all he cares about is helping people who can’t help themselves, to the point where he’s willing to risk his secret identity to do so. Louis Bloom (Nightcrawler) – He’s the ultimate underdog in this night-crawling business (audiences love underdogs) and he’s obscenely driven (audiences love characters who are driven, cause driven people are active, and audiences love activity).

PERSONALITY
This is one of the most overlooked aspects of character creation in screenwriting and if you don’t pay attention to it, you are likely to have a boring main character. This happens ALL THE TIME in the amateur scripts I read. The writer makes all the surrounding characters fun and interesting but they assume that their main character needs to be so grounded that they don’t have any defining traits whatsoever. Which is a huge mistake. You have to give your character some personality.

The best way I know how to do this is to figure out your character’s sense of humor. Your sense of humor dictates the majority of your personality. Are they sarcastic? Do they like gallows humor? Are they goofy? Are they the “dad joke” type? Are they deadpan? Are they quick-witted?

Going beyond the humor, what other aspects do they bring to the table that help them stand out in a conversation? Are they sexy, like James Bond, who has that twinkle in his eye whenever he speaks to a woman? Are they intimidatingly smart, like Robert Downey Jr’s Sherlock Holmes? Are they cocky? Are they charismatic, like Ferris Bueller? Are they quirky, like Bella Baxter (Poor Things)? These are just some ways to identify your character’s personality. Define it as tightly as you can because if you don’t, your character is going to sound untethered. We’re never going to have a good feel for them.

FLAW
This is obviously a big one because it’s the thing that most defines your character within the context of your movie. Writers can get tripped up by flaws. But they’re easier to figure out than you think. The character’s journey in the movie will determine how you identify their flaw. For example, if the movie is about a banker trying to get rich, the flaw will probably be greed. If the movie is about being the best at something (Nightcrawler), the flaw will revolve around recklessness or perfectionism. If someone wants to be the best at all costs, that’s their flaw – they don’t know when to stop. If the movie is about a “my way or the highway” coach who’s trying to take a basketball team to the championship, the flaw would be stubbornness. He’s not able to listen to anyone else but himself.

Think of the flaw as the NEGATIVE part of your character’s personality. They have good things. But this is their one bad thing. And it’s usually the most dominant part of their personality. Some writers have asked me if addiction is a flaw. It can be. But it’s usually what leads to the addiction that’s the flaw. So if someone struggles to connect with others but can connect with them when they’re drunk, then they might develop an alcohol addiction. But it’s not the alcohol that’s the flaw. It’s their fear of connection. That’s what they need to overcome. Not the alcoholism.

ARC
Now that you know the flaw, you have to figure out how you’re going to arc your character over the course of the story. A well-constructed character arc is one of the most satisfying storytelling experiences an audience can have. We audiences love to see that broken character overcome that flaw that’s been holding them back the whole movie (which we extrapolate to mean ‘their whole life’) and finally change. It’s not the good guy beating up the bully at the end that gets us. It’s that our good guy’s flaw was that he was a coward and he’s finally overcome that cowardice to become brave, which gave him the strength to stand up to bully at the end. THAT’S WHAT GETS US. When George McFly punches Biff after being Biff’s punching bag the whole movie, we cheer because George has finally overcome his flaw, his cowardice.

Unfortunately, an arc isn’t just about establishing a flaw at the beginning and having them overcome it at the end. There’s all that in-between time as well. This is your second act and you want to set up three to four big scenes where your hero is faced with the opportunity to overcome their flaw but they fail. We need to see these little failures along the way for the big final change to feel genuine. So, as you’re constructing the arc, I want you to think about these 3 or 4 scenes in your script where you’re going to challenge your character’s flaw. And then, also, figure out what that final climactic scene is going to look like where your hero is faced with that opportunity to change once more and he finally does.

CENTRAL RELATIONSHIP
There are no characters in a vacuum. You can’t express a character unless they’re bouncing off other characters. So you want to figure out what the central relationship in your movie is, then strategize how to get the most out of it. For example, in Titanic, the obvious central relationship is Jack and Rose. You don’t want to wait until you start writing to figure out how that relationship is going to work. You want to identify what the major source of conflict is in that relationship so that whenever the characters are together, they’re dealing with that conflict.

In that movie, Jack’s the kind of guy who lives by the seat of his pants. He does what he wants to do whenever he wants to do it. Rose is the kind of person who plans 8 moves because she has to. She’s in a prison – a bunch of rich people who live a highly structured life. And that’s what makes their relationship interesting. Their worldviews are opposite. If James Cameron had envisioned Rose as this cool chick who is more of a rebel, then Rose and Jack are too similar and you don’t get as much conflict. More recently, you can look at Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. Stark is willing to get dirty to get the job done. Rogers plays by the rule book. Those worldviews are what creates the conflict that drives that relationship.

Figure out these five pillars for, at the very least, your hero and your biggest secondary character. If you can extend it out to more characters, even better. I promise you that the more you know these five pillars, the more confident you’ll be going into your script. What you have to remember is that there’s the story being told by your plot (Save Barbie Land) and the stories being told within your characters themselves (Ken – must overcome his feelings of worthlessness and find purpose if Barbie doesn’t want him). If you can create a great character story, your script will be impervious to plot issues. I know that sounds crazy but it’s true. To this day, Swingers is one of my favorite movies. It also has one of the worst plots I’ve ever seen in a script. But it works because the characters all have their clear through-lines.

Okay, get to it! Next Thursday, we’re outlining our plot. Which means that, yes, you finally get to start writing your script in Week 5. Can’t wait!

Learning the difference between Type 0, Type 1, and Type 2 Concepts

One question I constantly go back and forth on is, “Is concept the most important part of screenwriting?” It’s a challenging question to answer because the other aspects – character, plot, dialogue – take so much more time to construct and integrate into a screenplay. So it’s easy to see them as being more important.

But the thing with concept is that it informs everything. It informs your characters. It informs your plot. It informs your dialogue and what kind of scenes you write. So even though it’s just this tiny little sentence, it’s probably the most important aspect of your script. Pick the right concept and the script writes itself. Pick the wrong one and you could spend years trying to improve something that’s already hit its ceiling.

For those who pop in and out irregularly, I’m challenging the Scriptshadow readers to write two scripts this year. I’m going to guide you through both of those experiences every Thursday for the rest of the year. I’ve given you two weeks to come up with a concept which means you’ve got one week left.

As I pointed out in my original “2 Scripts in 2024” post, I’d encourage you to choose a strong concept – something that would give you a clear poster and a clear trailer. Before you purists scream out that you will not be pigeonholed by the Hollywood establishment, take note of how you choose which movies YOU watch. You usually see a poster, watch a trailer, or hear about the idea online and it catches your interest.

If you’re not thinking about how people receive your idea, if you’re not asking whether they’ll be excited when they hear your idea, you’re probably picking a weak idea. Sure, you can utilize the strategy of, what I’m interested in, others will be interested in. But I’d only go that route if you have a good feel for popular culture and what people like. If your instinct is to write scripts like Past Lives or Drive My Car, you do not want to be using that strategy. Trust me.

Since talking about concept in a vacuum isn’t very helpful, I want to get more specific. After being pitched thousands of script ideas, I’ve found that you can break concepts into three types.

TYPE 0 – These are concepts that aren’t marketable or clever. This would be something like Minari or Mank or Roma. I’m not saying you should never write a script like this. But it’s important to understand that, by doing so, you are making a 1 in ten thousand shot a 1 in one billion shot. So write these at your own risk.

TYPE 1 – These are concepts that are marketable. They’re tried-and-true formulas that fit into specific genres and sub-genres that the industry has been making money off of for decades. If you write a body-swap script, that’s a Type 1. If you write a John Wick clone, that’s a Type 1. The good thing about Type 1 concepts is that they have a real shot at being turned into movies if they’re good. The bad thing is that they don’t give you anything else. It’s a straight-down-the-middle exploration of that genre and, therefore, you won’t get a ton of read requests. You’ll get way more than Type 0s. But unless an exec is looking for a project like that at the time, they’re going to be reluctant to request a read.

TYPE 2 – Type 2 concepts give you the marketability you get from Type 1 AS WELL AS SOMETHING EXTRA. Usually, this means an exciting x-factor or a component that makes the idea clever. For that reason, these are the concepts that are going to get you the most reads. The classic example of a Type 2 Concept is The Hangover. If that movie had only been about three guys going to Vegas for a crazy bachelor weekend, it would’ve been a Type 1 concept. By having them all forget the previous night and have to find the lost groom the next day using clues from the previous evening – that’s what made the premise clever and, therefore, graduate to a Type 2.

So there’s no confusion, these types don’t represent every idea out there. They’re only the types I see the most often. I’m not sure what category “Dream Scenario” would be in, for example. It’s not quite marketable but it does have a unique premise. There are also concepts like Knock at the Cabin. It has that marketable component as well as something a little bit different about it. But I’m not sure it has enough of a unique hook to graduate to Type 2. Maybe I’d place it at a 1.5. The point is, I want you to use these as guidelines, and guidelines only, for choosing your concepts.

What follows is a list of Type 0, Type 1, and Type 2 concepts for clarity.

TYPE 0 CONCEPTS (avoid these unless you’re extremely passionate about the idea)

Nomadland – People driving around without destinations. Type 0.

Fences – A drama about backyards. Type 0.

Dallas Buyers Club – Melodramatic script about AIDS. Type 0.

The Holdovers – Staying at a college during winter break and exploring character development during that isn’t a sexy enough idea to write on spec. Type 0.

A Good Person – When you have an idea that feels like something you can see in the everyday world – such as a movie chronicling a regular family’s problems – it’s almost certainly a Type 0.

The Iron Claw – A tragic story. The rareness of the wrestling subject matter gives it a little more gusto than your average Type 0. But it’s still a Type 0.

Marriage Story – Watching the last stages of a marriage in drama format is Type 0.

Licorice Pizza – This is an interesting one because it has a lot of unique elements. But it doesn’t have any clear concept that stands out, which is what makes it a Type 0.

Lady Bird – Straight-forward coming-of-age films are almost all Type 0s. They rarely get made unless the writer is directing the film.  That’s a good sign of a Type 0, by the way.  If no one OTHER THAN THE WRITER is interested in making the movie, it’s a Type 0.

Aftersun – From everything I’ve heard, this is a good movie. But it’s virtually unmarketable due to its concept-less premise. A good way to spot Type 0s are movies that get all these awards yet you STILL have no interest in seeing them. One quick extra note. Just because you want to see Aftersun does not make it marketable. As someone who follows the movie industry, you are a unique consumer. You are not the average consumer. When coming up with ideas, you want to have the average consumer in mind.

TYPE 1 CONCEPTS (a good middle-ground concept to build a script around)

The Equalizer – Straight-forward guy-with-a-gun story. A little bit of uniqueness (he helps the less fortunate fight the bad guys). But not enough for Type 2 status.

Bullet Train – An assassin on a bullet train. This may be a 1.5 but it’s definitely not a Type 2. There’s nothing unique enough or clever enough about the premise to warrant that label.

Moonfall – These giant disaster movies used to be Type 2s but they became so ubiquitous that they were sent down to Type 1.

Anyone But You – A straightforward romantic comedy premise.

The Boogeyman – Any horror movie with an evil monster is Type 1.

Extraction – This is a good example of what a solid Type 1 concept looks like. We’re setting the story in a place we don’t usually get to see in movies like this (India), which gives it just enough of a bump to get directors and actors interested.

Oppenheimer – Any biopic or true story that chronicles famous people throughout history is automatically a Type 1.

The Other Guys – Any mismatched cops teaming up is going to be a Type 1.

Knives Out – An established sub-genre: Get a whole bunch of people in the same area and have something go wrong. These setups are not far off from Type 2 if you can find a unique way in or an unexpected execution.

47 Meters Down – All shark movies are going to be at least a Type 1. The contained nature of the characters’ predicament gets this a little closer to Type 2. But there isn’t that one thing about it that truly stands out – that strange attractor – to bring it to that level.

TYPE 2 CONCEPTS (these are the concepts you want to write, if possible)

Plane – A plane making an emergency landing in a war-torn country is Type 1.5 territory. Needing to depend on one of the passengers, an accused murderer, makes it Type 2. Whenever there’s irony in a premise (The hero is a murderer), you’re usually in Type 2 territory.

Room – This one’s a little debatable. It’s a contained thriller, which is a high-grade Type 1 concept. I say “high grade” because people trapped inside a place, trying to get out, is always going to be an exciting situation to watch. The uniqueness of sharing a kid with her captor and using him to escape eases this up into Type 2 territory.

Cocaine Bear – A group of people running from something scary in the forest is an idea as old as time and is, therefore, a Type 1. But no one’s ever made the scary thing a bear high on cocaine. That’s what makes it Type 2.

Bird Box – End of the world scenarios are automatically Type 1. The unique element here is that if you look at the evil thing, you kill yourself, forcing everyone to walk around blind.

Gravity – Being stuck up in space after your ship’s been destroyed is almost a Type 2 all on its own. But the real-time component solidified this script’s Type 2 status.

Her – A romance between a man and a woman is Type 1 territory. But once you make one of the parties a computer, it’s a Type 2.

Get Out – An easy call with this one. It’s not just about a black man being introduced to his white girlfriend’s family. But it’s about the freaky weird stuff going on within that family.

The Lost City – Romance in the jungle is a lesser-known but established sub-genre that makes money for Hollywood. What elevates this to Type 2 is having the clueless model who is on the front of the main character’s books being tasked with playing the actual part of that model in this real-life adventure with the author. Irony = Type 2.

Leave The World Behind – This one’s debatable. There are a lot of “End of the World” concepts out there. But this one evolves via a series of mysteries that, I believe, elevate it to Type 2.

65 – If you’re intersecting human beings with dinosaurs, it is almost always going to be a Type 2 idea.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter – It’s not just Dracula killing people in a city. That’s Type 1. It’s Dracula being shipped on a boat, breaking free, and killing everyone on board. That’s what makes it Type 2.

Just so there’s no confusion, none of these examples represent the quality of the movies themselves. I’ve heard some great things about some of my Type 0 examples and watched several of my Type 2 examples fail at the box office. All we’re trying to do here is understand which types of scripts get requested the most, as that’s the biggest determining factor in your script getting optioned or sold. You can’t sell a script that only five people read. It takes A LOT OF NO’S before you find your yes. Which is why I encourage you to write Type 2 concepts if possible. If not, then at least Type 1.

One week left, people. The real work starts next Thursday! :)

And Scriptshadow is going to help you do it!

Whenever I don’t know what picture to use, I use a picture of the greatest candy ever.

First of all, I want to wish everyone a happy new year. It’s going to be a fun year at Scriptshadow. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve I’m eager to reveal in the coming months. I recently got this amazing idea to help writers better connect with agents and producers that I’m shocked it took me this long to think up. I’ll share that with you soon.

But I’m excited, most of all, about us bringing new stories into the world. Each year, a select few are fortunate enough to experience that surge of inspiration that enables them to craft a tale that resonates with a large portion of the populace. My wish is that this opportunity presents itself to as many of you as possible.

Initially, I had a plan where you were going to write two screenplays in 2024, one for yourself and one for the industry. The former would allow you to engage in a more personal journey without having to worry about marketability or popularity. The latter would allow you to write the ultimate industry script, the kind that managers, agents and producers go gaga over.

After a couple of dozen e-mails from you guys, I’ve decided that that’s not the way to go. Not enough of you were interested in locking yourselves down into an unmarketable screenplay. Which was inspiring to hear. It tells me that you’re in this game for the right reasons – to entertain people. You’re not here to stroke your own ego.

So we’re still going to write those two screenplays. But I’m no longer putting restrictions on them. Write whatever script you want. Every week, here on the site, I’ll act as your guide – pushing you forward to make sure you not only finish your script but finish with the best version of that script possible.

What’s the reward you get for all this? Two completed screenplays by the end of the year, thank you very much! The reason two is better than one is because every screenplay is a crapshoot. You don’t know if it’s going to suck or not. By writing two scripts, you double your chances of writing something good. I’m tired of watching writers spend 3 years of their lives pushing one script. You need options.

The other reward is Mega Showdown. We do Logline Showdowns every month here on the site. They go through the weekend. But, in this case, we’re going to do a gigantic week-long showdown at the end of each six months specifically for these two scripts. It’s going to be fun. You’ll need a good logline to get into the competition. But once you’re in, you’ll have a chance to get your first 5-10 pages published on the site so that people are voting on more than just an idea. They’re voting because they’ve been pulled into your story.

So, what’s your first assignment? Over the next two weeks, I want you to decide on the concept for your first script. Why two whole weeks? Because your concept is going to make your screenwriting journey either REALLY EASY or REALLY HARD for you. If you choose a strong concept, everything about this journey becomes a thousand times easier. I can’t emphasize that enough. It all starts with the concept.

A good concept also makes writing the script easier. Take “Bad Boy,” for example, the kick-ass script I just reviewed in the newsletter about a dog who ends up with a new owner (spoiler) who he comes to realize is a serial killer. That concept starts generating scenes before you’ve even started writing it. You can already see the scenes in your mind. You know the scene is coming where the dog first sees his owner kill a victim. You know you’ve got plenty of scenes where the most recent kidnapped victim will try and connect with the dog to help her escape. The concept is providing you with scenes.

If your concept is more passive or internal, such as the film, The Zone of Interest, I promise you you will be pulling your hair out trying to come up with scenes to write. So, I don’t just want you to come up with a marketable concept. I want you to come up with a concept that’s going to make the writing easy. It’s going to generate scenes for you.

We can use this post here to test out ideas. I would strongly recommend getting feedback. If nobody’s excited about your idea, don’t let your ego get in the way. Move on to a new idea. That’s what these two weeks are about. They’re about throwing stuff out there and seeing what sticks. Because you can go back and change characters that aren’t working in a script. You can go back and change weak plot points. You can rewrite bad dialogue twenty times over until you get it right. But the one thing you can’t go back and change is your concept. You’re locked into it. So make sure you’re ULTRA CONFIDENT about your script idea. Don’t wait until the Mega Showdown to find out your idea sucks.

I know some of you are not keen on posting your movie ideas on the internet. You can always test them on me, as well. It cost 25 bucks (carsonreeves1@gmail.com) but I’ll tell you where I rate the concept on a 1-10 scale, I’ll give you a little feedback, I’ll rewrite the logline for you, and I’ll tell you straight up if it has zero chance of being chosen. So don’t come to me if you’re looking for a pat on the back. I’m going to give you the harsh truth because I don’t want to send anyone down a six-month road that I know will lead to failure.

I can’t emphasize this enough, guys. The concept you choose is going to have the BIGGEST INFLUENCE on the reaction to your script of any other factor. And if you don’t believe that, revisit your reactions to every single movie you heard about in 2023. I’m guessing you had a strong immediate reaction when you saw those trailers. That’s because we judge movies on the strength or weakness of the idea. I want you to come into this ring with the best fighter possible.

Okay, have fun, and don’t be afraid to throw out a bunch of concepts. Sometimes it’s the ideas we DON’T think are going to resonate that resonate. You never know until you share them.

Let the writing begin!

The most clever horror premise I’ve read all year. It Follows meets The Ring!

Genre: Horror
Premise: A young woman finds out, after breaking up with her boyfriend, that everyone who breaks up with him dies exactly three days later.
About: The short story sales continue! In addition to “It’s Over,” we also have the new Ridley Scott short story project, “Bomb.” I’m trying to get my hands on that one as well so maybe I’ll be reviewing it soon. “It’s Over” sold for mid-six figures to Sony and will be adapted by Akela Cooper, who scripted, “M3GAN.”
Writer: Jack Follman
Details: 28 pages

Prey’s Amber Midthunder for Jen?

Short stories taking over Hollywood. Who would’ve thought?

I wonder if the reason these things are selling is because Hollywood realized they were going to rewrite any spec sales anyway. So why not substitute in a piece of writing that allows them to craft the script from conception? There is no script with a short story so you can build the building however you want, as opposed to having to redesign it, which can be deceivingly difficult.

Jen has been with Lucas for five years. The two began dating in college and Jen is finally realizing that they were in a relationship of convenience. She doesn’t love him anymore. Therefore, it’s time to break up. So she meets with him, tells him it’s over, and gets the shock of her life.

Lucas says she can’t break up with him. “Why?” She asks. “Cause you’ll die. Every girl who has ever broken up with me dies exactly 3 days later.” Jen is weirded out, and after arguing with Lucas about this insane statement, she heads over to her best friend, Maggie’s, house for some girl support.

She’s shocked to find Maggie wasted, and after picking up her computer, sees e-mails between Maggie and Lucas. Maggie ended their illicit affair a couple of days ago and he’s been trying to get her back ever since. After screaming at her best friend, Jen storms out, only to hear, seconds later, something dreadful happen to Maggie. When she opens the door, Maggie is dead.

The police bring Jen in and are none too convinced that she didn’t have something to do with Maggie’s death, seeing as she had ample motivation to remove her from the planet. But now Jen knows that there may be something to this whole 3-day curse and hurries back to Lucas to get back together with him, at least until she can figure out what the heck is going on. Except Lucas has bad news. “It doesn’t work that way,” he says. Even if they get back together, Jen is already on the clock. In less than 2 days, she’ll be DEAD.

I want to highlight the importance for writers of choosing a concept. Because I looked Jack Follman up and saw that he had one other credit. It was for a movie called “Snorkeling.” Here’s the description for that film: “An authentic coming-of-age film about love, addiction, and mental health. A young couple tries a new hallucinogenic street drug called Snorkeling which explores the highs, and ultimate tragedy, of drug dependency, via a unique journey of adolescent self-discovery.”

Okay, now here’s the description of today’s story: “A young woman finds out, after breaking up with her boyfriend, that everyone who breaks up with him dies exactly three days later.”

I’m placing the producer hat on you right now. You have 10 million dollars. You HAVE to make a movie this year. The above two movies are your only choices. Which one do you make? Is it even a question? Of course you pick “It’s Over.” “It’s Over” is 100 times more marketable – not an exaggeration – than “Snorkeling.” If you don’t understand why, I guarantee you, you’re picking bad ideas to write about.

I’m not saying Snorkeling can’t be a movie. I’m saying that this business is hard enough even when all the factors are in your favor. So why not pick a concept that has wide appeal? That gives you a chance to break out?

It’s Over is one of the better concepts I’ve come across all year. It’s “It Follows” meets “The Ring.” What a great salable combo. Oh, and one other thing, IT’S INCREDIBLY CHEAP TO MAKE. I can’t imagine a scenario where this DIDN’T sell. That’s how perfect of a concept it is.

The great thing about a great concept is that all you have to do is not screw up the execution. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have to write a great story. You only have to write a great story if you have a concept like “Snorkeling.” But with great concepts, the producers, in a lot of cases, are already leaning towards buying your script/story before they’ve read it. Cause they know how movie marketing works and they know that this is a concept they can sell to audiences.

It’s Over starts out great.

I’ve been doing a lot of consultations lately, which allows me to see things more clearly. It’s easier for me to notice patterns when I’m consistently analyzing scripts. One of the things I’ve been noticing is that writers aren’t taking advantage of their concepts enough.

They’re writing up the kinds of scenes (and scenarios) that can be in any movie as opposed to asking themselves, “How can I write scenarios that specifically take advantage of my unique concept?” The more you do that, the more your story will stand out from the pack.

There’s a great example of that here. Jen’s best friend, Maggie, has been sleeping with her boyfriend. Now, we’ve seen friends sleeping with character’s boyfriends in a lot of movies, right? This is not a new plot development.

However, within the construct of this premise, it’s the perfect development. Cause what it means is that Maggie and Lucas were in a relationship. Therefore, if she just ended it with him, that means she will die. This works as a catalyst to solidify to Jen that what Lucas is saying is real. Cause when Maggie dies, that’s proof he was being truthful.

As soon as I read that scene, I knew, “This writer gets it.” More writers need to do this. I’m telling you – you get so much more mileage out of your screenplays when you do.

So I was upset when, later on, Jen gets stuck in a bathroom and hides in one of the stalls, and the evil “It’s Over” beast starts kicking down the stalls one by one. It’s a scary scenario, sure. But this WAS NOT a scene specific to this premise. This scene can literally be in any horror movie out there (and is). So it doesn’t work the way the Maggie reveal does.

It’s a reminder to keep pushing yourself. Don’t pat yourself on the back after the Maggie reveal and say, “I’m good now.” Keep trying to come up with scenarios that take advantage of your specific premise. That tip is creeping into my top 10 all-time screenwriting tips. That’s how important it is. And yet very few writers actually do it.

The rest of It’s Over does a decent job wrapping up the story but it’s one of those deals where the couple has to go find someone who started the curse and figure out how to reverse it. That scenario needs time to breathe and, unfortunately, short stories are good for letting things breathe. You have to wrap stuff up quicker. You can feel that pinch as Follman attempts to do it. Still, the execution is more than adequate.

There are a lot of sales in Hollywood that make you scratch your head. This is not one of them. This is the sale you read and you go, “Yeah, I know exactly why that sold.”

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

What I learned: If a scary scene you just wrote can appear in any horror movie, you need to get rid of it and replace it with a scene that can only happen in your specific movie due to your specific premise.