Swingers is a fascinating pastiche of a movie. Its well-chronicled history includes the actors doing years of table reads to drum up interest and funding for the movie. It was eventually shot on the tip of a shoestring with Doug Liman (The Bourne Identify) directing the film. It was a box-office dud, but word-of-mouth made it a DVD sensation. It started Vince Vaughn’s career and eventually led to John Favreau becoming one of the top directors in Hollywood. Script-wise, it’s basically a laundry list of things I tell you NOT to do. You know I hate scripts with “guys talking in rooms.” Well, this script is basically one revolving room with characters talking in it. Goal-wise, there isn’t much there. I guess you could say the goal is for Mike (Favreau) to get over his ex-girlfriend. The script sends its characters off to Vegas, where we assume the remainder of the story will take place, only to send them back to LA twenty minutes later – leaving us confused and disoriented. You know how I hate Woe-Is-Me characters? Well Mikey is the quintessential woe-is-me protag. On top of this, the script is one long string of dialogue. It’s a non-stop talkfest. So why does it all work? Well, that’s hard to say. I have a saying: “Funny trumps everything.” Even if you break every rule in the book, if the audience is laughing, they’ll stick with you. And the dialogue in Swingers is realllllyyyyy funny. Still, this is one of the trickiest scripts I’ve ever broken down. It shouldn’t work. It has no business working. And yet it does. Let’s see if we can’t find out why.

1) The Sympathy Card – One of the reasons we love Mike despite how pathetic and depressed he is (Woe-is-me!), is because he’s earned his “sympathy card.” Give your protag a sympathy card by having something bad happen to him. Two of the most popular ways to do this are through the death of a loved one or getting dumped by your significant other. If you show how devastated your protag is, we’ll have sympathy for him and follow him through anything. Mike’s obsessive yet honest depression resulting from his girlfriend leaving him ensures we’ll be Team Mikey all the way.

2) For good dialogue, give each character a directive in the scene – When bad writers try to ape a movie like Swingers, they focus their scenes on “humorous” observations about life with no real focus or structure (i.e. they’ll have their characters discuss for seven minutes why they believe Dr. Seuss was gay). For dialogue to work, the scene needs to have direction. You achieve this by giving each character a directive they’re trying to achieve. You then look for humor within the evolution of that discussion, as opposed to trying to find the comedy first and building a scene on top of that. Look no further than the very first scene in Swingers to see this in action. Mike is talking to his friend Rob. His directive is to figure out if it’s okay to call his ex. Rob’s directive is get Mike to stop thinking about his ex. It’s a simple and humorous discussion, anchored by both characters having clear directives in the conversation.

3) CONFLICT ALERT – Remember guys, movies rarely work unless there’s some element of conflict between the two leads. If the characters are always on the same page, we’re going to be bored! Mike is all about respecting girls and being honest. Trent is about telling girls whatever he needs to to get them in bed. He has no respect for them. This is the basis for 75% of their conversations. They always butt heads on this issue. That push and pull is what makes their dialogue so fun.

4) Disagreement Is A Comedy’s Best Friend – There isn’t a single scene in Swingers where characters agree. Every scene is two people disagreeing about something. It’s that simple. The intensity of these disagreements varies. But it’s always there. The first scene has Mike and Rob disagreeing about whether he should call his ex. The second scene has Trent and Mike disagreeing on whether to go to Vegas. The blackjack scene has Trent and Mike disagreeing on whether to double down. Then Mike and Trent disagree on how to treat a waitress. In the girls’ trailer, Trent wants to hook up with a girl while Mike wants to check his voicemail to see if his ex called. It’s one of the simplest ways to create comedy people. Just have people disagree.

5) If your plot is all over the place, make sure your protag’s throughline is strong – Like I mentioned in the setup, this plot (when there is one) is all over the place. We start in LA, then Trent convinces Mike to come to Vegas, then we come back to LA, then we start randomly going to clubs and parties, then there’s a weird showdown with a group of gangbangers, then we go back to the bar scene. There’s virtually no plot here! However, the reason the movie’s able to stay together is because Mikey’s throughline is so strong. He is OBSESSED with his ex. He’s obsessed with if she called. He’s obsessed with whether he should call her. The first two scenes (the first with Rob and the second checking his answering machine) barrel home the issue that Mike is not over his girlfriend. This issue is a part of every single scene, which saves this script from wandering aimlessly into the Nevada desert.

6) STAKES ALERT – Remember guys, heighten scenes by setting up the stakes AHEAD OF TIME. One of the reasons the classic blackjack scene works so well is because we establish beforehand (in the car ride) that Mike only has $300 bucks to his name. Therefore, when he accidentally gets stuck at the high roller table (100 dollar minimum), and has to double down (so the bet is $200), we know this is 2/3 of all the money he has. The stakes for winning this hand are now HUGE. Had we not established this beforehand, this scene wouldn’t have played nearly as well.

7) SMASH CUT TO – The “Smash Cut To” has sort of been forgotten but is still a viable alternative to “Cut To” that can be used for comedic effect. Use it any time you’re cutting to another scene that’s the payoff of a joke. For example, when Mike and Trent are arguing on the phone about going to Vegas and Mike keeps saying, “I’m not going to Vegas.” “We’re going to Vegas.” “I’m not going to Vegas.” “We’re going to Vegas.” “I’m not going to Vegas.” “SMASH CUT TO: Mike and Trent in car going to Vegas.” Or after Mike’s been wiped out at the high stakes blackjack table. “SMASH CUT TO: Mike and Trent are wedged between the BLUEHAIR and the BIKER at the FIVE DOLLAR TABLE.”

8) Use friendship to make an asshole character likable – Trent is a huge asshole. He’s selfish. He’s a dick. He has zero respect for women. He makes jokes at others’ expense. So why do we like him? Because Trent would take a bullet for Mike, our protag. You have no doubt, in any scene, how much Trent loves Mike. It’s that love, that friendship, that helps us overlook all those negative traits. If Trent was as much of a jerk to Mikey as he was to everyone else? We’d hate him.

9) Milk your characters’ dominant traits for better dialogue – Whoever your characters are, particularly in comedy, look for any way to milk their dominant traits within the dialogue. Mike’s dominant traits are his lack of confidence, his nervousness, his indecisiveness. So whenever Mike talks, he’s always stuttering, repeating things, overcompensating (He bumbles to the dealer at the high stakes table. He bumbles to the girls they meet at the Vegas bar). Trent, on the other hand, loves himself. So a lot of his dialogue is in the third person (“Daddy’s going to get the Rainman suite.” “Now listen to Tee. We’ll stop at a gas station right away.”). So many writers write friends who sound the same. This is one of the easiest ways to make them sound different.

10) The Choice – Remember, the most emotionally gripping scripts have “The Choice” at the end. That’s when your main character has a choice he must make near the end which is directly related to his flaw. Swingers does a great job of this. Mike’s flaw is that he can’t move on from his girlfriend. So in the end, his ex-girlfriend calls, and then on the other line, the girl he met the previous night calls. He literally has the choice of a) talking to the new girl (and therefore overcoming his flaw), or b) talking to his ex (failing to overcome his flaw). He of course chooses A and we’re happy because Mike has finally changed!

These are 10 tips from the movie “Swingers.” To get 500 more tips from movies as varied as “Aliens,” “When Harry Met Sally,” and “The Hangover,” check out my book, Scriptshadow Secrets, on Amazon!

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.