Carson note: I don’t think I’ve come across a script that’s caused more controversy in the last few years than Butter. Butter is a 2008 Nicholl winner that’s inspired all sorts of hatred – most of it directed at the contest which anointed it one of the five winners of its prestigious competition. Much like yesterday’s script, The Visitor…I mean The Tourist…I mean The Visitor — whatever the hell I reviewed! – opinions vary widely on this one. Which side of the fence do I fall on? Well, let’s just say that after I read Butter, I removed all butter from my fridge and vowed never again to eat any butter. Like, ever. The script felt too cute for its own good, quirky for the sake of being quirky, and preachy enough to start its own congregation. The central conflict didn’t even make sense as the reigning Butter champion – a man who lived to make these sculptures – quit the sport simply because someone asked him to. But all of that’s irrelevant because today the stage belongs to my buddy Ralphy – the only man in the world who reads as much as I do. Ralphy was originally supposed to review this two months ago but you know what they say: Better really really late than never. Ralphy, what did you think?

Genre: Dark Comedy
Premise: An extremely depressed man finds a beaver puppet in the garbage. When he puts it on, his life takes a dramatic turn for the better. Or does it?
About: This was the number 1 script on the Blacklist in 2008, which means all the biggest readers in town loved it. Steve Carrel became interested shortly thereafter, attaching himself, but has since exited the project. It’s now rumored that Jim Carrey is interested, which would make this the 243rd project he’s attached to. So far, nobody has purchased The Beaver.
Writer: Kyle Killen

Welcome to The Scriptshadow Challenge – Second Installment. Hopefully you all read your Beaver script last week and are ready to comment on it here and at Go Into The Story. Below you’ll find my review and then Scott Myers’. Keeping with tradition, my review is about 1/8 the length of Scott’s. But that’s okay because, as usual, he gives great analysis. So consider this the appetizer and Scott’s the main course. Afterwards, leave your own reviews in the comments section and together we can determine why the script was so well-loved. Enjoy!

…

The Beaver is a pretty solid little script. It’s a thinly veiled (albeit dark) version of “Guy drinks magical potion. Life changes for the better.” What separates it from the rest of these types of films is that it’s not a comedy. Well, it is, but not really. It’s actually a serious look at how depression ruins families and how distraction and denial may work as temporary lifeboats from the disease, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to deal with the real issues.

The story follows our suicidal main character, Walter, whose depression is so bad that his family kicks him out of the house (way to help out Fam!). Walter finds a beaver sock puppet in the trash that, for shits and giggles, he slips on. As soon as he does, it starts talking…in a British accent. The puppet informs Walter that he’s here to save his life. From that point on, he relieves Walter of all talking duties. His goal? To put Walter’s life back together.

He starts with Walter’s toy company, where he begins restructuring the main toy line. He moves to the children, who at first seemed baffled that their dad is talking through a puppet, but eventually warm to it. He even brings the beaver into the bedroom to join him and his wife for a little sexy-time. Needless to say, she’s a little freaked out. Now you may be asking, “Why would a group of men follow orders from a British puppet? Why would a perfectly reasonable woman allow a puppet to be involved in her sex life?” The answer is because the beaver (er, I mean, Walter) is happy for the first time in as long as anyone can remember. And since everything is going so well, nobody wants to rock the boat…in case it falls on the dam. And that’s where the problems start. Once the beaver gets a taste of this power, he wants more of it. A lot more.

I congratulate The Beaver for working on many levels. Unfortunately, I don’t think I understand all of them. It’s unclear to me whether Walter is puppeting the beaver, or if the beaver’s a real live animal/thing with its own brain and body. I mean, of course he’s just puppeting it, but in the end, nobody can take the puppet off of him. It’s physically impossible to remove it. So has the beaver turned real? Was it real all along? Is Kyle Killen, the writer, laughing at me right now? Or is all this just a concoction of Walter’s demented depressed mind? I’m still not sure what the answer is.

Walter finally comes to the realization that a puppet is controlling his life, and decides to put an end to the beaver. Since he can’t pull it off, he cuts it off, along with his hand. With the puppet now dead (at least until the sequel) Walter can finally face the reality of his life and try to overcome his depression the right way.

If I were to note the highlights of the script, it would be two superb scenes, one in the middle and one towards the end, that give a very thoughtful and powerful assessment on how we humans live our lives. The first is the beaver in an interview with Matt Lauer (yes, Matt Lauer) and the other is Walter’s son’s graduation speech which we hear in voice over. It’s heartbreaking stuff about how our life is pretty much set and all we can really do is go along for the ride. Both speeches are so powerful and so dead-on that these moments alone make up for most of the script’s deficiencies.

The last thing I’ll say about the script is that it’s not the best script I read on The Black List, but it’s definitely the most memorable. And I think there’s a lesson here. 9 out of 10 writers would’ve explored this concept as a broad comedy. The fact that we’re essentially watching a drama about a guy who talks through a British beaver puppet distinguishes this script from every other script out there. So that even if you disliked the script, chances are you still remembered it. That’s why it got noticed.

Check this out. It’s worth a read.

Script link: The Beaver

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: As I just stated, doing something different with your screenplay will set you apart from all the other writers pushing predictable crap into Hollywood. It’s a calculated risk though because you probably won’t sell the script through traditional channels. But, if it’s well-executed, like The Beaver, you can make it onto the Black List, which gives your script exposure, which in turn could attract talent and lead to a sale.

Now for Scott’s take:

“The Beaver” is an exceptional script, a dark comedy with a most unusual hook: One of the story’s primary characters is a hand puppet — “The Beaver” — who comes ‘alive’ and basically takes over the plot. It’s extremely well-written with interesting and sharply drawn characters, a nicely structured yet surprising plot, and the writer infuses the script with strong visuals, all of which helps to lift the story off the printed page and into one’s imagination. The script also has three big areas of concern in terms of the story — more on those later.

Here is some background on the screenplay:

Writer: Kyle Killen

News: The script topped The 2008 Black List”, the “most liked” unproduced script as determined by votes of 250 Hwood development execs.

Originally set up in November, 2008 with Steve Carell to star, now Jim Carrey and Jodie Foster are circling the project, Carrey as the lead and Foster to direct.

As far as I know, “The Beaver” is Killen’s first script sale.

MAIN CHARACTERS

Walter: A depressed middle-aged man who suddenly was forced to take over as CEO of a toy company, a job for which he was not suited, nearly driving the company into the ground. Husband and father of two sons.

Meredith: Walter’s stalwart, patient, and forgiving ‘soccer mom’ wife.

Porter: Walter’s cynical high school senior son who feels trapped by his father’s genetic and behavioral shadow (i.e., he will turn out like Walter).

Henry: Walter’s grade school son who leads a nearly invisible life among his peers, except when they’re bullying him.

Norah: Overachieving high school senior, Porter’s love interest.

The Beaver: An animal puppet with a “crisp English accent” who becomes Walter’s personal psychological therapist, lifestyle coach, inseparable companion, and increasingly Walter’s ‘voice.’

PLOT

Per the ten major plot points of Narrative Throughline, the plot breaks down as follows:

Act One

Opening (P. 1-4): Establish Walter, his job, his family, and his state of deep depression, setting up his ensuing suicide attempt.

The Hook (P. 13-15): The Beaver comes to ‘life’ and asserts, “I’m The Beaver, Walter. I’m here to save your goddamned life.”

The Lock (P. 29-33): After Walter introduces The Beaver to his family, there is a big meeting at Walter’s office, setting into motion the ticking clock (toy expo), and finalizing all the various subplots.

Act Two

First Big Test (P. 40-45): Montage showing the deconstruction of Walter’s life — from depressed, non-functioning human to vital, positive figure, but laced with an implicit threat: What’s going to happen with The Beaver?

Transition (P. 63-65): On Walter and Meredith’s 20th anniversary date, Walter breaks down when given a memory box filled with photos from his and his family’s past, ending with The Beaver’s assertion to Meredith, “He can’t go back… He’s not going back to that.”

Second Big Test (P. 74-75): Unable to free himself of The Beaver, Walter’s family leaves him.

All Is Lost (P. 92-93): With Walter retreating into his original depressed state and The Beaver increasingly the dominant personality of the two, Walter cuts off his puppet hand and buries The Beaver in a coffin.

Act Three

On the Defensive (P. 95-96): With his business and family life collapsing around him, and recovering with a prosthetic hand, Walter is sent to a psychiatric hospital.

On the Offensive (P. 96-99): Walter meets with Meredith and Henry, and it turns out Walter is doing better and could be ready to go home soon.

Final Struggle (P. 106-107): Walter and Porter meet at the hospital, and confront core emotional issues.

The Denouement: Walter returns home with his family, happily waving goodbye to Porter as Porter takes off on a road trip with Norah.

And therein lies one of the rubs: While Walter and The Beaver’s relationship creates the spine of the Plotline, for much of the script, it feels like Porter’s story.

So let me do a breakdown of the story’s character archetypes, one with Walter as the story’s Protagonist, another with Porter as the P.

CHARACTER ARCHETYPES

Protagonist: Walter

The story is framed throughout to be about Walter and his relationship with The Beaver. It’s his eventual goal — to be with his family — that leads him into his ultimate conflict with The Beaver. And yet, for much of the script — almost all of the second act — Walter’s character virtually disappears. The Beaver takes over so while Walter is present physically, he is rarely involved emotionally. It’s only when Walter makes the cut — literally — from The Beaver that Walter ends up in a unity state where each day is a work-in-progress, but there’s a clear sense that he is getting better.

Nemesis: The Beaver

If you think of all those Blank From Hell movies in the 80s and 90s, this script could be thought of as The Plush Doll From Hell. Starts out as Walter’s friend, then over time dominates their relationship, revealing itself to be the primary obstacle Walter needs to overcome in order to achieve his goal: Get back with his family.

Attractor: Meredith / Henry / Porter

In order of time spent and emotional depth — as far as Walter’s character is concerned — the Attractor characters are Meredith, then Henry, and finally Porter. But as we’ll see when looking at the story with Porter as the Protag, the script has many scenes and dynamics that suggest it’s at its heart a father-son story (this is underscored by the script’s penultimate scene — the rapprochment between Porter and Walter). And yet, of all the primary characters, Walter spends the least amount of time with Porter. So in actuality, the father-son story is almost exclusively approached via Porter and his POV.

Mentor: Walter’s memories of his family

Throughout most of the script, The Beaver wears a Mentor’s mask, providing advice, encouraging Walter, and eventually taking charge of all Walter’s decision-making. So I suppose you could argue that The Beaver takes on the role of Dark Wisdom. But what ‘saves’ Walter in the end is when he reconnects with his family, spurred by the breakthrough when he sorts through all the photos Meredith has provided for him with his Memory Box.

Trickster: Walter’s depression

Clearly it provides one enormous test after another for Walter, almost causing himself to commit suicide as the story begins. Once The Beaver takes over, he manages to manipulate Walter out of his depressed state — seemingly — but eventually the depression returns. And in a twist befitting a Trickster, it’s that return that causes the final emotional cleavage between Walter and The Beaver, leading to Walter sawing off his puppet hand.

Now let’s look at the character archetypes with Porter as the Protag:

Protagonist: Porter

Of all the characters in the movie, no one deals more in depth and directly with their own emotional issues than Porter. In his relationships with his family, with Nora, and several scenes alone with himself, in a very real way, Porter confronts who Walter is even more than Walter does. Yes, Walter tries to commit suicide, but after The Beaver appears, Walter essentially flips a switch for the duration of Act One and much of Act Two. It’s Porter, who may know Walter’s behavioral quirks even better than Walter himself, who confronts again and again his own personal issues.

Nemesis: Walter

Walter = Curse as far as Porter is concerned. Walter is a deadly combination of repugnant habits and bad DNA, driving Porter to obsess if he will turn out to be like his father. It’s only after Walter has gone through his own catharsis and made the separation from The Beaver, achieving some version of a unity state, where Porter is able to approach his father as a peer and not the enemy.

Attractor: Norah

To me, this is almost the most interesting relationship in the script. Two young people, both of whom labor under long, dark psychological shadows — Porter and the legacy of his father, Norah and the legacy of her brother. Their conflict and discourse is pointed and smart, and there’s a continual flip-flop from one to the other about who is in the ‘power position,’ who is in the right, who knows what they’re talking about that makes this subplot quite interesting.

Mentor: Porter the Writer

Porter is a smart kid and he uses his way with words for his own financial benefit by ghost-writing papers and essays for his classmates. It’s his writer self that precipitates his intersection with Norah. It’s his commitment to ghost-writing her commencement speech that allows the couple to get to know each other. And in what seems like a negative experience, it’s his writing that gets him into trouble (the essay he wrote for Hector), kicked out of school, and rejected Brown University. But in the end, it turns out Porter needed to get knocked off that path (just like Norah requires a break from going straight to Stanford). However the most important moment where Porter’s writer self provides wisdom is when Norah tells him that the commencement address he wrote was not about her, it is actually about Porter. And in reading his own words, Porter comes to a place where he can finally go to meet his father one-on-one.

Trickster: The Beaver

On the one hand, The Beaver turns around Walter’s depression, seemingly a good thing for Porter. But then The Beaver’s continuing presence in the family’s life simply accentuates Porter’s concern about becoming like his father — it makes Walter even weirder.

AREAS OF CONCERN

Now let me say again, I enjoyed this script. I think it will make an interesting movie. But if I was one of the filmmakers involved in this project, I would have some concerns about how it works — or doesn’t work — as a story.

1. Walter’s disappearance: As noted, during much of Act Two, Walter’s character — while present physically — disappears as an active persona for a long stretch of time. In many scenes Walter exists as a prop to transport The Beaver around, provide a platform from which The Beaver can pontificate. And one of the classic concerns in screenwriting is not to create a passive Protagonist — but for much of the movie, that’s precisely what Walter is. Now I think that’s precisely the point the writer is making with Walter’s character, moving from depressed state to what turns out to be a fake state of wellness, back to depression, then resentment toward The Beaver, the separation from The Beaver, and the eventual move into genuine wellness and toward wholeness — he starts off passive, then becomes active. And in theory, I don’t have a problem with that. For example, in the movie Being There, the Protagonist Chance (Peter Sellers) is led about throughout the entire story, the joke being that other people actively interpret Chance’s simplistic gibberish as incredible wisdom. But The Beaver isn’t that kind of story. Besides there is supposedly at the core of this script a subplot that — at least in my view — is not fully realized because of Walter’s ‘disappearance’: The father-son story.

2. At its heart, this is a father-and-son story, but one told almost exclusively through the perspective of the son. In fact, for nearly all of the second act, Walter and Porter rarely interact. The writer goes to extra lengths to address that, intercut scenes, split-screen scenes, visual to visual transitions that put the two characters ‘side-by-side,’ but there are only a handful of actual moments where the two characters intersect. An odd way to approach this subplot, especially since the emotional apex of the script is the final meeting between Walter and Porter, however since the two have rarely interacted, the impact is less than it could be. What we carry into that exchange is the specific perspective of Porter who has obsessed throughout about his father’s shadow and a rather generic sense of what Porter, and indeed his whole family means to Walter. Both of those go right back to the previous point — how Walter disappears in Act Two.

3. Finally, going back to an earlier point, even though the Plotline is defined by the relationship between Walter and The Beaver, I found myself constantly pulled toward the emotional plot of Porter’s story. Again this is exacerbated by Walter’s ‘disappearance’ as a character for much of the script. You could try to draw a parallel between this script and American Beauty — actually I think there are many parallels (e.g., drama-comedy, satire on suburban American living, dysfunctional family, father going through a mid-life crisis) — where Walter, like Lester, create the spine for the Plotline and a major subplot is provided by the romance story between flawed teenagers (i.e., Porter & Norah / Ricky & Jane). But Ricky & Jane in American Beauty is truly a subplot, secondary in the amount of time and emotional heft compared to the various subplots Lester is involved in, whereas the Porter & Norah story seems to even transcend the Walter & The Beaver relationship, especially in terms of emotional resonance (at least for me).

That said, I’m not sure these concerns are enough to undercut the power of this script as it gets transformed into a movie. The characters are so richly drawn, the dialogue so smart, the humor biting, the drama compelling and at times even profound. Plus, the script traffics in several interesting thematic elements:

* Identity: Who are you really? That question seems to be the subtext of much of what happens in the script. It’s most prominent with Walter and The Beaver, our attention bobbing back and forth from one to the other, trying to determine who is really behind what’s happening. But also Porter in grappling with his destiny (per his father’s dark shadow over him), Norah shifting gears in her path in response to her brother’s sudden death, Henry who moves from an almost invisible entity to a woodworking machine, Meredith whose soccer mom identity is challenged by living with a puppet wearing freak. So in sum after we read FADE OUT, the lingering question becomes one directed at the reader: Who are you?

* Legacy: Can Walter overcome his depression? Can Porter overcome his father’s dark shadow? Can Norah overcome the dark shadow of her brother’s death? Those legacy issues permeate each of these characters’ storylines.

* Box: And for me, this is the most interesting thematic element in the script — the idea of a box. There are boxes in evidence throughout the script: Boxes when Walter moves out, memory boxes that Henry builds, boxes when Meredith and the boys move out of the house, the box (coffin) Walter builds for The Beaver. But then there are more figurative boxes: How The Beaver boxes in Walter as The Beaver step-by-step takes over Walter’s life, the side-by-side boxes of Norah and her brother’s bedrooms, the box of Porter’s bedroom, one wall of which Porter pound his head in an effort to escape. A lot of times when you read a script, you don’t know if the writer was conscious of a theme or recurring set of images or not — they could have arisen from the writer’s unconscious. But I’ve got to believe that the writer knew that he was onto something with these recurring images of boxes.

SUMMARY

I can see why Hwood readers liked the script so much. It’s a great read — clean pages, smart transitions, a nice narrative pull, several surprises in the plot, mature take on the material, and of course a compelling concept at its core. I can also see why no major studio made an offer on the script because of a core question: Will this concept fly with audiences? Even if Jim Carrey stars in the movie, might the buzz be, “Oh, no, it’s another one of his weird movies, not a really funny one,” and in the past, we’ve seen some of those movies tank at the box office. And despite the story’s American Beauty feel to it — a drama-comedy about American suburban life with satirical overtones — there is some distance between the subject matter and the emotional world created because of The Beaver. As it stands in the way between all the story’s characters and Walter, so too with the reader.

But this is a movie that deserves to get produced. I’m not sure if the script will get rewritten to address any of the concerns I pointed out (or others), but in a way, I’d be curious to see it get shot the way it’s written. I’d like to see if it works as is.

Genre: Legal/Action/Drama
Premise: (revealed in the review)
About: Original draft written by hotshot Kurt Wimmer. Current draft written by screenwriting God Frank Darabont. This project made headlines late last year when Darabont dropped out of directing duties. I’d tell you who replaced him and who’s starring in it, but I don’t want to taint your reading experience with big Hollywood faces. If you just have to know, go to IMDB. But I’d recommend jumping in the pool naked.
Writer: Frank Darabont

It’s about time. It’s about fucking time. I’ve been yearning for a script I could wholeheartedly endorse for weeks now. Sure I’ve given a few “impressive” reviews along the way but nothing where I could stand up and demand my readers sit down…and then read! In comes the late 2008 headline grabbing Law-Abiding Citizen. One hell of a script.

Now I’m going to give you some advice. As is the case with most scripts I enjoy, I knew nothing about this one going in. And the twists and turns are so fun that I’m going to advise you do the same. Go down, grab it, read it. Come back and read the review.

Clyde, a loving husband, comes home one day to find both his wife and 10 year old daughter murdered. Nick, the District Attorney assigned to the case, learns that while two men were at the scene, it’s unclear which one did the murdering. So when one of the men agrees to testify against the other, sending one murderer to jail and another to freedom, Nick essentially makes a deal with the devil. Clyde, the poor husband and father, begs Nick to take the case to trial and get both men indicted. But Nick doesn’t want to go through the trouble. A deal is so much easier. Here is Nick and his team discussing why it would be a bad idea (in a nice little example of invisible exposition to boot):

[scrippet]
Nick glances back at Sarah.

NICK
What do you think?

REYNOLDS
What are you asking her for? She’s just an intern.

SARAH
(deer in the headlights)
I am just an intern.

NICK
You were top of your class at Yale, don’t give me that shit.

CANTRELL
Young lady. Someday you might have our jobs. You know the issues of the case before the court. Speak.

SARAH
Okay. Um. You can take both men to trial, spend a year and millions of taxpayer dollars, and probably lose. Or you can cut a deal and at least put one of the men who did the crime on death row. It’s a no-brainer. You make the deal.
[/scrippet]
And therein lies the issue of Law-Abiding Citizen. The justice system is just that: a system. And any system can be manipulated as long as someone has enough money, information, or power. The problem is, the system just screwed over the wrong man. As Clyde watches one of the men who killed his family shake Nick’s hand and thank him for the “deal” that set him free, there’s a moment where Nick catches Clyde staring at him. It’s a chilling moment. And it’s a look that tells us…this isn’t over.

Cut to 10 years later where we’re about to witness the first killer’s execution via lethal injection. Now since this is Darabont, you know this isn’t going to be your average execution (anybody see Green Mile?). But nothing can prepare you for the horrid gruesome way in which the murderer is killed. When the chemicals are injected, we can see immediately that something is wrong. His body starts smoking. He screams in pain. His skin turns black. His veins burst. The chemicals in his body are so toxic, men can’t even go in the room without being poisoned.

Meanwhile, the second murderer, the free one, only wishes he could’ve died that easily. In a great scene with an unexpected twist, he’s kidnapped and hauled back to an abaondoned barn. There Clyde, using as many drugs as possible to keep him alive, proceeds to tear apart his body piece by piece. The man is awake during the whole process, forced to watch as he’s chopped to pieces.

So does Clyde try and hide the death? No. He actually videotapes it and sends a DVD of the killing directly to Nick’s house.

In one of Citizen’s many great scenes, Nick brings Clyde in for an interrogation. The awesome thing about the scene is that Nick knows Clyde is guilty. Clyde knows he’s guilty. And Clyde knows that Nick knows he’s guilty. So this should be a pretty straight-forward conversation, right?

[scrippet]
Nick and Dunnigan prepare to go in. Dunnigan takes off his gun and holster, lays them on a table, as Garza activates the VIDEO. Cantrell finds a chair by feel, sits down, as – Nick and Dunnigan enter. Dunnigan melts into a corner to observe as Nick sits across the table from Clyde.

CLYDE
Counselor.

NICK
Mr. Clyde.

CLYDE
Why so formal? We go way back. Call me Benson. Or Ben.

Nick sits across the table from Clyde, settles in.

NICK
Well. I’m here. So?

CLYDE
So. Maybe you can explain what this is all about.

Nick almost laughs — not what he expected to hear.

NICK
I think that’s obvious.

Clyde spreads his hands questioningly — not really.

DUNNIGAN
You murdered two people. Rupert Ames and Clarence Darby.

CLYDE
(shifts his gaze)
Detective…?

DUNNIGAN
Dunnigan.

CLYDE
Dunnigan. I thought I’d made it clear I would only speak to the gentleman across the table from me. Dunnigan glowers at him, looks to Nick.

NICK
You murdered two people. Rupert Ames and Clarence Darby.

CLYDE
Darby? I knew about Ames, of course. I’ve been following the news about his horribly botched execution. But Darby too? Quite a coincidence.

DUNNIGAN
Cut the shit. We know you did it. Save everybody a lot of time and trouble and just confess.

CLYDE
Are you going to continue to insist on being part of this conversation?

DUNNIGAN
Yes.

CLYDE
(beat, gives in)
Fine. Far be it from me to be rude.

NICK
Clarence Darby was found on your property. Old abandoned shed?

CLYDE
I didn’t know I had one. It’s 150 acres, uncultivated. The other day I found a creek I never knew I had. Hunters trespass all the time. You going to try to pin the dead deer on me too?

-Observation Area-

SARAH
I don’t believe this guy.

CANTRELL
That man is frosty.

– Inner Room –

CLYDE
It occurs to me that an even moderately clever person could try to frame me for the murder simply by killing him on my property. One of Darby’s drug rivals? That’s an unsavory world.
(off Nick’s stare)
A jury would have to weigh that possibility. What else you got?

NICK
(temper flaring)
How about video of you dismembering Darby while he was still alive?

CLYDE
That’s odd. See, if I were to do such a thing, I’d probably wear something so I couldn’t be identified. Some kind of mask maybe. But you say it’s actually me on the video? Did the camera capture my good side?

Nick snaps, lunges across the table, grabs Clyde.

NICK
You sick fuck, you sent it to my house! My daughter saw that video! It fucking traumatized her! She couldn’t stop sobbing!

Dunnigan moves in fast, trying to pull Nick off (but failing)-

DUNNIGAN
Whoa-whoa, Nick, ease off!

CLYDE
No trouble here, Detective, we’re fine. Thank you, though.

Dunnigan backs off. Clyde turns back to Nick, who’s still got him in his grasp, their faces close.

CLYDE
Your daughter is, what, ten now? That’s a wonderful age. My daughter was always so busy at that age, so interested, so into everything. Jumping around. I called her “Bean,” she jumped around so much.

Nick is easing off by inches, subtly and ineffably weirded out, unable to break Clyde’s gaze.

Softly-

CLYDE
I am sorry, Nick, that your daughter experienced that. You’re right. That video should not have arrived that way. The person who sent it should have thought twice.

Dunnigan moves in again, gently but firmly pulls Nick away.

DUNNIGAN
Okay, enough.

CLYDE
Unless there’s hard evidence tying me to these crimes — forensic or otherwise — why am I here? Why are we having this conversation?

NICK
We know you did it.

CLYDE
It’s not about what you know. It’s about what you can prove in court.
(off Nick’s look)
Your words. Like when you called it a justice *system*. You know the thing about a system, Nick? Any system can be played.

NICK
You think you can play us? You gonna take me on?

CLYDE
Clarence Darby did. And I’m much smarter than he was. Or you.

Nick advances, furious, held back by Dunnigan:

NICK
I’m gonna bury you, fucker!

CLYDE
(lunges to his feet)
That’s it, that’s what I want! That fire in the belly! That’s what I wanted ten years ago! Do it, Nick! Bury me!

DUNNIGAN
(shouting at Clyde)
Sit down! Sit the fuck down!

Clyde does, settles in, speaking calmly –

CLYDE
Or. Set me free.

NICK
What?

CLYDE
Did I stutter? Make your case. Or. Shake my hand on the courthouse steps and send me on my way.
(off Nick’s look)
I’ll even make it easy on you. I will confess, how’s that?

NICK
You’re gonna confess.

CLYDE
Let’s start tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. We’ll all be fresh and rested.
[/scrippet]
And this is where the story of Law-Abiding Citizen finally takes shape. Clyde is determined to make the system work for him, just like it worked for the men who killed his family.

It’s a great premise because we’ve all thought it before. Our justice system is a joke. An officer can forget to read someone his Miranda Rights and a murderer is back on the streets within days. What if someone angry enough, someone with the capability and know-how, someone with the resources, decided to exploit this joke of a system for what it was? And what if he was willing to go to any lengths to do it? That is the premise of Law-Abiding Citizen.

I have a feeling this description is going to come back to bite me but I see this as sort of a hyper modern-day version of Silence Of The Lambs. The similarities are limited in most respects, but the memorable bad guy pulling the strings and manipulating the system really brought me back to that initial feeling of watching Silence Of The Lambs.

The only reason this doesn’t get genius status and a higher place on my Top 25 is because of the ending. And it’s not that I didn’t like the ending. I did. But the last 15 pages were the only time in the script – regardless of how absurd it got- where I was actively wondering if what was happening was possible. When we find out Clyde is sneaking out of the jail to perform some of these murders…………eh, I don’t know. This is a man who’s killed dozens of people. Wouldn’t you have a couple of guards down by his cell watching him at all times? Or at the very least a camera? Incidentally, you only end up noticing this because the rest of the script is so damn good.

If done right, this has the potential for greatness.

[ ] trash
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive (near genius)
[ ] genius

What I learned: There’s no real traditional Act 1 turn in Law-Abiding Citizen. A series of really interesting twists and turns keep happening, but the true nature of the plot doesn’t reveal itself until around page 45. This is just a reminder that the 30 page point is a rough placemarker for when the plot is supposed to kick in. But if you can keep a series of mysteries going, the readers will be more forgiving and allow you to take more time to begin your story.

postscript: So, if you went to IMDB you saw that the movie is now being directed by F. Gary Gray, and stars Gerard Butler and Jaime Foxx. I’m not sure I like the casting here. I would’ve rather seen someone like Patrick Wilson in the Nick roll and a young John Malkovich type in the roll of Clyde. But hopefully these guys pull it off. I know I’m rooting for them.

Genre: Sci-fi Dramedy
Synopsis: A secret supercollider underneath Sparkle Creek, Wisconsin starts wreaking havoc on the town.
About: This sold back in 2001. Koepp alone made $2.5 million dollars off the deal that also included future script commitments. He was supposed to direct it as well, but it never (or has not yet) came to be.
Writers: David Koepp and John Kamps

As you know, when I see a title like Supercollider, I have to read it. “Sparkle Creek” is an older script, written back in 2001, before 9/11, before the ultra information boom, before anyone cared about the Large Hadron Collider potentially stirring up mini-black holes that could swallow up our entire planet. I’d imagine reading this script back then would’ve been quite a trip. Now, I feel like I know this world a little too well, therefore a lot of the wonder was lost on me.

Still, it’s a cool ride. The script starts out with our hero, Karen, a Sparkle Creek cop who’s about to marry the same man for the third time, experiencing a moment of deja vu so intense, she has an emotional breakdown. There are little Matrix-like blips on the screen to clue us in that something is not quite right. Karen meets Howard, a scientist who works up at the mysterious Cyntek offices at the edge of town. Nobody knows what happens up there – and up to this point, nobody has had any reason to care.

But then, in a sacred 3 hour Sunday block known in Wisconsin as a Packers game (if you’ve never been to Wisconsin, when the Packers play, the entire state shuts down for 3 hours – I am NOT exaggerating this) a strange glitch occurs in the air, and Karen and her family watch incredulously as horses run straight through their home! Everyone freaks out, running outside, trying to figure out what’s going on. Everywhere they look are strange waves floating through the air. Images that look like television shows and commercials – but they’re right there in front of you!

Luckily the madness ends and everybody, true to their roots, hurries back inside to catch the end of the Packers game. Karen, though, isn’t satisfied and decides to investigate. She finds a mysterious group of men that she follows up to the Cytek offices and then demands to be let in. She’s given permission to meet the head scientist who turns out to be…Howard (the geeky guy she met earlier).

Howard informs her that beneath Sparkle Creek, Wisconsin is a 28 mile long Supercollider (a large atom-smasher) that is conducting experiments for “the good of mankind.” Supercolliders have a sort of mythical status because they perform experiments that have never been performed before. Like trying to recreate the Big Bang. Unfortunately, nobody knows exactly what will happen if these experiments go wrong. That is until now.

Harold attempts to show Karen how this bad boy works and in doing so, accidentally creates a 3 second instantaenous time loop! Oh my God! What the hell is that??? Well, whatever it is, it inadvertantly rewrites the laws of physics. Up above them the town loses gravity, loses time, loses people (who vanish into thin air), and lose a dimension (momentarily existing in a 2-D world). Before you know it, Sparkle Creek is in some deep shit. The government is brought in and an order is given to immediately destroy the Collider. Howard has hours to re-rig the Collider to go back in time and save the people that were lost. Will he do so before the government shuts him down? That’s the story of “Superconducting Supercollider of Sparkle Creek, Wisconsin.”

Although we do find out what happens to the poor people of Sparkle Creek, Koepp decides to shift gears in the finale and focus on Karen and Howard’s relationship. Sort of a “love conquers all” thing. Was this a good idea? Well, to use a Packers analogy, in the end of movies (4th quarter) you can go with your main story (your quarterback) or your love story (your running back). “Sparkle Creek” decides to go with its running back and unfortunately, the running back isn’t very good. I’m sorry but I just didn’t care enough about Karen and Howard getting together. And sadly, I can’t pinpoint why. They both seem like nice people. And maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s all they are is nice. And I never really saw anything in the characters beyond that.

I would say I enjoyed “Sparkle Creek”, but not as much as I wanted to. I’m always looking for things that bend my brain, that make me see the world in a different light. “Sparkle Creek” merely switched out a 60 watt bulb and replaced it with a 100.

[ ] trash
[ ] barely readable
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learnd from Sparkle Creek: The screenwriting books drill into our heads how important it is to make our characters “likable” or “relatable.” We can get so caught up in this, that having them then save a cat, or help a woman across the street feels adequate enough. You still have to let us into their minds, show us their complexities, their faults, their struggles. You have to give us real people so that when you rest the entire story on them in your film’s finale, the audience actually cares. Sparkle Creek didn’t acheive this, and I think this has something to do with the project languishing in development hell.