Genre: Psychological (Supernatural?) Thriller
Premise: A ballerina competes against a rival dancer who may or may not be another version of herself.
About: Black Swan will star drool-worthy starlets Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis and is being helmed by visionary director Darren Aronofsky. Aronofsky originally tried to set up the project in 2007 but Universal put it in turnaround. Thanks to “The Wrestler” doing so well though, Portman twirled onto the project a couple of months ago and everything’s been full steam ahead since.
Writer: Mark Heyman (original script by John McLaughlin)
Details: 131 pages – March 25, 2009 draft.

Natalie will play the part of Nina.

Can I just tell you why none of my review matters? Can I just tell you why my review is absolutely pointless?

Because in this movie, Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis have sex.

Yeah. You read that right. And not just nice sweet innocent sex either. We’re talking ecstasy-induced hungry aggressive angry sex. Yeah so…this movie is already on the must-see list of 2010. But how good is it? Does the story that surrounds the sex disappoint or excel?

Black Swan is a very intriguing story with a quiet slow burn. So slow, in fact, that I nearly lost interest halfway through it. Heyman focuses on the tiniest of things. The way shoes sound as they click against the pavement. The way a slight breeze tussles at your hair. You know how as film evolved, we’ve been encouraged to cut out all the meaningless stuff? For example, instead of showing a character walk from their house to the train, we should just cut to the train? Yeah, Heyman doesn’t do that. If someone needs to walk somewhere, we walk with them. And after awhile, it really begins to test your patience. And if you’re looking for the culprit in the 131 page screenplay length, that’s where you’ll find him. But it’s pretty clear these are the moments Aronofsky is interested in in Black Swan. He wants you living every second of this character’s life, lulling you into a sense of security so that you get used to the mundane. That way when the extraordinary happens, it slams into you like an SUV.

Wrestler success has allowed him to finally make the movies he wants to make.

Nina is a ballerina in one of New York City’s top ballet companies. She appears to be the only sweet girl of the bunch however, as it’s established early on that these companies are packed with jackals, every seemingly sweet-natured princess scheming to backstab the girl next to her if only it gets her one rung higher on the ladder. High School’s got nothing on these bitches. Nina’s sorta friend, Beth, who has been the school’s running lead in all the productions, is nearing the end of her career, and everyone’s gunning to take her place in the next big ballet: Swan Lake.

The lead role is the part of Odette, the Swan Queen. The role is complicated by the fact that the ballerina must be able to play both sweet, the “White Swan,” and dark, the “Black Swan”. It is the ultimate challenge. Of course, Nina has the white swan down. But does she have the darkness to nail the Black Swan?

The director of the production is the handsome but sinister Yevna. He sees something in Nina but before he gives her the part, he wants to speak with her privately. It is there, in his office, that he pries into Nina’s mind, searching for her dark side, even going so far as to force a kiss on her. But it’s unclear whether Yevna is trying to seduce Nina or simply seeing how she’ll react. As the sweet polite girl she is. Or as the raging disturbed woman she will have to be. In the end, Nina is given the role. But it’s clear Yevna has doubts as to if she can pull it off.

As the days go by and Nina searches desperately to find her darkness, she begins noticing another girl around town and at the ballet company who looks exactly like her. But not just “exactly.” We’re talking identical. Yet every time Nina tries to get close, the girl turns away or hides her face. Finally, Nina meets this mysterious doppelganger after rehearsal. Her name is Lily. And while she definitely looks like Nina, she’s by no means an identical replica. Was it Nina’s imagination perhaps?

Whereas Nina is calculated about every move she makes, Lily is the opposite – uncaring and uninterested in perfection. Everything she does seems so…effortless. The two begin a tepid friendship, one which Nina is constantly trying to pull away from. But while she is afraid of Lily, she is also drawn to her in some way. And then there’s those strange fleeting moments where Lily looks exactly like her.

Umm…Yes.

As they get closer to production, Nina’s world starts to spin out of control as Lily befriends Yevna and continues to move up the ballet company ladder. The girls will go out, get drunk, and Nina will show up at rehearsal late the next day only to find that Lily is standing in for her. Is Lily scheming to steal her role as the Swan Queen? Or is Nina making this all up in her head in order to find her dark side? That is the ultimate question.

As in all Aronofsky movies, there are some controversial moments. In one scene, Nina basically gets raped by Yevna. It’s cold and off-putting, and yet it’s an important moment as it demonstrates just how high the stakes are in this seemingly innocent world. The script is steeped in darkness (surprise surprise) and makes you feel so uncomfortable at times that you can’t read it without constantly resituating yourself.

Black Swan is an interesting read. As I mentioned before, it takes its time. But if there’s any director who knows how to make the quiet moments work, it’s Aronofsky. He’s rarely boring as a director. Much has been made of the “supernatural” aspect of Black Swan, with some even comparing it to, “The Others.” (one of my favorite scary films btw) But I never saw it that way. To me it was clear that Nina was always imagining her relationship with Lily. I never doubted that Lily was real. But I believe Nina made up the more elaborate aspects of their friendship in order to discover her dark side. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a talking point of the film after its release, which, if the film is good, will surely help word of mouth and repeat business.

As a screenplay, I thought Black Swan was good. It definitely could’ve moved faster and I would’ve preferred we get some answers sooner instead of being strung along with weird unexplained moment after weird unexplained moment. After awhile that just gets exhausting. But the feel of the story is just so original. It’s not quite like anything I’ve read or seen before. If you like your scripts dark and moody, check out Black Swan for sure.

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] barely kept my interest
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned: Don’t be afraid to explore the details in your screenplay if they help tell the story. It’s okay to create mood and atmosphere. Just make sure you don’t go overboard with it. I don’t think Black Swan would have a prayer on the spec market because it’s just sooooooooo slow at times. But some movies require you to indulge in the seemingly mundane things. That’s fine if you know when to stop.

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I’ve been meaning to put a review of this up forever. Luckily, Roger has rescued me with this in-depth look at “Killing On Carnival Row.” As you can see, he absolutely loves the script. And I know another long-time reader who thinks it’s a masterpiece as well. I haven’t read it. But if you’re into this kind of world, chances are you’ll react the same way these guys did.

Genre: Dark, urban fantasy. Murder Mystery. Horror. Science Fiction. Crime noir. Adventure.
Premise: In the city of The Burgue, a police inspector pursues a serial killer who is targeting fairies.
About: Sold to New Line Cinema in late 2005. Immediately attracted the attention of Guillermo Del Toro and Hugh Jackman. Del Toro dropped out of the project and Neil Jordan is currently attached to direct. This is Beacham’s first spec script. Written in his early 20’s. Beacham was hired to write “The Clash of the Titans” remake and is also writing “The Tanglewood” for Arnold and Anne Kopelson.
Writer: Travis Beacham.

The Burgue. A Third Man Vienna-esque city. Separated into four separate zones that are controlled by one central zone, Oberon Square.

We’ve got Argyle Heights, otherwise known as the Academic District. There’s the Docklands, center of industrialization and shipping. Thirdly, Finistere Crossing. The human zone.

Then there’s Carnival Row.

The Fairie Quarter.

Home to the sordid fairie brothels.

Someone’s murdering fairies and leaving their broken and exsanguinated bodies on display, clipped of their wings. No. Scratch that. Their moth-like wings have been sawed from their torsos, leaving torn alabaster skin and the rawness underneath in their absence. And of course, there’s the twin tell-tale puncture wounds in their necks.

The Burgue.

City of soot and sorcery. Humans and monsters. Fairie whores and drug peddlin’ dwarves.

An urban fantasist’s wet dream, told in Art Noveau-scope.

Guys, this script is amazing. It’s a mordant phantasmagoria. A Victorian penny dreadful, its hard-bond pulp pages soaked in absinthe and hallucinogenic fey blood and set ablaze with the fire from an exploding gas-lamp. It’s Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” theurgically amalgated (or twined) to Raymond Chandler’s “The Long Goodbye”.

It’s Marlowe trying to solve a murder mystery in Bas-Lag. (And if you get this reference dear, astute readers, I tip my hat to you.)

And guess what?

It fucking works.

So who’s our Philip Marlowe, Rog?

Inspector Rycroft Philostrate, of The Burgue Metropolitan Constabulary. Fairie sympathizer.

Yep. With a city census that reads like an AD&D Monster’s Compendium, the writer capitalizes on his setting and its inhabitants and deftly weaves in social criticism as part of his theme. With the focus on racism and sexism.

Magnify the thematic lens and you’ll find a character struggling with the difficulties that revolve around a compelling interracial romance in an unforgiving city such as The Burgue.

It’s like Spike Lee’s “Do The Right Thing” and “Jungle Fever” had inter-species babies with characters out of a China Mieville novel. The anti-human propaganda pamphlet, The Screaming Banshee, details the crimes and wrong-doings of the human government in Oberon Square against the fey race.

Most humans look down on the fairies. Completely happy to make sure they’re confined to their little Tirnanog ghetto. But to Mayor Montague Boniface III’s wife, Dame Whitley Boniface, the fair, winged race deserve equal rights. After all, the fey are painters, poets and musicians. They are a cultural treasure. The Dame is what you might call a fairie activist.

But in the mayor’s mind, their art is not so much the skilled performance artistry of the courtesan, but the wet and sloppy fellatio one can procure for five guilder from the down-on-her-luck pix street-walker inside of a black, horse-drawn carriage.

The tension in The Burgue is as palpable as the Gothic fog that covers its streets.

And our guy, Philo, is not only a detective for a homicide department that is mostly staffed with pix-hatin’ sergeants, but a human who is in lust and love with Tourmaline La Roux, a fairie courtesan employed at Le Chambre De Madame Mab.

He’s torn between rescuing her from her life as a fairie escort and the risk that comes with it: Being ridiculed and slandered by his mates and fellow inspectors and constables if he were to be seen hand-in-hand with a pixie. It could mar his reputation, his career.

But when Tourmaline is de-winged and turned into a husk by Unseelie Jack, the case becomes a quest for salvation. Philo charges recklessly into The Burgue’s underworld, consumed with vengeance and guilt, obsessed with finding his lover’s killer.

A ticking clock hovers over Philo as he becomes a suspect, and he not only must exonerate himself as the suspected killer, but he must do something he was never able to do while Tourmaline was alive…

Stand up in courage for her. Show the world that he loves her by finding her killer…whatever hesheit is…and bringing hesheit to justice.

What’s so great about this script?

The invention. The imagination. The elegant world-building. The social commentary. The murder mystery and how it plays out. The characters. The dialogue. The action. The monsters. The magic. The gore. The humor. The emotion.

All rendered through the pen of a screenwriter who has uncanny control of his craft. This is a seamless screenplay. And it’s that much more impressive when you think of the sheer spectacle of all the ingredients bubbling in this witch’s pot.

It requires a delicate balance on precarious scales to tell a tale that is such an ambitious confluence of genres.

Especially when Fantasy is one of these genres.

If one setting on your control panel is slightly off, you can lose all sense of verisimilitude. You have to know your conventions in-and-out, and above all, you have to write your characters like they are real people.

This is exciting. Not only has someone turned to the genre of what China Mieville has dubbed Weird Fiction, the mash-up of science fiction, urban fantasy, sword-and sorcery, horror, gothic romance, et al., but they did so with such effective execution.

In screenplay format.

Screenplays are a whole other ball-game. These are the type of stories normally told in prose fiction, in sprawling novels and the odd collection of short stories put out by the independent press. In some YA fiction.

What Peter Straub calls The New Fabulists.

Go into the bookstore and look for authors like Neil Gaiman, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Jim Butcher, Alan Campbell, Charlie Huston, Richard K. Morgan, Kelly Link, Gene Wolfe and look at the stories. It’s smart genre fare that can’t always be easily shoved into categories because it attacks all genres from all sides.

“Killing on Carnival Row” is Dark Fantasy done well. Something we don’t see a lot of, but something we’re bound to see more of.
Tell us about some of the novelties, the flights of imagination you like.

1.) The Special Loupgarou Unit. In our world, the police have K-9 Units. Well, in The Burgue, the constables have young men manacled to control leashes. Syringes are inserted into IV tubes in their wrists, and suddenly eyes turn yellow and teeth sharpen as an induced metamorphosis transforms men into wolves. A Werewolf Unit. What’s not to love?

2.) The Drakes. In our world, the police have birds, or helicopters. In Philo’s world, the constabulary has Drakes. Giant mechanical dragonflies operated by a human pilot. On the back, a gunner mans a Gatling gun should they need firepower. Gatling guns and steampunk insects are always okay in my book.

3.) The Haruspex. A Macbethean soothsayer employed by The Burgue Metropolitan Constabulary. She can read minds. She sees the last memories of corpses. Her visions are just as valuable as an eye-witness testimony, and just as admissable.

4.) Mabsynthe. Iridescent green syrup distilled from the blood of fairies. Mabsynthe junkies are kinda like opium junkies. You pour the green treacle into a glass bottle affixed with a hose and pipe. A hookah. Then you light up and inhale the smoke through a pipe. Hallucinogenic. Most dealers combine the blood of several fairies to jumble up the visions. If you’re taking a hit from Mabsynthe that’s just from one fairie, you enter the present mind of the fairie. See what she sees. Feel what she feels. A really inventive plot device that comes into play later in the story.

5.) Twining. Theurgic Amalgamology. The manipulation of biology through advanced technology and ancient magics. One of the tools of twining is a magical black glove. Fueled by magic and science. The wearer wields it to manipulate biology. There’s some bodily havoc in the 3rd act when Philo’s side-kick, Vignette, dons the glove and proceeds to kick some villainous ass. With her fist. Fucking fantastic.

6.) Unseelie Jack. Okay, I’m not gonna spoil this. But I read this script before I went to bed. Mistake. I had nightmares about hesheit. Nightmares. The only thing I will say, this is a great creature feature villain. Like Maryann Forrester in True Blood, hesheit is something truly unique and new and cool. But it’s simple and old at the same time. And it’s a detail that probably helped the writer get a job on the “Clash of the Titans” remake.

Wow. This sounds insane. This insanity doesn’t drown out the story or characters?

Not at all. For the most part, when these novelties and oddities aren’t used as plot devices or as characters, this stuff is presented in snippets of detail to help create the atmosphere. It’s exquisite and balanced world building.

Philo and his journey is always in the foreground, always the center of the plot in this baroque world. And it’s a great journey. In Shane Black-fashion, Philo picks up a buddy at the beginning of the 2nd Act, and she’s a great character.

Vignette is a faerie Philo saves from Unseelie Jack. He finds her after her wings have been sawed off and right before she’s about to be drained. He nurses her back to health, and she helps him hide from the dragnet enforced by his former employers, The Metropolitan Constabulary.

After all, who knows the nooks and crannies, the secret places of this cobble-stone and gaslight city better than a fairie?

She’s also the anonymous star writer for The Screaming Banshee, and she uses the headquarters for its secret printing press, located in a mini-necropolis underneath The Old Fairie Cemetery, to hide Philo.

Together, their budding relationship is best described as a Murtagh-Riggs and Han-Leia amalgam. You’ve got the witty banter and the developing romance.

And it’s sexy as hell.

The character highlight for me was a surprising, revelatory character moment where Philostrate reveals the story of his past. What makes him who he is today. The stuff that’s forged his character. He’s a human refugee from Hy-Brasil, the city of flowers. His parents were officers in The Burguish Imperial Navy stationed in Tirnanog. They were part of the Human Concession in this foreign land. They perished in the Scourge that drove the fey from their lands, and Philo was saved by an old fairie opera singer.

It’s good stuff. It bonds to you.

What else was impressive?

Reading this script is like feasting on language. But it doesn’t feel over-written. There’s an economy to the lush prose, a restraint. I suppose what impressed me the most was what some of these passages evoked.

There were moments where I felt like I was reading something by Bradbury, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Byron and Mary Shelley. And I can’t think of any higher compliment than that.

Here’s a glimpse:

It climbs up onto a rock in the distance. Stretching, contorting, opening its mouth impossibly wide.

BOTTOM
This bit still gives me the creeps.

A human face pushes through the open mouth. A whole head emerges. Curly red hair. A hand. An arm. A shoulder.

The girl underneath pulls off the dark sealskin as if she’s sliding out of a tight leather skirt.

MOIRA stands on the rock in her “human” form, completely nude. Slim fair-skinned body flecked in a blizzard of light pink freckles. Her ears pointed like a faerie’s.

Philostrate politely turns away. Bottom stares slack-jawed with a mix of morbid fascination and disgust.

EXT. BOULDER ON THE BEACH — MOMENTS LATER

Moira dresses herself from a heap of clothes strewn on the rock. Philostrate and Bottom approach.

PHILOSTRATE
Good morning Miss Moira. I’m Inspector Philostrate.

She meets him with sharp eyes, bright as emeralds. Inhuman.

PHILOSTRATE (CONT’D)
You found the body, did you?

Moira nods. She picks up the shed sealskin, singing softly as she pets it. The soft pelt purrs back. Bottom grimaces.

BOTTOM
A separate creature, is it?

Another curt, silent nod.

PHILOSTRATE
Let’s not waste the lady’s time.
(to Moira)
You can feel free to talk. I’m not fluent in selkie-speak, but I can muddle through.

Finally, she speaks. Her language, a song, a dozen voices in one, flowing eerie harmonies.

MOIRA
Corpse caught in backwards currents/moth caught in the cobweb of creation/clipped wings plucked from silken firmaments/ sticky strands clinging/sinister spider spinning/ poor poor singless wingless pixie

BOTTOM
You want me to write this bilge down?

The 3rd act is intense. Satisfying. A gory, noir-infused Hammer Horror extravaganza.

And most of all…our hero not only gets what he wants at the end of his journey, the writer gives him what he needs. Redemption.

Script link: No link

[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] barely kept my interest
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[x] genius

What I learned: Um, what a unique and brilliant spec script looks like? Seriously, this script should be required reading for anyone who is interested in writing smart genre fare. The attention to detail, the focus on character, the rising action, the tight scenes and transitions, the seamlessly woven plot and sub-plot and how they orbit around each other like twin satellites, broadcasting the overarching story. Read this script. Get a feel for the foundation, the architecture. You’ll get suspense, horror, action, melodrama, dread, love, passion, guilt, and salvation. How to balance spectacle with quiet character moments. But most of all, enjoy its many wonders.

Wow! Genius. I actually wrote Roger back and told him, “You understand that I haven’t given a single ‘genius’ review on the site yet, right?” I explained that I’ll probably only give 1 or 2 geniuses a year. Was he positive he wanted to go with a perfect rating? He reaffirmed his stance. So there you have it. The first official genius rating on Scriptshadow. (although I haven’t reviewed them, the top 3 in my Top 25 all carry ‘genius’ ratings). Enjoy the script!

Genre: Comedy
Premise: After a publisher changes a writer’s debut novel about a deadly assassin from fiction to nonfiction, the author finds himself thrust into the world of his lead character, and must take on the role of his character for his own survival.
About: This is Morris’ first script sale. He optioned one screenplay before this one. More on Morris tomorrow, when he gives GITS and Scriptshadow an “Assassin” interview.
Writer: Jeff Morris

Belize!

So when Scott and I published our 5 script choices for this month’s Scriptshadow Challenge, I quickly received an e-mail from Jeff Morris, the writer of The True Memoirs Of An International Assassin. He was receptive and a great sport about his script being reviewed. But I was a little nervous. Assassin was looking like it was going to win. What if I didn’t like it? I remembered back to the days when all I had to do at Scriptshadow was review scripts. When did everything become so complicated?? Well color me relieved. Assassin was a fun breezy comedy with a memorable cast of characters. Was it perfect? No. I had a few quibbles here and there. But I’ll get to those later. First, let’s talk about the story.

Joe is a struggling spy novel writer who’s a bit of a pussy. He’s the kind of guy the boss knows he can make work late. Lucky for Joe, he’s just finished his latest manuscript, a spy thriller about the world’s most cunning international assassin. He sends it off to every publisher in town and every publisher in town immediately rejects him (hey, beats waiting). Just when Joe is ready to give up on his dream , he gets “the call.” It’s one of the publishing houses. They love his book and want to put it into print right away! Joe is ecstatic. Years of hard work finally paying off (ahem, real-life parallels here?) and Joe gets to do what every one of us dreams of doing, walk into that office and tell your boss to f8ck off (it doesn’t exactly work out that way but kudos to Joe for trying).

Joe eagerly anticipates his book’s grand opening and when it finally comes, he races into the store, straight to the new fiction section only to realize – wait a minute – his book isn’t there. He hurries up to the cashier and informs her of the problem. “Not a problem,” she says. “The book’s in the non-fiction section.” The non-fiction section? Joe is confused. His book’s not non-fiction. He heads over and cautiously picks up one of his books only to find out that the word “True” has been added to the title. Uh-oh. This is bad. A concerned Joe bee-lines over to his publisher and lets him know that a giant mistake has been made. No mistake, his slimy publisher assures him. He simply made a business decision. As a novel, it sucked. But as a true story, it’s spectacular. Joe fights viciously to get this wrong righted, even threatening to go to the authorities. But the publisher makes it clear that if Joe screws them in any way, he’ll be sued right out of existence.

Pretty soon, Joe is doing Matt Lauer interviews and grumpily going along with his alleged “former career,” even becoming a bit of a celebrity around town. He gets so sick of living a lie though, so sick of all the false attention, he decides it’s time to get away. Too much of a pushover to ever ask for a vacation at his old job, Joe thinks a vacation will do him right. He settles on the beautiful South American tropical paradise of Belize, where surely no one will know him.

As soon as Joe lands he’s kidnapped by the local ruling ganglord, El Toro, a kind of ‘Scarface-with-a-sense-of-humor’ thug. El Toro has el-reado Joe’s booko and is convinced that Joey’s the dangerous international assassin, Colt Rodgers, from the book. So El Toro orders Joe to unretire and kill the Prime Minister of Belize! Joe tries desperately to plead his case (“I’m not who you think I am”) but El Toro is a very insistent man and offers Joe ridiculous amounts of money. In the end, Joe is given a trunk full of a guns and a mandate to kill the Prime Minister.

Complicating matters is smokin-hot journalist Claire, a former high school classmate of Joe’s who smells something fishy about this whole “international assassin” thing. From what she remembers, Joe couldn’t assassinate a prom invite. Determined to expose him and his scam, she flies to Belize and “accidentally” bumps into Joe, deceitfully cozying up to him so she can catch him in his lie. Poor Joe falls for it hook, line and sinker, and falls for the girl that’s only using him for a story. Joe also manages to upset the rival ganglord, Jesus, who’s a lot like El Toro without the sense of humor. Jesus, on the take with the dirty Prime Minister, now wants to assassinate Joe.

Assassin is the perfect example of how to approach a spec script. Come up with a good hook, keep the story simple, and exploit the premise to its maximum potential. In fact, Assassin kinda read like a good vacation. It was fun, relaxing, and time flew by. It wasn’t all sunscreen and mai-tais though. I did have some issues with the script. The first was the lack of a clear goal for Joe. He’s been paid to kill the prime minister, but we all know he’s not going to do it. So what is Joe doing exactly? For awhile there, I wasn’t sure. This leads into my second problem: the lack of urgency. El Toro is funny, but he’s not scary. Nor is he around enough for us to feel like Joe is in any danger. Had El Toro been more intense and given Joe a more definitive time frame in which he had to kill the Prime Minister, I feel like the script would’ve gained a sense of urgency, which in turn would’ve led to a more fearful Joe, which in turn would’ve led to a story with higher stakes (studio term, I know. But I felt like it applied here).

Luckily, the script was funny enough to mask most of these issues. I loved the bumbling idiot CIA agents, convinced that Joe is indeed Colt Rodgers. I loved the alcoholic’s anonymous bodyguard El Toro sets Joe up with, and I loved how Joe steps back every once in awhile just to wonder, “How the f*ck did I get into this situation??” My favorite scene in the script is when he goes to the Prime Minister to warn him that El Toro is trying to kill him, and accidentally ends up – well – assassinating the prime minister.

The humor is pretty broad overall, but if you’re into Farrely Brothers movies, this is going to be right up your alley. Jack Black would be perfect in this roll so Jeff, if you and your agent are listening, it’s time to give Mr. Black a call. Leave your own thoughts on the script down below. I’ll be interested to hear what you guys think. If you haven’t downloaded “Assassin” yet, I suggest you give it a spin. It’s a fun ride.

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

What I Learned: Stay focused on your story. Make sure every scene is about *that* story. You can explore interesting tangents in your character-driven pieces, but if you’re writing a spec (something with an interesting hook that’s story-driven), never go too far off-point. “Assassin” does a really good job of this.

And now, here’s Scott’s analysis from Go Into The Story…

“The True Memoirs of an International Assassin”

Written by Jeff Morris

Character Archetypes

Protagonist – Joe Schmidt

His Disunity state at the beginning is Joe the Author vs. Colt the Assassin. Eventually he has to claim his ‘Inner Colt’ to become the hero he needs to be in order to save Claire.

Nemesis – El Toro / Jesus

El Toro forces Joe to take on the task of assassinating the Prime Minister, then Jesus takes over the antagonist role, leading to their eventual Final Struggle.

Attractor – Claire

The growing romance between Claire and Joe causes Claire to change from hard-ass reporter intent on busting Joe to acting to squash the story.

Mentor – Kenny

Secretly a member of the B.I.A. (Belize Intelligence Agency), Kenny encourages then trains Joe to ‘become’ Colt Rodgers.

Trickster – Walt / Colt Rodgers

Walt publishes Joe’s book, but calls it a piece of non-fiction, setting into motion all the ‘negative’ events in Joe’s life. In assuming the persona of Colt, Joe receives benefits (hero worship), but also all the mistaken identity hassles.

10 Major Plot Points

ACT ONE

The Opening

Introduces the fictional hero Colt Rodgers and his creator Joe Schmidt, an aspiring writer whose fantasy world of bullets and bravery is a far cry from his real world, establishing that Joe and Colt are “polar opposites.”

The Hook

His book published, but fraudulently so as a “true” memoir, Walt (Joe’s publisher) convinces Joe to publicize the book as Joe Schmidt AKA Colt Rodgers.

The Lock

While on vacation, a local ‘bad guy’ (El Toro) coerces Joe to assassinate the Prime Minister, resulting in Joe being tracked by El Toro and his men, the CIA, and Claire, a reporter posing as a businesswoman on vacation, looking for an expose on Joe’s “fake memoir.”

ACT TWO

First Big Test

Jesus Sanchez vows to kill Joe / Wayne urges Joe to live “like Colt Rodgers.”

Transition

Joe beats up someone he thinks is out to kill him / wrong guy, but Joe is now acting like Colt Rodgers.

Second Big Test

Joe “kills” the Prime Minister.

All Is Lost

Jesus kidnaps Claire.

ACT THREE

On the Defensive

Kenny helps Joe train as a hit man, but Joe isn’t any good.

On the Offensive

Joe assaults Jesus Sanchez’s compound.

Final Struggle

Joe vs. Jesus (with a major assist from Kenny) – defeats Jesus and saves Claire.

Major Selling Points

Strong high concept: The central premise is easy to grasp and therefore market. Good basis for an action-comedy.

Castable lead role: The Protagonist role (Joe Schmidt / Colt Rodgers) could be filled by a number of male comedic actors, which gives a studio flexibility in terms of budget and schedule.

Action-comedy is hot: Four of 2009’s biggest hit movies are action-comedies (Up, Monsters Vs. Aliens, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, Paul Blart: Mall Cop).

Paul Blart: Mall Cop: The movie cost $26M. It grossed $180M worldwide. Starring Kevin James — who would be a great call for True Memoirs.

PG-rating: After excising various F-words from the script, the movie should be able to get a PG rating, assuring widest possible audience.

100 pages: Translates into about a 90 minute movie, which means it can get an additional screening per theater (6, not just 5 per day), thereby generating more B.O..

Wish fulfillment: Youth audience can live out fantasy of acting out like a spy / assassin.

In sum, The True Memoirs of an International Assassin has all the elements of a successful action-comedy movie with a moderate budget $30-40M and strong upside for significant B.O. and ancillary revenues.

Note: Be honest in the comments section. But please be respectful. Jeff was nice enough to grant us an interview and I’d like to have more writers come on Scriptshadow and share their experiences. It’s the only way for the rest of us to learn. Honesty, good. Cruelty, bad.

Genre: Romantic Comedy
Premise: A woman attempts to take advantage of a time-honored custom in Ireland that allows women to propose to men on Leap Year.
About: Matthew Goode (Watchmen) and Amy Adams (Doubt) are signed on to play the leads. The movie is being directed by Anand Tucker (Shopgirl). Kaplan and Elfont also wrote the little-known but underrated gem, “Can’t Hardly Wait.”
Writers: Deborah Kaplan & Harry Elfont

I love you Amy.

Yes, I like romantic comedies. Okay there, I said it. I’m not going to lie. The cat is out of the bag people so have your way with me. You know what I watched a month ago? A little movie called When Harry Met Sally. And afterwards? I may have shed a tear. That’s right. Um-hmm. I may have. And I’m not going to feel bad about that because the reality is, when done right, romantic comedies make you believe in love again. The problem is, when done wrong? They’re unmitigated disasters.

Leap Year caught my attention because it has two actors in it that I absolutely love. Amy Adams and Matthew Goode. If you don’t know much about Goode, head over to your local video store tonight and rent “The Lookout” (also starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt). Goode’s charasmatic yet deceitful character is the one that stands out in a film clearly designed to showcase Gordon-Levitt’s talents. But Amy Adams? Well besides the fact that I want to marry her, she’s memorable in just about everything she does. In Doubt, a movie with Meryl Freaking Streep and Phillip Seymour F’ing Hoffman, Adams, who plays the most reserved role of the three, holds her own in every single scene. And let me tell you honey. That ain’t easy to do.

Amy Adams in a romantic comedy felt like a good fit. But I’ll be honest, when I heard the premise for “Leap Year,” I cringed. It sounded like it came out of the Romantic Comedy Logline Machine – a lumbering MRI-type contraption that can be found in the back of most studio offices. But, you know, Can’t Hardly Wait was a damn funny movie, so I was willing to give Kaplan and Elfont a chance.

Anna, 30s, sweet but a little materialistic, stages apartments for a living. You know, one of those people that dresses up apartments so they look good for prospective buyers? She has the perfect boyfriend in cardiologist Steve (think Patrick Dempsey), who she’s been together with for four years now, and it’s looking like he’s finally going to propose to her on their anniversary. But when he gives her a bracelet instead of a ring (hey, they’re both round) and informs her he’s heading off to Ireland on a business trip , Anna is devastated, and begins to question whether Steve will ever become her knight in shining armor.

Later that night, Anna’s BFF sister jokingly tells her about an old Irish custom where every leap year day (February 29), women are allowed to propose to men. After laughing it off, Anna finds herself wikipediaing that shit and learnng that indeed, it is true (A little warning to all you men with girlfriends planning trips to Ireland). Anna, unable to avoid the tick-tock sound of her biological clock, throws caution into the Irish wind and decides to fly to Dublin to surprise her dear Steven with a marriage proposal!

As her 747 swoops in to Dublin however, wouldn’t you know it but a huge storm rolls in and forces them to land in another city. Egads! With Leap Year day only a few days away, Anna, stuck in the Irish countryside, must find a way to Dublin in time to propose to Steven! (If you are a man, I applaud you for making it this far in the review. However, I cannot guarantee your safety from this point on).

Anna stumbles into a small Irish pub and pleads her sob story to anyone who will listen. But of course everyone’s too drunk to care. Glaring at her from the shadows is Declan, the brooding yet unkempt innkeeper. Declan is so angry and bitter, you get the feeling he’s going to walk out of the script at any moment, shrugging his shoulders and mumbling, “Why did I agree to this?” Unfortunately (wouldn’t you know it!) Declan is the only one in the bar with a working car! When Anna offers him a boatload of money to take her to Dublin, even the defiant Declan can’t decline.

How do you say, “You complete me” in Irish?

The script jumps into Travelogue mode as we drive, jog, hitchhike, and train through some of the most beautiful countryside in the world. Of course Anna and Declan don’t enjoy a single moment of it because they absolutely despise each other.

For the first 60 pages, Leap Year was the most cliched, by-the-books, lazy, forced, unoriginal piece of crap I’ve read in awhile. The shameless female wish-fulfillment tale busts out all the romantic comedy stops. Do our characters hate each other more than anything? Check. Is one a rich American while the other a poor foreigner? Check. Are they placed in a situation where, even though they despise each other, they’re forced to kiss? Check. Are they forced to sleep in the same bed at one point? Check check and CHECK! I could almost feel Blake Snyder’s beat sheet breathing underneath this screenplay. At one point I wanted to murder Ireland.

And that premise. What the fuck is with that premise? Why would a woman travel to Ireland to propose to a man on Leap Year instead of, oh I don’t know, TALKING TO HIM ABOUT IT IN AMERICA! We don’t live in the stone age. If you’re unhappy about something in your relationship, particularly something as big as marriage, YOU TALK ABOUT IT.

But then…………something funny happened. Leap Year stopped trying so hard. It threw away the beat sheet and began allowing its characters to dictate the story. Gone were the cliche romantic comedy staples. Gone were the obvious set-pieces. All of a sudden, I felt like I was watching two living breathing human beings. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I was smiling for the last 50 pages of Leap Year. You know why? Because it was just two people who liked each other that knew there was no way they could ever be together. And who can’t identify with that? I identify with it every Saturday night (actually, I don’t even know what that means).

So to sum up, Leap Year was a little like a pint of Guiness. Bitter at first, but smoother as the night goes on (ugh, now I’m the one trying too hard). If you’re a romantic comedy fan, instead of watching Love, Actually for the 50th time, give Leap Year a read.

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

What I learned: The first act reeks of “trying too hard.” All of the romantic comedy staples are stuffed down our throat. Audiences aren’t dumb. They know when you’re forcing things. You have to make your screenplay structure as invisible as possible. Hit the beats, but do so in a way that doesn’t draw attention to itself.