This script has GSU for days. But does it have logic for hours??

 

Genre: Action
Premise: Following a severe, soon to be fatal, brain injury during a violent attack, an NYPD sergeant embarks on a harrowing journey of vengeance, which leaves her only a few hours of adrenaline-bursting consciousness to hunt down those who took her daughter and killed her husband before she dies.
About: Today’s writer, who got this script on last year’s Black List, has had some notable success as a TV scribe. He wrote on the Ridley Scott show, Raised by Wolves. He wrote on The Flash. And he wrote 19 episodes of the well-reviewed show, White Collar.
Writer: Julian Meiojas
Details: 110 pages

Alicia Vikander for Izzy?

A long time ago I wrote a time-travel script called “The Jump.”

It was about a guy whose wife disappears and he soon finds out she’s been kidnapped into the future. So he seeks out the people who can time jump and travels into the future to get her back.

For a variety of reasons (many of which weakened the script considerably), my main character was dying of a brain tumor. He only had a couple of days to live. The idea was, not only did he have to go to the future to rescue his wife. He had a limited time to do so, as his tumor was days away from killing him. But I always ran up against this issue of: if he was days away from dying of a brain tumor, how did he have all this energy to run around and save his wife?

These days, I would never have included the stupid brain tumor thing. I’ve realized, after reading thousands of scripts, that stuff like that overcomplicates what should be a simple narrative. If I could time travel in real life I’d go back and tell Past Carson to get rid of the brain tumor immediately.

The reason I bring it up is because today’s script is dealing with the same issue I was dealing with: how do you write a believable action movie around a highly mobile character whose sickness will kill her within hours?

Did Die Fast figure out the solution to that problem? Let’s find out.

Izzy is a 37 year old Brooklyn cop. She’s got a 14 year old daughter, Lola, who’s inherited her angry teenage rebellion stage a bit early. She’s getting in fights at school (in a very 2024 character beat, they are making fun of her sexuality). And boy would that get worse if she knew the truth about who her father was. He’s a famous bank robber who’s currently appealing a 60 year prison sentence.

Meanwhile, she’s dealing with her stepdad, David, who she kind of gets along with. Izzy and David are actually on the fence about whether they should tell Izzy the truth about her father when the two of them are attacked at their house. Some masked men want money although it’s not clear what money they’re talking about. They kill David and toss her out the window.

Three days later, Izzy wakes up in the hospital. She’s told that she has a critical brain injury and only has 5 hours to live. Even worse, the cops’ operating thesis is that SHE killed David. Luckily for Izzy, this unique brain injury allows for a final burst of energy before death. So Izzy is actually operating in an almost superhuman state. As soon as the doctors leave the room, she’s out of there.

Izzy only wants to accomplish two things before her death. One, go find her daughter, as she assumes that whoever came after her and David will come after Lola next. And two, get revenge on the people who killed her husband. This will be complicated by the fact that Izzy used to run with some sketchy cats before she became a cop. I’m not a psychic or anything but something tells me that bank robber dude had something to do with this. So get ready Bank Robber Dude. Izzy’s coming.

In regards to our “Is it possible to believably create an action character who’s hours away from dying” question, I must admit the writer did a good job.

Let’s be honest. There is no medical scenario on record that would support what happens to Izzy here. But with some fairly convincing exposition based on, what sounds like, sound research, I believed it enough to retain my suspension of disbelief.

So all’s good in the hood, right?

I would say more all’s average in the hood.

This movie is Crank. It’s a woman with a ticking time bomb in her head on a tear. And it’s hard to make a plotline that simple stand out.

However, we do have a recent comp that did stand out! I’m talking about David L. Williams’, “Clementine.”

So what was the difference between these two scripts that made that one so good and this one so average? The answers aren’t sexy. It comes back to nuts and bolts screenwriting.

David wrote a script meant to be enjoyed. Julian is writing a script that he’s trying to impress readers with.

What does that mean in layman’s terms? It means one guy is trying too hard.

Take a look at some of these lines from today’s script…

She finds an UNCONSCIOUS GUARD. Another gorehole mouth — the kiss of a shotgun’s ass. She pulse checks. Got it. Moves on.

Enter DET. OMAR NAZARIAN, 30s, fly-boy swag, but look close and you’ll see spit-up on this father-of-4’s Air Force 1s.

It’s overly specific try-hard too-cool-for-school writing, which often results in reader “double-takes” (the reader has to re-read sentences to understand them). When you’re writing a script like this one that is so reliant on its fast pace, double-take lines are script killers. Cause they create a stuttering effect that destroys the very pacing you’re going for.

The overwriting gets a little better as the script goes on. But not enough for my taste.

Also, I liked the character of Clementine more. Izzy was kind of annoying. She feels too written. Not authentic enough. Clementine felt like a real person.

How much you like the main character has an enormous effect on how you experience the rest of the story. In this case, if I had to give the Izzy character a 1 out of 10 rating for likability, I would give her a 6. With Clementine, I would give her a 9. That difference changes the ENTIRE WAY the reader experiences the script. Because when you like a character that much, you just care more about every story beat, every twist and turn, every character achievement.

Another thing that David did better was he put his characters in these situations that you thought there was NO WAY IN THE WORLD they were going to get out of. So you had to keep reading to find out if they would.

Here, every single time Izzy got in a tough situation, I knew without blinking she would be okay. There’s a scene where she takes on 10 guys in a hallway and I knew before the first one came at her that she was fine.

Look, I know that in 99.9% of movies, the hero makes it to the end. But there’s a special skill in screenwriting wherein, even though the reader inherently knows this, you have the ability to make them constantly DOUBT that it’s going to happen. And the way you do that is to put them in these scenarios that genuinely feel impossible to get out of. This script never passed that test.

Moving on to DIALOGUE…

This month I’m celebrating the release of my new dialogue book, The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written. So I wanted to cover some from Die Fast.

One of the things I talk about in the book is that certain genres aren’t conducive to writing dialogue. Fast-moving action films are squarely in that department. We see that here. There isn’t a lot of memorable dialogue and that’s because there’s no room for it.

Dialogue, I’ve learned, needs a runway to get going.

It’s hard to write good dialogue if all your dialogue scenes are three-quarters of a page long. There’s not enough runway to build a good conversation.

The only long dialogue scenes you get to write in these action scripts are exposition-driven. For example, there’s a scene late in the script where Izzy tells Lola the truth about her father. It’s a long scene but it’s all backstory. It’s not the kind of dialogue you can add flash or flair to. It’s just expository.

The good news is, if you’re bad at dialogue, then this is the perfect type of script for you to write. Because the dialogue requirements are minimal. You just need to know how to write exposition. Luckily, there’s an entire chapter about how to write great exposition in my book. So go buy it!

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

What I learned: We’ve hit the tipping point for “ass-kicking girl” scripts. They’re done. There are too many of them out there and it’s diluted their entertainment value. Plus, they don’t do very well at the box office. The last hope is Ballerina, the John Wick spinoff movie. If that does well, they may have a second life. But if I were a writer right now who likes the action genre, I’m writing an “ass-kicking guy” script.  Unless.  UNLESS!  You have a totally fresh new inventive take on the “ass-kicking girl” formula.

What I learned 2: How do you deal with difficult-to-buy-into scenarios such as people who can run around like Chris Hemsworth despite the fact that they’re supposedly going to drop dead in 5 hours? This script gives you a pretty good blueprint. Do as much research as possible to find the most convincing explanation for your wild scenario. Write a scene that incorporates that exposition. Then just GET THE F**K ON WITH YOUR SCRIPT. Don’t look back. Just go. Cause the more people think about it, the less they’ll believe it. So it’s best to address it as convincingly as you can, move on to the fun, and never stop. Cause if we’re having fun all the way through your story, we’re not thinking about the medical accuracy of your concept.

Have you been struggling with your dialogue? I have over (that’s right, OVER) 250 dialogue tips in my new book, “The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written.” You can head over to Amazon and buy the book, right now!

Today’s script would’ve easily won Tagline Showdown!

Genre: Horror
Premise: A group of friends find their lives disrupted after experimenting with a new drug that first makes them hear something, then see something, then become hunted by something.
About: This script finished pretty high on last year’s Black List and comes from new screenwriter, Sean Harrigan.
Writer: Sean Harrigan
Details: 110 pages

Halle Bailey for Shae?

I would say that if everyone in Hollywood were told that they could only market one genre and their paycheck would depend on those movies doing well, they’d choose Horror. Cause Horror is the most dependable genre in the business.

With that being said, there still seems to be an underlying ignorance to which of these films is going to do well and which will do poorly.

Big marketing campaigns were put together for Immaculate and The First Omen and both of them tanked.

Whereas this nothing little Australian horror film, Talk to Me, comes out of nowhere and becomes a mini-hit.

What gives?

The answer is more complicated than I’d like to admit. I know that the studios test all their horror movies ahead of time and if they get a certain score, they release them theatrically. In essence, they already know if the movie is going to play well. This is why Talk to Me got a wide release. Cause they saw how well audiences were responding to it.

But then you have stuff like The First Omen and Immaculate, which the studios had decided they were going to release wide even before they made them – one because of its rising star and the other because it was a franchise – despite the fact that their test screenings told them they were duds.

Whenever I get confused, I go back to basics. Come up with an original idea and then write a script that exploits that idea as much as possible. That’s why I loved The Ring. That’s why I loved The Others. That’s why I loved The Orphanage. That’s why I loved the original Scream.

Does “First You Hear Them?” achieve this? Let’s find out.

24 year old Shae Howland is so focused on dealing with her mother’s struggles with addiction that she hasn’t been able to begin her post-college career. In the meantime, the African-American aspiring nurse spends her nights with her Filipino roommate, Poppy, and gay Mexcian best friend, Javier (talk about a writer who knows what the Black List wants) spend their nights going out and having fun.

One night, while out at the club, the group tries a new drug – a sort of mangy brown pill. The clan has no idea where the drug came from or what it does but who cares!  They’re young and invincible. It turns out it doesn’t do much. They get an average high, dance around, then everyone goes home.

But the next morning, Shae starts hearing a tapping noise, like someone nearby is tapping on a window – this, even when Shae’s nowhere near a window. The others confess to hearing the same thing but when they take another of the mangey pills, the sound goes away.

Soon, Shae’s ex-boyfriend Carson (cool name) comes into the mix. He seems to have a beat on this new drug and tells everyone that they have to keep taking the drug. “Or else what?” Or else they’ll not just hear them, they’ll see them. And if they don’t take the drug again, they won’t just see them, they’ll be hunted by them.

Carson tells the group that they need to secure more  pills. Unfortunately, they’re expensive. So everyone’s going to need to get as much money as possible out of their bank accounts ASAP. Cause if they don’t get product soon, they’re going to move into the second phase (“Then you see them.”). From there, they’re only hours away from entering the third phase, which is when these things come after them. Once that happens, it’s game over.

In the upcoming weeks, I’m going to be placing a lot of focus ON DIALOGUE. I just wrote a book about it. It’s fresh in my mind. So I want to explore when writers excel at dialogue and when they falter.

If you’ve read my dialogue book, you know that I say, every single decision you make BEFORE you write your script is going to affect the dialogue. That includes genre. If you remember, I point out that Horror is one of the “non-dialogue-friendly” genres. It’s not known for birthing good dialogue.

So you already have an uphill battle ahead of you.

However, I also point out that if you’ve got a young cast, you can supercede this issue. People between the ages of 14-25 tend to have more colorful creative conversations. They’re using slang more often. They’re more playful with each other. And when you have younger characters, you’re looking to be more creative with the dialogue in general.

So I was disappointed with the lack of memorable dialogue here. It was all standard stuff. Not a single character had any unique identifiable phrases they used (something I talk about in the book). Every conversation was used strictly to push the scene forward and nothing more. Which is exactly what I told you not to do. You have to add some flair! You have to entertain, not just exposit.

Here’s an example on page 20.

Note that the only purpose of this dialogue is to get to the next scene. It has no beginning, no middle, no end. It is a scene fragment. Not a scene. It’s almost impossible to create good dialogue from scene fragments. The dialogue doesn’t have a chance to grow.

The only scene in the entire script where the dialogue is actually built to entertain is in the scene I’ll use for today’s “What I Learned.” But even that scene didn’t milk the dialogue for everything it could’ve been.

To be fair, as I said in the book, Horror is not built for dialogue. Every genre has the thing that it’s best at. Horror is best at scaring. So all that really matters is, does the script scare us?

It does. Just not enough.

The script leans almost too heavily into its premise in that the first rule (“First you hear them”) of the three doesn’t allow for a whole lot of scariness. We don’t even get our first “SEE THEM” moment until more than halfway into the screenplay. That’s a looooong time to wait to be scared.

That leaves the first 60 pages as basically “sound scares.” Are you scared by sounds? I suppose if I thought those sounds could turn into a killer monster, I might be. But here, I just felt that the sounds were annoying. It’s annoying that I want to brush my teeth but I have to hear tapping while I’m doing it. My preference is a non-tapping teeth-brushing evening.

Of course, once we get to the SEE THEM part, it gets scarier. And there is this naturalistic suspenseful arc to the game. Sort of like how, in The Ring, we knew that in 7 days, we were screwed. Here, we know that, after we hear them, after we see them, they come for us. So that suspense somewhat makes up for the inactivity.

I just wanted more to happen.

And it goes back to the dialogue. If your characters would’ve had more interesting conversations and weren’t muttering perfunctory things to get through the scenes, I would’ve been more entertained in the meantime. But if you’re giving me weak dialogue and no big scares for 60+ pages in a horror script, I’m going to complain.

I’m not saying this movie won’t be good. It’s got a great tagline (“First you hear them. Then you see them. Then they come for you.”). In fact, it would easily win Tagline Showdown this month. It even has a little depth to it. There’s a message here about how, when you become addicted to drugs, the high is your “normal.” So you have to keep doing drugs just to feel “normal.” If you stop, you descend into misery.

But I still gotta be entertained, man. And this script was only entertaining in spurts.

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

What I learned: In my dialogue book, I talk about the importance of situational writing. Situational writing is when you build your scene around a familiar situation that has rules, which, in turn, gives the scene structure. In one of the better scenes in the script, we see situational writing in practice. Our group, who is moving into the second phase of the rule (“Then you see them”), gets stopped by a couple of cops. Here’s how the scene plays out.

If today’s dialogue talk intrigued you, I have over (that’s right, OVER) 250 dialogue tips in my new book, “The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written.” You can head over to Amazon and buy the book, right now!

Genre: Action
Premise: When a Florida Keys bar starts attracting the wrong crowd, they hire a reclusive ex-UFC fighter who had a traumatic exit from the sport, to get things back in order.
About: Based on the original film from 1989. This is the movie that director Doug Liman fought the evil Jeff Bezos over. Liman made the movie for MGM right before Amazon bought MGM. So the film went from a theatrical release to a streaming release in a heartbeat. Which destroyed Liman. You can watch a fun little vignette of the story over on Casey Neistat’s channel. Fun note here. The script was written by two guys with almost no credits. Anthony Bagarozzi only has one other credit in The Nice Guys and Chuck Mondry is credit-free. I point this out because it means that YOU could be the next writer of an 80 million dollar film. You just have to write a great spec script that impresses folks like Doug Liman. Now if only there was someone out there helping you write a great screenplay…
Writer: Anthony Bagarozzi & Chuck Mondry
Details: 120 minutes

Best casting of the year?

I know I’ve demolished The 3-Body Problem enough already. But I just saw the latest promo picture for the ill-fated show: a woman with a sword.

Isn’t this a movie about aliens coming to earth?? What is even going on with this show!!??

Anyway, let’s come back to the present. Or should I say, the past. That’s because today’s movie might as well be set in 1989, when the original movie debuted. This is a throwback if I’ve ever seen one, which is ironic to say, since I never saw the first film.

Alas, that made this movie fresh to my eyes and I couldn’t be happier, cause it was like getting to see a 1989 movie made in 2024 for the first time, if that makes sense.

I get Doug Liman’s frustration with this film being released on streaming. It’s not an ego thing like it is with most filmmakers. This film was genuinely made to play in front of an audience. It’s got a lot of those silly lines that work well in a theater (Dalton crawls into Knox’s boat and Knox squares up against him. Knox: “Looks like we’ve got our own little octagon.” Dalton: “What?? Who taught you shapes?”).

And then it has these big fun fights in the bar that are practically begging for audiences to “oof” and “ohhhhh” while watching. It also has way bigger production value than your typical “dudes fighting” movie. It truly feels like something that was meant to be seen in the theater. And it would’ve crushed Ghostbusters Afterlife if it went theatrical. I’m guessing it would’ve had a 75 million dollar opening.

Alas. I’m sure everyone involved in the film will be just fine.

A woman who’s inherited a Florida Keys bar called The Road House shows up at some back door fighting bar in the middle of nowhere where she watches a fighter walk away when he realizes his next opponent is Dalton (Jake Gylenhaall). Wherever Dalton goes to fight, potential fighters walk away. As for why, we’ll find out later.

She recruits the reluctant Dalton with hard cash to come protect The Road House against its increasingly violent clientele. Long story short, a local jerk face named Ben Brandt is trying to scare the owner off so he can destroy the bar and develop the land into something more profitable.

Dalton shows up and immediately makes his mark, taking down five of the town’s toughest thugs while barely breaking a sweat. When this gets back to Ben, he isn’t sure what to do. But then the choice is made for him. His super-thug father, from behind bars, hires a guy even more dangerous than Dalton, Knox (Connor McGregor), to come in and take Dalton down.

Knox shows up and challenges Dalton immediately. The two fight to a stalemate but you get the sense that Knox was only in third gear. The promise is that another fight is coming. And when it happens, Knox is going to go all out. Along the way we learn that the reason everyone’s afraid of Dalton is that he willingly killed his best friend in the ring. So if he can do that, what can he do to someone he *doesn’t* know? We’ll see when these two psychopaths square off in a final battle.

GOOD MOVIE!

Good. Movie.

As I watched Road House, it occurred to me that the movie was quite different than a lot of Hollywood films I watch these days – the main difference being: it was stationary.

We’re not going anywhere. We’re stuck in one location. The reason that’s relevant for screenwriters is because it can be difficult to power a narrative that stays in one place.

But there is one tried and true way to do so. And that’s through CONFLICT.

For stories that stay in one place, you need to pack them with more conflict than your average script. Because, otherwise, where is the entertainment going to come from? In a movie like The Beekeeper, we’re always going somewhere. In a movie like Wonka, we’re constantly traveling around the city.

But The Road House takes place… AT THE ROAD HOUSE. So there isn’t as much to work with.

Therefore, the writers pack the script with conflict. When Dalton comes in, he immediately has to clean up the thugs that have infected the bar. Once he does that, Big Bad Ben comes in and threatens him. After that happens, a local mobster comes in and tries to kill him. After that happens, Knox comes in and starts threatening him.

And then, of course, Dalton has his own inner conflict to deal with. He killed his best friend in the ring and it haunts him every second of his life. It’s the reason he hates fighting, he hates doing this. Because every time he beats someone up, he has to be reminded that he killed his own friend in the same way.

Dalton’s entire character journey is resisting going “over the top.” He knows if he gets pushed too far, he will crack, and turn into the same guy that killed his best friend. There’s a great moment later in the movie where Dalton finally admits to the bad guys that “he’s afraid.” We’re sitting there thinking, “Oh no. Dalton’s given up??” But then he finishes the thought. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do to you now that you’ve pushed me too far.” It is the culmination of his inner conflict. He has no choice but to give into it if he’s going to save The Road House.

That’s the reason this movie works. The main character works and the writers pummel him with conflict. Things are never easy for Dalton, even as the best fighter in the world.

You know what else I liked about this movie? It harkened back to a time when bad guys were just bad because they were bad. Knox is such an over-the-top villain with no other motivation than he wants to crack some skulls and I loved him for it. It was total 1980s villain energy.

There’s a moment (mini-spoiler) where Knox has essentially defeated Dalton in the final fight and Ben Brandt, who’s injured, stumbles up and screams, “Finish him! Take him out!” You might as well have just copy and pasted the final tournament battle in The Karate Kid. It was the epitome of 1980s one-dimensional villainy.

You may be thinking, “But Carson, don’t you like complexity in villains? Shouldn’t screenwriting purists be promoting depth and motivation in their antagonists?” Sure. IF THE MOVIE CALLS FOR IT. Every movie is different. This is a movie about protecting a bar. It’s not that deep, nor is it trying to be. When you write something like that, you don’t need outrageous character arcs for your villains.

In fact, they can hurt your script if you’re not careful. I’ve seen writers try to imprint elaborate character arcs onto characters in simplistic stories and it’s like dressing up in a tuxedo for dinner at McDonald’s.

The only thing I didn’t like about the movie was that some of the fighting mechanics felt fake. It’s funny because, back in the 80s, the fighting was fake as well. The actors swung, purposefully missed, and we used camera angles and punching sound effects to make it look like a real punch.

Nowadays they’re doing this weird thing where it looks like they’re punching the air and then they’re retroactively digitally placing the actors faces in the punching line so it, theoretically, looks like a real hit. The problem is that the actors who are hit aren’t reacting to being hit properly. That’s the fake part.

To be fair, sometimes this was less apparent than others. But they need to perfect this technology if these fights are going to resonate.  We have all this technology.  The fighting in movies can’t be going backwards.

All in all, a VERY fun viewing experience. I say you all check it out.

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

What I learned: To create a character that pops, contrast their external with their internal. Dalton is the most dangerous man in the world. Yet he walks around smiling and being nice to everyone. Before he beats up the five thugs in his opening scene at The Road House, he pauses and asks them, “Does everybody here have health insurance?” He wants to know that they’ll be okay once he beats them up. He even drives them to the ER afterward!

Genre: Thriller
Premise: After a botched bank heist leaves nineteen people locked inside a state-of-the-art vault, the FBI recruits the world’s foremost box-man from federal prison so he can break them out before they suffocate inside.
About: This finished with 7 votes on last year’s Black List and was one of my personal highest-rated concepts on the list. You can check out my thoughts on every Black List entry here. Screenwriter Adam Yorke has one credit, a 2021 Spanish thriller about a blind woman called, “See For Me.”
Writer: Adam Yorke
Details: 118 pages

When I started screenwriting, there was one word that annoyed me more than any other. It was the word “craft.” I’d occasionally spot it inside a screenwriter interview, often from some ancient screenwriter who’d get up on his high horse and pretentiously claim that screenwriting was a “craft” and that in order to get good at it, you needed to master the “craft.”

I rolled my eyes so many times at the mention of that word, they have the rarest form of PTSD – retinal PTSD – from excessive whiplash.

But now myself and my eyes love the word.

We love it because we *understand* it.

And you’re about to understand it too. But first we have to summarize the plot of Boxman.

After learning about the history of safe-cracking, we meet Frank Pierson, in prison, a man who is clearly going to be played by George Clooney if the writer has anything to say about it. Vault-cracker Frank is in prison for 30 years because of a diamond heist he orchestrated.

But Frank’s about to get a lucky break. At one of the biggest banks in town, some Russians have broken into the bank’s top-tier vault. They stole the money then locked all 19 employees inside. As it so happens, the only two people who can open the vault, who must do it from the outside, are part of that 19. Oh, and, the airtight vault has only 5 hours of air for 19 people.

FBI Field Office head, Kay Hollis, is brought down to the site and realizes quickly that they have to think outside the box. He makes the call to bring in Pierson, who will only do it if he’s immediately freed once he gets the vault open. There’s a lot of red tape up at the governor’s office but time is of the essence so they get the deal done.

Frank assesses the situation and develops a complicated multi-step several-hour plan to break through this annoying vault. As he goes about his job, we learn that Vitaly, the man who ordered this robbery, is upset that his son was killed during the escape, and wants revenge.

Who he wants revenge against adds another compilation to the proceedings. You see, there’s an inside man in the vault. One of these 19 was working with the robbers and Vitaly. They ultimately alerted the cops, which is how Vitaly’s son was killed. So Vitaly wants to make sure Frank doesn’t open that vault. If he does, the inside man/woman will live!

Oh, and if that isn’t enough, Vitaly worked with Frank on that diamond heist that put him in prison! Talk about onions here. This script’s got layers!! In the end, it’s still about if Frank can crack the most uncrackable safe in the world in time to save 19 lives. And once Frank realizes that he’s been given the wrong schematics to the safe, that reality is looking hella unlikely!

As I was saying.

When I read a script, one of the big things I’m looking for is a screenwriter who can carve together thoughtful sequences. It’s not just “Cold Open Scene,” “Character Intro Scene,” “Conflict Scene,” “Inciting Incident Scene.”

There’s a *craft* to it. There’s a creativity, thoughtfulness, and a “connectedness,” that’s been placed into the sequence. Boxman’s opening sequence is a great example of that.

We start in 1500 B.C. If anyone here saw the logline and thought we’d be starting in 1500 B.C., raise your hands?

Show of no hands? That’s what I thought.

That alone places this above 90% of applicants. You’re giving us something that we don’t typically get in this genre. Then, we travel through the history of lock-making and lock-picking. This isn’t entirely creative. Any writer can come up with a history lesson.

But Yorke adds a STORY to the history lesson. After we’ve established the key years in lock-making, he provides a story about a man who created an un-pickable lock and challenged the world to pick it. We watch (and listen, via a man’s voice over) people try but fail to pick the lock again and again. Over the course of decades.

Finally, a man is able to pick the lock. We then marry that image with the image of the man providing the voice over. This is Frank. And when we pull back, we see that he’s in prison. At the visitor’s window. Talking to his daughter. He’s the one who’s been giving this history lesson, and he’s been giving it to her.

Think about that for a second. We get the lock-picking history lesson. It climaxes in a fun story. And then we connect it with our hero, who’s not just casually living his life, but is rather in prison. We also get some great exposition (about locks) and backstory (about family) along the way.

That whole sequence required CRAFT. It required thought. It required planning. It required creativity.

An average writer would’ve started this script with Frank talking to his visiting daughter and telling her he loved her or something. That’s what the writer WHO HAS NO CRAFT would’ve done. Good writers craft sequences.

Ironically, Yorke follows this great opening with the worst section of the entire script. A big gigantic bulk character introduction.

Anybody here think, without looking, that they could pass a ‘who’s who’ test on all those characters? Yet the writer seems to think we can.

This is every screenwriter. Every screenwriter has strengths and weaknesses. Some of those weaknesses are the worst kind. They’re BLINDSPOTS. The writer doesn’t even know they have them so they can’t fix them. This is why it’s important to get a screenplay consultation every once in a while. You need someone telling you you have these problems.

Once we get through another 15 pages or so, and we hear the key characters’ names over and over again, we start to know who’s who and enjoy the script again. And it’s a good script! It’s one of those scripts that has enough going for it that it’s above the “lottery.” For those who don’t know, I call the giant pool of 50,000 scripts in Hollywood that are average to pretty good “the lottery.” Because the only way you sell one of those scripts is pure luck.

The attention to detail, the deep research that went into the safe-cracking, the multilayered story, the clever subplots (there’s an “inside man” in the vault), and the fun central plotline (will this safe-cracker both save 19 lives AND free himself from prison) combined for a script that is worthy of producing.

The only thing holding the script back is the ridiculous character count. I always complain about big character counts but it’s not a criticism without merit. Having too many characters isn’t just annoying. It severely cripples the read. Cause you’re never clear on who everyone is. So you’re only half-understanding major plot moments.

If you don’t know that Character X just double-crossed Character Y because both characters were introduced quickly then disappeared for twenty pages before being brought back again… you’re missing major plot moments. Professional writers know this stuff. I’m imploring young writers to learn it as well. It makes your scripts so much more readable when you understand the limitations of how many characters and subplots a reader can track.

Finally, a reminder about the importance of CRAFT. Not just with your opening scene. Do it throughout your script. Show us that you are creatively crafting sequences that clearly have a lot of thought put into them. Cause guess what? We know when you don’t put any effort into a scene. If you think you get away with that stuff? I promise you don’t.

I just consulted on a script three days ago where I had a come-to-Jesus moment with the writer. He phoned in a major set piece. I told him, “You don’t get to do that.” Readers see that and they don’t just lose faith in the script. They lose faith IN YOU. Which is way worse. Cause it means they don’t want to read anything from you anymore.

And yet it’s one of the easiest aspects of screenwriting to get good at. Cause all you have to do is put in EFFORT. We can tell when you do it. We can tell when you don’t.

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

What I learned: Learning how to introduce lots of characters quickly and MEMORABLY is one of the single clearest signs of a legitimate Hollywood screenwriter. This is one of the things they know how to do that amateurs or young repped writers struggle with. Knowing how to set a lot of people up quickly so that the reader remembers all of them? That’s a $100,000 skill right there. It’s too wide-ranging of a topic to teach in one “What I learned,” but it amounts to a combination of naming your characters smartly (so that their names sound like who they are yet not in an on-the-nose way), giving them a quick strong action that defines them, and giving them dialogue that’s both unique to them and memorable. Do that and you can introduce TONS of characters.

Today we take on the WINNER of one of the tightest Amateur Showdown races yet!  Did you guys do good picking Animosity as the winner??

Genre: Thriller
Winning Logline: After he discovers the body of a murdered 9-year-old girl near his house, a popular horror author’s neighbors decide he must be guilty of the crime and take justice into their own hands.
About: This script won the February Showdown (First Line Showdown) by a mere ONE VOTE. So it was a close one. The first line that helped get the script over the top? “BAM!–ANDY HOLLAND (30s) slams against the passenger window, his eyes wide with fear.” That first line seems to have changed during the rewrite. So let the controversy begin!
Writers: Mark Steensland & James Newman
Details: 93 pages

Joe Alwyn for Andy?

I saw a lot of chatter about this showdown. A good chunk of you thought basing a showdown on a first line was stupid. And you know what? Maybe you’re right. How can one line tell us how good a script is? It probably can’t.

However, the whole reason I did it was to use an inception-like hijacking of your mind to remind you that the reader’s judgment of a screenplay STARTS IMMEDIATELY. Which means you have to impress them with the very first line. I mean, look at how many opinions we got regarding the first lines presented. Managers and agents and producers – they’re looking at those first lines in the exact same way.

But now that we’re past that, we can focus on the next showdown, which is happening Friday, March 22nd. “Movie-Crossover Showdown” will have you using the old 90s way of pitching scripts by crossing over two popular movies. It’s “Titanic meets John Wick.” It’s “Avatar by way of John Hughes.” It’s “Oppenheimer meets Poor Things.” It’s “Mean Girls but with dads.” I have a feeling we’re going to have some really fun pitches so join the club and get your submission ready by March 21st!

MOVIE CROSSOVER SHOWDOWN!!!

What: Movie-Crossover Showdown

I need your: Title, Genre, Logline, and Movie Crossover Pitch
Competition Date: Friday, March 22nd
Deadline: Thursday, March 21st, 10pm Pacific Time
Where: Send your submissions to carsonreeves3@gmail.com

Okay, on to today’s winner!

30-something Andy Holland is his small town’s version of Stephen King. The man likes to write bloody novels. And he’s become quite successful at it. Although, he’s behind on his latest one and it’s adding stress to an already stressful life. His ex-wife, Karen, and his daughter, Samantha, are metaphorically beating down his door to take some responsibility and start spending time with his offspring.

One day, after walking his dog home from the local bookstore, Andy finds the body of a dead girl behind an unused home. He calls the cops, lets them know what happened, and that’s when we learn a little more about Andy. When he was 18, he had a sexual relationship with a 17 year old and he ended up pleading guilty in court for it. This raises the cops’ eyebrows.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Andy notices that his neighbors no longer treat him the same. They walk by his house more. They’re always pointing and whispering at it. His next-door neighbor buddy Ben is all of a sudden asking him more probing questions about his past. And a local reporter named Staci seems to have an axe to grind with Andy and hints strongly in her reports that Andy, being a horror novel writer, is highly suspicious.

After the locals start digging through Andy’s trash at night and poison his dog, Andy has had enough and calls for the police to do something. But the police aren’t interested in helping him. Once the neighbors sense this, they get more aggressive. They start hanging out near his house more. They yell at Andy. They throw things at him. It’s getting bad.

But when a second murder happens, it gets a hell of a lot worse. A lot of the neighbors and even one of the off-duty cops set up shop in front of Andy’s house. When night comes, they start bashing his windows, trying to get in. Andy fights them off as best he can. But things get really crazy when his ex-wife shows up. It’s a moment that will test just how far off the reservation the mob has gone. And it will turn this night into the worst night of Andy’s life.

Well well well.

We’ve got one heck of a dilemma here.

Because half of this script is really good. And the other half is really boring.

Before I get to which was which, let me ask you guys: What’s more important? Writing a good first half of a script or a good second half?

Thoughts please.

Okay, ready for the answer?

Both. Because if the first half is boring, the reader won’t make it to the second half. But if the second half is boring, all that good will you built up in the first half was for nothing. I’d say the ground floor level for what you need to achieve is an average first half and an awesome second half. But any other weak combo won’t work.

This script is tricky as heck because I understand the thought process behind Mark and James’ strategy. They knew that, in order for the house mob to work, they needed to do a lot of setup first. A mob isn’t just going to appear out of nowhere. They need multiple reasons to get to that point. So Mark and James introduced half a dozen plot points in that first half that got the mob to the angry point they needed to be at.

But the plot points were so bland. Even the two killings felt PG. And now that I’m thinking about it, the local reporter implying that Andy had to be involved also felt… how do I put this? Like the way a murder might be covered in one of those Hallmark movies. Like, “Oh no! There’s a murder in town! The local baker ended up dead!”

I feel like Mark and James need to go watch the first season of True Detective or that David Fincher serial killer series on Netflix to get more into that “brutal murder” mindset so you can sell these murders as the horrible things that cause all this chaos.

But man… once we get to the mob part of the script, which begins about halfway through, this script goes from “barely interested” to full-on “impressive.” These two captured mob mentality perfectly. It reminded me of Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing in a lot of ways. Once the mob feeds off itself, logic no longer applies.

There’s this terrifying moment in the script (spoiler!!) where the ex-wife shows up and the mob rips her to shreds. That’s when I said, “We’ve got a movie now.” Not because every script needs over-the-top violence to be good. More so that you finally knew how bad this had gotten. Cause, up until that point, you were thinking, “Logic has to prevail at some point.” Once that murder happened, it was clear that logic no longer mattered to these people.

I think this script is worth pursuing and fixing. But to do that, we need to get to the mob by page 30. That doesn’t mean they have to start attacking Andy’s house by then. But they should be in their cars parked outside. Maybe a couple of the scarier ones set up chairs on the lawn. Start building that world of this growing mob. Cause you can get through all of those early plot beats a lot faster and it won’t hurt the script a lick.

As for the riot, you need to do some finagling there. I think that once the ex-wife is killed, some semblance of reality would set in for, at least, some of the people. They didn’t come here to hurt anyone other than Andy. And also, there’s a cop involved. Once he saw a murder happen, he’s probably peacing-out so that he doesn’t go to prison. It’s not like the old days where you could hide that stuff. Social media doesn’t allow it. Speaking of social media, the normal people in the neighborhood observing this are probably putting it all over social media within five minutes. There would be real cops there quickly.

The way to handle that is to probably keep everything contained to one night. Don’t wait til morning for the mob to reconvene. It’s gotta all happen during that night so that it’s reasonably believable that other people didn’t come and stop this.

Now, I had an idea for this that James and Mark might want to consider. What if we made Andy black? Then it turns this entire story into a metaphor with a much bigger meaning. I understand that a lot of stuff comes with that change. It becomes a “race” script instead of just a thriller. But I’m pretty sure that it would do better on the reading circuit. Curious what you guys think. Share your thoughts in the comments.

But this is a good script with the potential to be a really good script. And as you know from me talking about it all the time, I rarely encounter any script with the potential to be really good. So that’s a big deal.

Oh, and finally, I think we can come up with a better ending here. The revelation (spoiler) that they already found the killer was cool. But I’m wondering if we need a bigger twist. Anybody have any ideas?

Check out the script here: Animosity

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

What I learned: Earn your introductions! This script introduces a lot of characters. When you introduce characters weakly, you force the reader to remember them. That should never be the case. The reader should never feel “forced” to remember anything about your screenplay. It’s your job to make a character instantly memorable either by the memorable way in which they do something or the memorable way in which they say something. Only when you’ve created a memorable character do you earn the right to introduce your next character. A big issue with the first half of this script is that we RAN THROUGH a bunch of blasé generic character introductions. Put some actual thought into these intros because a screenplay *is its characters.* If we don’t know everyone (as in GENUINELY FEEL LIKE WE KNOW THEM), we’re only half-enjoying your script.

Here’s the introduction of Ben, a fairly major character. This just isn’t cutting the mustard. It’s an okay intro. But it’s far from memorable.