This film starts off pretentious, covering bases already covered in tons of previous flicks, then takes a right turn and morphs into a nasty good thriller.

Genre: Thriller
Premise: After her husband is released from jail for insider trading, a young woman is prescribed a new medication to treat her anxiety. However, the pill ends up having some seriously dangerous side effects.
About: Back in 2011, Steven Soderbergh was putting together a movie with Warner Brothers called “Man from U.N.C.L.E.” When they wouldn’t get him the budget he wanted, though, he took his writer, Scott Burns, and came up with Side Effects, a script previously titled, “The Bitter Pill.” Burns scripted a couple of other Soderbergh films – “The Informant!” And “Contagion.” Side Effects came out this weekend and stars Jude Law, Channing Tatum, Rooney Mara, and Catherine Zeta-Jones.
Writer: Scott Z. Burns
Details: Movie was 106 minutes. November 22, 2011 draft was 123 pages.

I keep hearing that Steven Soderbergh is going to retire, yet I keep seeing Steven Soderbergh movies whenever I go to Fandango.com. Haywire. Magic Mike. Now Side Effects. Haven’t those all come out in the last year alone? If Soderbergh’s so sick of directing, why is he directing more movies than anyone in Hollywood?

Soderbergh’s kind of a bizarre director anyway. Here’s my main beef with him. He never stokes the fire in his movies. He always keeps a nice steady burn, enough for you to stay warm, but he never burns you. He never turns up the heat all the way. For that reason I always leave his films feeling unsatisfied. Bubble is the perfect example. Nothing that dramatic happens in the movie. It just kind of keeps your hands warm. I suppose some people like that but I’m not one of them. I need things to HAPPEN in my movies. I need plot points with some weight, twists with some edge, I need moments that burn you.

What irks me about Soderbergh is that he seems to think his unique approach to filmmaking makes up for this. He was one of the first guys to start using hand held all the time. He’ll shoot movies in black and white. He’ll cut scenes with dialogue that’s laid over from other scenes. To me, these are distractions. You can argue that they spice up the viewing experience, but in my opinion, if you tell a good story, you don’t need all these little tricks.

Emily Taylor’s had a tough few years. Her husband, who she’d been sharing the Manhattan high life with, was thrown into jail for insider trading. She stood by his side during his incarceration, but now that he’s out, she realizes that she’ll never have the same life again. They’re going to be living in a 1000 square foot apartment instead of the 10,000 square foot one. They’re going to be eating at home instead of at the Gramercy Tavern. True, it still ain’t that bad, but when you’ve been to the top, falling back to earth can be devastating, and that’s where Jonathan Banks (Jude Law) comes in.

Emily is referred to Jonathan for her anxiety and depression. He prescribes her a new medication called Ablixa. The pill does wonders, improving her sex life, improving her mood, improving her energy. It’s like a 180 degree turnaround. But it does have some side effects, the worst of which puts Emily in a zombified state. She’ll wake up at weird times during the night and make dinner. Or she’ll stare off into nowhere for extended periods of time.

The side effects are annoying but ultimately harmless, so when Emily begs to stay on the pill, Jonathan reluctantly allows it.  That turns out to be a not-so-good call though because (major spoiler) a few nights later Emily stabs and kills her husband while sleepwalking. Uh-oh.

At first this appears to be an open-and-shut case, but as the lawyers and media swarm in, Emily begins to get painted as a victim of the U.S.’s over-dependence on prescription pills. It’s the medication that made her sleepwalk, that was responsible for her husband’s death, not her. And, of course, this puts Jonathan front and center in the media spotlight. Why did he prescribe her this pill for which so little was known? Why did he continue to allow her to use it despite the excessive sleepwalking side effects?

Pretty soon Jonathan is losing his sponsors, losing his colleagues, losing his wife and in danger of losing his job. Desperate to get his reputation back, he contacts Emily’s old doctor, Victoria Siebert (Catherine Zeta-Jones) to get more info on Emily. (major spoilers) Victoria paints Emily as your average depressed young woman, but the talk inspires Jonathan to look deeper.  And what he finds, surprisingly, are some inconsistencies in Emily’s story. One of her supposed best friends at work doesn’t seem to exist. And an earlier suicide attempt in her car was prefaced by her putting on her seatbelt.

Could it be – gasp – that Emily deliberately killed her husband? Could it be she planned all this from the beginning, the fake side effects, the fake sleepwalking, in order to get away with murder? And how come Victoria made a huge stock bet that Ablixa would tumble mere days before the murder, ensuring she’d get a ton of cash if the stock tanked? Jonathan’s asking all these questions, but not getting simple answers.  Is he so desperate to get his life back that he’s no longer able to see reality?  The answer to that question will determine the rest of his life.

There are a couple of ways you can take a story like this. You can go the debate route or the dramatic route. The debate route is where you tackle all sides of the debate – essentially whatever your theme is. So here the theme appears to be, “Who’s really responsible for a side-effect related drug accident?” Is it the person taking the drug? Is it their doctor? Is it the makers of the drug?

I HATE debate-oriented screenplays. Actually, let me take that back. I hate when the debate is the ONLY THING GOING ON IN THE STORY. Ignore drama. Ignore story. Just debate an issue that has no obvious answer. It’s been awhile since I saw it, but I remember Syriana to be like that. It was less about a story and more about debating who’s responsible for fighting oil-motivated wars.  Screw that. I want a story. I want clear villains to emerge. I want the people responsible for bad shit happening to go down. I don’t wanna feel like we’re just here to talk about the issue. Cause I can do that with my friends. When I go to a movie, I want to be entertained.

(spoiler) Which is why I was sooooo happy when Jonathan started suspecting Emily was lying – when we found out she put her seatbelt on before trying to kill herself, when he started catching her in little lies – It’s then when I sat up and said, “Oh my God, she murdered her husband on purpose!” Gone were the debates, replaced by good old-fashioned DRAMA. A goal arises (Jonathan has to prove Emily killed her husband). Obstacles arise (he loses his family, his job, people try to stop him). Reversals occur (we thought Victoria was good. Turns out she’s in on it). I understand there’s a certain “adult-ness” and sophistication to watching a movie that simply debates an issue. But fuck that. If I’m paying 15 bucks, I want interesting shit to happen.

Something else that popped out at me was how each of the three major roles allowed the actors to play two completely different types. Jude Law starts off playing a normal helpful engaging psychiatrist. Then later, he’s a wild crazed desperate man. Rooney Mara starts off playing this dazed depressed victim sleepwalking through life. She then turns into an evil cunning man-eater. Catherine Zeta-Jones starts off as a straight-laced respected doctor, then turns into a backstabbing cold conspirator. You HAVE to think about this stuff when writing your script. It’s how you get good actors attached. Actors mean financing and financing means your movie gets made.

Another thing I noticed was that we switch protagonists midway through the story (talk about a midpoint shift!). Rooney Mara (Emily) is our main character when we begin. She’s the one dealing with her husband being released from jail. She’s the one seeking help. She’s the one we’re focusing on in relation to the medication. However, after the murder, the script moves over to focus on Jude Law’s character (Jonathan). It was done startlingly naturally, so much so that you barely noticed it. But don’t let that fool you into thinking it’s easy to pull off.

From a story perspective, it was necessary. That’s because once Emily goes to jail, there’s no need to stay with her anymore. Everything interesting about her character from this point on is a secret (that she’s faking this). It’s more dramatically compelling, then, to switch over to Jonathan, who’s experiencing a free-fall in his profession, something that’s way more interesting to watch than a girl sitting in a jail cell. So that was a clever little move by Burns, yet still something I would avoid unless you’ve written 20+ scripts. I’ve seen amateur writers try to do something similar and the result is random as hell. We’re sitting there going, “Why are we watching this other character now? I don’t understand.” Burns worked Jonathan into the story bit by bit, increasing his presence as we approached the midpoint, so that by the time Emily went to jail, we knew Jonathan well enough to let him take the reins.

That just proved how skillfully Side Effects was written. I don’t know if anyone’s going to remember it later in the year, but it’s a strong film that’s worth seeing. The only real issue I had with it was that it oozed this depressing tone. You don’t feel good when you leave the theater afterwards. It takes something out of you. Either way, it’s the best script Soderbergh’s had to work with in awhile. That alone should be reason to check it out.

[ ] what the hell did I just see?
[ ] should’ve gone to In and Out instead
[xx] worth the price of admission
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: YOU NEED CHARACTERS THAT ALLOW ACTORS TO SHOW THEIR RANGE. Make sure they get to play at least two different types, like Side Effects does.

Do you feel overlooked?  Do you have an amazing short you believe I didn’t see the brilliance of?  Want to prove it?  Well, here’s your shot.  For anyone who submitted a short script that did not get reviewed, feel free to pitch it right here in the comments section and post a link to your short.  Maybe I missed a few good ones.  Or maybe someone here can tell you why your short wasn’t up to snuff.  Excited to see how the discussion goes.  Time to play!

Shorts Week: Welcome to the final day of Shorts Week, where I’m covering 5 short scripts from you guys, the readers. Shorts Week was a newsletter-only opportunity. To sign up and make sure you don’t miss out on future Scriptshadow opportunities, e-mail me at the contact page and opt in for the newsletter (if you’re not signed up already). This week’s newsletter went out WEDNESDAY NIGHT. Check your spam folder if you didn’t receive it. If nothing’s there, e-mail me with subject line “NO NEWSLETTER.” The next newsletter will go out this Saturday night.

Genre: Family/Fantasy
Premise: Set in the 1950s, a young boy builds a jerry-rigged spaceship to rescue the Sputnik dog he believes the girl of his dreams has lost.
About: We have an Aussie writer here. But don’t call him by his real name, Dean. He only answers to Mr. Spleen!
Writer: Mr. Spleen (Dean Friske)
Details: 25 pages

Okay, so Shorts Week is coming to a close. What have we learned from this week? Hmmm, shorts are good for showing and not telling. Don’t write a short dealing with mundane everyday activities or everyday conversations. Shorts need to stick out and get people’s attention and that means thinking big. There are two types of shorts. TRUE shorts (10 pages or under) and SHORTS PLUS (10-30 pages). I wish I could’ve made the distinction ahead of time. A nice twist or “button” at the end of a short is encouraged, as it leaves the script with a pop.

I would add not to let low/no budget issues deter you from writing an exciting short. There’s this belief that if you don’t have a lot of money, you can only shoot a quick dialogue scene between two actors. And that’s the problem. No matter how you spin it, now matter how many times you hand out your link with the warning, “Now remember, we didn’t have a lot of money,” your short will always be considered just another “couple guys in a room talking short” and those bore the shit out of their audiences. Use time travel (cheap to shoot – i.e. Primer), cloning (cheap to shoot), teleportation (cheap), zombies (inexpensive make-up), use amnesia or danger or intense situations – anything you can think of that carries with it a “must-see” quality that can still be shot on the cheap. Above all, try to be original. Just like a feature script, readers respond to material that beats uniquely, whether that uniqueness comes from the concept, the execution, the writer’s voice, or all of the above. If you achieve a combination of any of these things, your script is going to feel fresh. Which is the perfect segue to Lost Dog!

It’s 1950s suburban America. It’s a time of optimism, the Golden Age of the American dream. About the only thing America doesn’t have going for it are those pesky commies, who they’re going head to head with on all things technology, the most important battle of which is space travel. It seems the Russians have beaten the Americans into space, launching the world’s first orbiting satellite, Sputnik, “manned” by the planet’s first astronaut, a dog!

Back on earth, we meet Davis, 10 years old going on 40. Davis is an inventor-in-training, and just now getting the fever for the opposite sex. And there’s one particular object of his affection – Carol. She may be 10, but you can tell this girl is going to be breaking hearts well into the second half of the century. And she’s getting started today.

UNLESS!

Unless Davis can somehow impress her. And what do you know, the perfect opportunity arises when Carol loses her dog. She’s got fliers up all over the neighborhood and when Davis sees one, he notices the dog bares a striking resemblance to the one they’ve shown on TV, the dog in Sputnik!

So Davis enlists the help of his neighbor and best friend, Emily, who he’s unaware is secretly in love with him, to help him get to Sputnik and rescue the dog. She’s reluctant at first, seeing as the whol point of this is to snag homewrecker Carol, but she likes Davis so darn much, she agrees.

The two – who are the most kick-ass team ever – create a shuttle via an elevator and a bunch of covertly rigged rubber-bands. They’re shot up into space without a hitch and once there, Davis has only a tiny window to space-walk over to the Sputnik satellite, grab “Carol’s Dog,” get back to their shuttle, and return to earth.

This process does not go smoothly, but Davis does get the dog and the two go shooting back down to earth, crash-landing in their town’s main park, the exact park where Carol happens to be playing.

With. Her DOG.

Yup, Carol’s found her dog. Which means that dog Davis spent so much time saving is, uh, not Carol’s dog. Devastated, Davis realizes he might not ever get the girl of his dreams. That is unless he sees that the girl of his dreams has been right under his nose this whole time.

Let me count the ways in which I love this script. I love how it’s set in the 1950s, giving it a classic vintage charm. I love how our two main characters are kids. I love how one of them is secretly in love with the other. Conflict. Dramatic irony! Dialogue that’s always charged. I love the whimsy of it all. I love how two kids develop a device to travel into space in a way that only kids can. I love the ingenuity and cleverness of all the details – using thousands of rubberbands to launch the elevator, using hair spray to steer in space. I love the immediacy behind everything (they only have 3 minutes once they’re up there to do the job). I love that it’s all built around a personal core (this is really about two friends). I love that you can’t help but wonder what Michael Gondry or Spike Jonez would do with this.

Having said that, there are parts of the script that were too loosey-goosey for me. And I’ve already spoken with Mr. Spleen about them. The set-up and payoff of the bullies is weak. Their storyline is too separate from the main plot (their big scene is attacking Davis in the school bathroom). With how irrelevant their actions are, you wonder if they should be in the script in the first place. That’s something you never want to forget. Only create subplots if they’re an intricate part of the main plot as well. For example, if these bullies found out about Davis and Emily’s plans and tried to sabotage them, now they’re an actual part of the story. Their actions have an effect on the plot. We’d also, then, want their storyline to be paid off. We’d want to see them go down. As it stands, with them bugging Davis in the bathroom for reasons that have nothing to do with anything else, we just don’t care.

Then there’s the guy they buy their parts from. There’s something not quite right about the sequence, although I’m not sure what it is. The character doesn’t feel fully formed or something.

On top of that, some of the dialogue could be worked on. At times it’s good but other times a little confusing. For example, early on Davis invites Emily to the park via his preferred communication method, a paper airplane note. When she gets there, he’s hiding out, staring at Carol from a distance. Emily’s first words are, “Carol?” Now after you’ve read the script, this line sort of makes sense. Emily’s saying, “You want to invite Carol to the dance?” But at this moment, we don’t even know there’s a dance yet. And we don’t know that Emily knows Davis is looking for someone to ask to the dance. So it’s odd for her to say something in relation to information she doesn’t have yet. Something like, “That’s why I’m here? You want to ask Carol to the dance??” would’ve been clearer.

Despite this, the combination of the idea, the cleverness, and the charm made Lost Dog a real treat to read. My favorite short of the week!

Script link: Lost Dog

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

What I learned: Show-Don’t-Tell Alert – Instead of Mr. Spleen using character dialogue to tell us Davis and Emily have been friends forever, he has Davis toss a paper-airplane message to Emily’s house, where, after she’s done reading it, she throws in a box filled with a bunch of other paper airplanes from Davis. That’s one of the things I really loved about this script. Mr. Spleen always tried to show rather than tell. And if that wasn’t good enough, the image ALSO told us that Emily had a crush on Davis. Killing two birds with one stone on a “show-don’t-tell.” That’s good writing!

Shorts Week Continues: Welcome to Day 4 of Shorts Week, where I cover 5 short scripts from you guys, the readers. Shorts Week was a newsletter-only opportunity. To sign up and make sure you don’t miss out on future Scriptshadow opportunities, e-mail me at the contact page and opt in for the newsletter (if you’re not signed up already). This week’s newsletter went out LAST NIGHT. Check your spam folder if you didn’t receive it. If nothing’s there, e-mail me with subject line “NO NEWSLETTER.” You may need to send a second e-mail address.

Genre: Drama/Thriller
Premise: A sinister man on a bus receives a powerful valentine from a little girl.
About: Today’s short has already been turned into a short film.  It was submitted by longtime commenter, Jaco.
Writer: Rob Burke
Details: 2 pages

So far we’ve read a strong animated short, a strong CGI-heavy short, and a live-action script which I used as an example of what not to do in the shorts medium. What we haven’t read yet is a short that we can actually COMPARE to the finished project. Well that’s going to change today. We’re not only going to read a short, but we’re going to see what it looks like on the big screen (or your small screen).

I actually saw this short before I read it. Rob tweeted it to me a few months ago. I thought it was good. Nothing earth-shattering. But something you remember. And in a world filled with mostly forgettable stuff, that’s saying something.

It was interesting, then, going back and reading the script, because there were some key differences between the two. Those differences are worth discussing as they had more of an effect on the final product than I think Rob knew.

“Love” begins with a man, 38, wearing a backpack, waiting for the bus. This isn’t a friendly fellow. He isn’t the kind of guy you’re going to invite to your son’s Bar mitzvah. He’s a mean looking dude. Nervous, too. He’s clearly up to something.

He wasn’t always this way though, as a quick flashback shows. He once had a wife, a baby boy. He was once happy.

The bus arrives. It’s full. This seems to bring satisfaction to the man. Once on the bus, he sits down, takes a look around. Lots of people, going about their daily lives. Another flashback. More time with his family. A little girl across from him breaks him out of his trance with three simple words: “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She offers the man a valentine, a little red heart with the word “love” on it. The man takes it reluctantly, bringing a smile to the girl’s lips. But he’s still got a job to do. He stuffs his backpack under the seat and slips out the door at the next stop.

Another flashback – the aftermath of some sort of explosion. His family has been killed. Devastation. Fear. Anger. As he watches the bus drive away, he pulls out a phone – HIS DETONATOR. The valentine slips out of his pocket, floats in front of him. One more look at the phone. Should he press it? Just as he’s about to, he changes his mind, throwing the phone away instead.

Now let’s take a look at how the movie turned out…

As you can see, there were some key differences. First, the bus was changed to a subway. I’m guessing this was done because it was easier to shoot, but it ended up being a better decision. There’s something scarier about this happening underground in a subway setting.

The flashbacks have also been eliminated. I’m guessing this was also a budgetary decision, but this really hurt the short in my opinion. Those flashbacks are the only way into our main character’s head. And in this case, they told us a ton. They told us he used to be happy, that somebody was responsible for the death of his family, and therefore this is probably payback. It’s not that we WANT this guy to succeed, but we at least understand why he’s doing what he’s doing.

The next change was a creative one, and I think it really hurt the film. In the script, the girl gives a Valentine only to him. In the film, he looks around to see that she’s given a Valentine to everyone. I don’t know what this choice was supposed to achieve but the way I saw it was that he wasn’t special. Her desire to give him a Valentine basically meant nothing since everyone else got one as well. In the script, this moment was much more special. It meant something because she targeted only him. Combined with the flashbacks to his family, it shows a man who’s able to feel again, which is likely why he didn’t pull the trigger in the end.

The final big change is the ending. In the script, he doesn’t pull the trigger. In the movie, it’s open. We see him hovering over the detonator and cut to black before a decision is made. To be honest, I don’t have an opinion either way on this. I don’t know if that’s good or bad but as long as he didn’t blow that cute little girl to bits, I’m okay with it.

So how does “Love” hold up overall? Well, here’s what I took away from it. First, it’s possible to tell a big story in a very short period of time. This script was just 2 pages long. TWO PAGES! And in that time, a LOT happened. We had a guy waiting for the bus. We saw moments from that character’s past. We had him get on a bus. We had him making a connection with a little girl. We had him leaving a bomb on the bus. We had him getting off the bus and trying to decide whether to detonate the bomb. That’s over 4 locations in 2 minutes!

Compare that to a lot of these shorts I’ve been reading that just seem to go on forever in the exact same location with very little (to no) progress in the plot. “Love” teaches you how much you can do in a very short amount of time.

Having said that, there’s something missing for me. I’d probably still give it a passing grade because Rob fit such a big story into such a small package, but ultimately the stuff that happened on the bus was too muddled. In the script, I’m not entirely sure what happened to the protagonist’s family. I think that’s important to know. And in the movie, I’m not sure why you’d give everybody in the bus a Valentine instead of just our protag. While watching that moment, I thought for sure there was some bigger meaning to what was happening. But then I realized it was just…he’s one of many people who got a Valentine. Because I couldn’t figure out what the intention was of that decision (it looks like it’s supposed to make him happy seeing all these valentines, yet logic would tell us that the opposite should happen), I had to dock it a few points.

So a solid effort, but I feel that Love had the potential to be something much bigger.

Script link: Love

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

What I learned: Just showing a character’s reaction to things isn’t enough, especially in a short, where we don’t have any time to get to know the character. We need a way into their head. We saw this Tuesday with “Tigers.” Emma had Hobbes to talk to, which allowed us into her thoughts. And we actually saw it here in the script, with the flashbacks. However, once those flashbacks were erased for the final film, you saw how difficult it was to know anything about the protag or what he was thinking.

Shorts Week Continues: Welcome to the third day of Shorts Week, where I cover 5 short scripts from you guys, the readers. Shorts Week was a newsletter-only opportunity. To sign up and make sure you don’t miss out on future Scriptshadow opportunities, e-mail me at the contact page and opt in for the newsletter (if you’re not signed up already). No, this week’s newsletter still hasn’t gone out yet. But for SURE it will go out tonight. If you don’t get it, make sure to check your SPAM FOLDER. If it’s still not there, let me know tomorrow morning.

Genre: Drama
Premise: A young man struggles with having to face his best friend for the first time since his failed suicide.
Writer: Dan Sanek
Details: 9 pages

So far, I’ve been talking about what works in a short script. However, we can’t learn everything if we’re only covering the good. In order to get the most out of Shorts Week, we must also take a look at what DOESN’T work. Now I didn’t want to put anybody on the spot here, but in order to do this properly, I have to put someone on the spot.

As I said, the shorts that are real killers are the ones where two people are in a room talking. I’ve read a lot of these. Here’s the surprising thing though: A lot of these shorts (including this one) AREN’T badly written. You don’t, at any point, say, “Oh my god. This is terrible writing!” It’s simply that the SITUATION isn’t interesting. Our writer may think it holds weight because death is being discussed, and death is a weighty subject, but here’s the easiest way to judge whether you’ve written something worth writing: Is anyone going to recommend your short movie to anyone else? Is anyone going to see this and say, “Oh man, you gotta see this short about two guys talking about suicide!” The answer is no. Nobody is. Even if you write the PERFECT VERSION of this screenplay. So no matter how deep you think it is, it doesn’t matter because nobody’s going to want to see it.

A short HAS to have something hook-y about it. It has to have SOME aspect to it that’s going to get people to tell others, to trade it around. Otherwise you’re just practicing how to work a camera and direct actors.

Art Imitates Life begins with a young man, Art, trying to slit his wrists in the bathtub. He succeeds with the slitting part. But apparently doesn’t slit hard enough to achieve the ultimate goal – to commit suicide.

A few days later, after recovering, Art visits his best friend, Max, who works at an art gallery. This is the first time they’ve spoken since the big attempt. Max is a very non-suicidal type, so he’s not sure how to approach this. He makes a couple of awkward jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, and Art seems to enjoy the casual atmosphere. They even make light of the fact that Art’s mom follows him around everywhere because she’s afraid he’s going to try again. She’s even waiting outside for them to finish so she can drive Art home!

But after awhile, Max wants answers. Why’d he do it? Or why’d he TRY to do it? I mean could things really be that bad? Art explains that he just didn’t see the point in anything anymore. Not exactly the most profound reason for killing one’s self, but hey, there’s no rule that says you have to be profound when committing suicide.

In the end, Max is just happy that his friend is okay. The two say their goodbyes. They’ll see each other soon. Art jumps in his car with his mother and she asks him what he wants for dinner. Art says anything is fine. He just wants to take a quick bath before he eats. Pan down to see Art has stolen……..A BOX CUTTER from Max. Looks like Art isn’t done with his little side project after all.

Okay, a couple of things here. I’m not saying that suicide isn’t something worth discussing. I’m not saying there aren’t people out there dealing with the same problems as Art and therefore people who won’t relate to this subject matter. But by and large, people are going to see this as, “The short where two guys sit in a room and talk about suicide.” It’s depressing. It’s boring. There’s nothing unique or special about it.

If you really want to explore suicide in a short film, find a bigger canvas to do so. Not only will you get to tackle your serious subject matter, but you’ll get to do so in a way that excites others. Irony is one way to do this. What if, for example, your story centers around a zombie who wants to commit suicide? A zombie’s already dead. Zombies aren’t supposed to think about suicide. Which all of a sudden makes your short unique, different. Or maybe a robot wants to commit suicide. It could even be a humanoid robot to keep the budget down. Again, robots aren’t supposed to want to commit suicide. They’re not human enough to deal with it. This allows you to play with serious subject matter but on the kind of canvas that’s going to get a lot more people interested.

It’s no different than what a movie like, say, District 9 did. Sure, they could have made a straightforward film about apartheid, about segregation and discrimination. But that ultra-serious uber-pretentious film would’ve made about 10 bucks at the box office. You had all these deep things to say and yet none of them mattered because no one came to see it. By using alien segregation as a metaphor for real-world discrimination, however, you now get to explore the complicated subject matter of discrimination in a much more audience-friendly format.

Another way to play with irony is to have your characters discuss the deep troubling subject matter of suicide in an environment that’s COMPLETELY THE OPPOSITE of suicide. For example, why not write a comedy short where Art, Max and their dates are at a football game? The environment is exciting and full of life. It just so happens this date was set up before the whole suicide attempt and Art and Max haven’t had a chance to discuss the attempt yet. So in between plays, while the girls are talking amongst themselves, Max is discreetly asking Art what the hell happened. Why did he try and off himself? The midpoint twist could be the girls overhearing them and Art having to come clean. Art is being depressing and a total downer amongst thousands of people cheering and having the time of their lives. Again, irony makes this situation a lot more interesting than two people in a room talking about how life sucks all by themselves.

But even if you strip away all that and just look at this as a simple short about suicide, I still don’t think it works. Whenever you’re tackling something as ubiquitous as the subject of suicide, you NEED TO GIVE US SOMETHING NEW TO THINK ABOUT. If all you’re going to do is rehash a common argument, then there’s nothing for us to sink our teeth into. We’re basically told that Art wants to commit suicide because, “life sucks man.” Well yeah, we’ve already heard that reason a billion times before. Instead, try finding new angles to old subject matters. Make us see the subject in way we haven’t before. For example, instead of Art being depressed, maybe he’s the happiest person on the planet. He loves his life. He lives every day to the fullest. He sees suicide as an adventure – he wants to see what’s on the other side. I’m not saying this is the best idea. The point is – IT’S DIFFERENT. You’re attempting to see the subject matter in a way that hasn’t been explored before. Think about it. If all you’re doing is writing/shooting something that’s already been said thousands of times, what’s the point?

Two people in a room talking about “serious” subject matter is almost always a recipe for disaster in the short world. Even if it’s well written. My advice is to think bigger. You have to stand out with your short somehow.

Script link: Art Imitates Life

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

What I learned: It doesn’t matter how good of a writer you are if you’ve picked boring subject matter. Never forget that, whether it be in creating a short or in creating a feature.