Can it be true? Has a new amateur screenplay sliced and diced its way to an elusive “impressive” ranking?

Genre: Drama/Horror
Premise: (from writer) A secluded boy’s way of life is threatened when he befriends Rose – the girl whom his parents have imprisoned in the family attic.
About: I’ve started to include 5 amateur scripts a week in my mailing list, telling readers to read as much as they can of whatever they wanted, and to give me their thoughts afterwards. “Rose In the Darkness” has gotten a nice reception, so I added it to the Friday slate.
Writer: Joe Marino
Details: 107 pages
Status: Available

Black Friday. What the hell does that mean anyway? I heard it means that it’s the day that all the stores in America “enter the black” because it’s the biggest shopping day of the year? That’s a fine explanation but do you think they could name it something a little more upbeat like… “Fun Friday” or “Fantastic Friday” or “Kip Kalamahama It’s Time To Shop!”

I bring this up not to contribute to the marketing of a day designed to strip you of your 2012 savings, but because today is a great day. It’s only the second day in Scriptshadow’s history that I’m giving an amateur script an IMPRESSIVE! “Say whaaaat?” That’s right. And you know the last time I gave an amateur script that prestigious rating. A little script called “The Disciple Program.” Now “Rose In the Darkness” doesn’t have that perfect combination of elements to make it an easy sell like Disciple (a strong male adult lead, a good hook, and the easy to market “Thriller” genre), but this is still a movie that could be made for a cheap price with an easy-to-market horror angle. It’s kind of like Scriptshadow-fave Sunflower, and almost as good.

“Rose In the Darkness” starts with a great opening scene. It’s Mississippi in the year 1994. A young boy, Micah (13), is having dinner with his parents, Lily and Judah. While the three casually pass the potatoes around and say grace, there is a horrifying screaming going on above them, in the attic. It’s relentless, loud, violent. And yet nobody acts surprised or concerned.

Finally, however, wanting to eat in peace, the mother casually walks upstairs, and after a moment, we hear something (someone?) being beaten badly. Then silence. The mother comes back down, a huge bloody handprint on her dress, and the family resumes their dinner.

Over the next few days, we learn a couple more things about this odd family. First of all, Micah has never gone anywhere. He’s lived his entire life on this property. In fact, there’s a line of chalk that extends around the edge of this rural farmhouse that he’s never walked beyond. Second, the grounds are littered with dug-up holes, holes where, presumably, bodies have been buried. It turns out that whoever’s in that attic hasn’t been the first.

Religion’s also a big deal in this household. According to his parents, his family is the last of the righteous, and everyone else out there are demons. It is their job, then, to take down the demons one by one. That’s why his parents go out and capture people, put them in the attic, torture, then kill them. It’s the “right” thing to do.

Now up until this point, Micah’s gone with the flow. If his parents said the sky was purple, he believed the sky was purple. But Micah’s growing up fast, and he’s starting to get curious. So, when his parents accidentally drop the attic key, he snatches it up and goes into the attic for the first time. It’s there where he meets Rose, a beautiful 14 year-old girl who looks like she’s been through hell. She’s locked up in a cage and she’s terrified.

But after talking with Micah for awhile, Rose starts to cheer up. Micah goes upstairs to read to her whenever his parents are away. They form a friendship, and it’s through this friendship that Micah starts to learn that the world his parents have told him about may not be the one that really exists. According to Rose, there are good people everywhere, and it is Micah’s parents, in fact, who are the evil ones.

This is a lot for Micah to digest, and he’s not sure who he believes. But when his parents start becoming suspicious about his newfound curiosity, and he overhears them saying that they’re going to kill Rose within the next few days, he’s going to have to make a decision soon, a decision that will drastically change the rest of his life.

We’ve heard it all before and yet I continue to read scripts that don’t apply it. Hook us with your opening scene! Give us something interesting/exciting/mysterious so that we’re lured in right away. This opening scene where a family is casually eating dinner while someone screams above them let me know right away that “Rose In the Darkness” was a contender. Especially because it’s a slow-build type of script and Marino didn’t start with a slow boring scene. See, that’s the mistake a lot of writers make when they attempt the slow-build. They make it slow and boring from the very first page, not giving up the good stuff until at least page 40. Unfortunately, by then, the reader has already given up.

With “Rose,” of course, we not only have this great opening scene to keep us reading, we have a mystery that’s been set up, one we have to keep reading to get an answer to (“Who’s up in the attic??”). I don’t see anybody opening this and not wanting to continue until they find the answer to that question.

But I liked how Marino didn’t stop there. He created an entire history for this household. We have the newly dug up holes in the backyard. We have the chalk outlined border circling the property, the one our main character refuses to go beyond.

And then Marino creates this really creepy mother and father. The way these two manipulate the bible’s teachings, doing so as a way to push their own hypocritical agenda is enough to get you revved up for hours. You’re thinking, “How could they be DOING that to this kid?” That’s when I know I’m reading something good. When I’m getting emotionally amped up about one of the characters, and not the writer.

Then the script has this nice little midpoint shift where we finally meet the girl in the attic, Rose, and the narrative shifts into a sort of “Let The Right One In” love story. I loved watching these two together and wondering if Micah was going to be able to save her. And of course, I loved the internal battle Micah had to go through himself. Who does he believe? His parents, who are the only people he’s known up until this point, or this girl who, up until a few days ago, was a stranger? I could actually feel that choice eating away at him. And it’s not easy to make an audience FEEL an internal battle going on inside a character. In fact, it’s damn hard!

And there were other moments that just screamed, “Good writer!” For instance, there’s a scene early on where Micah’s mother tells him a bedtime story about a princess. But as she tells it, we flash back and realize she’s really telling a story about her childhood. Not only was it a clever way to reveal backstory, but the story of abuse actually made you sympathize with her, which was essential for her character development later on.

But these stories only work if they have a good ending. You know? Because the whole point of a slow-build is that it’s all going to lead up to something big. If we’re going to allow you to take your time telling your story, it better have a damn good payoff. And “Rose In the Darkness” does! I won’t spoil it. You’ll have to read the script yourself. But, in short, it was cool!

If the script has one negative, it would be the dialogue. It didn’t quite work for me and I’m not sure why. It was a little too simplistic but, more importantly, the kids spoke like adults most of the time. Here’s an exchange between Micah and Rose near the middle of the script. Micah: “So that’s why you’re so resigned.” Rose: “We didn’t do anything to deserve what happened. But it didn’t matter. Not with them. And now not for me.” Does that sound like a 13 year old and a 14 year old talking? I guess Micah’s only ever been around adults. But Rose is a normal teenage girl. Why is she talking that way?

However, this weakness is only evident in spots. The scene construction was so strong (there was always tension or suspense) that the dialogue didn’t become much of a factor. That’s why I say, learn to construct scenes correctly. If you do, the reader’s more focused on what’s going on in the scene than they are the dialogue.

I really liked this script a lot. I’m in contact with Joe Marino as we speak. Check it out yourself and share your opinion in the comments section!

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

What I learned: I don’t know if there’s a specific lesson I learned, but my favorite part of the script was the late arrival of the police officer. 9 out of 10 writers would’ve stayed with Rose alone up in that attic. But adding a police officer to the mix gave the third act a fresh unexpected feel. I always love when an ending develops in an unexpected way, and you rarely see it, so kudos to Marino for coming up with that inspired late-story choice.

A thousand Twit-Pitches have been narrowed down to one winner.  Was your favorite chosen??

Months back, I decided to try an experiment (at the worst possible time, mind you – I was creating a new site and writing a book).  The experiment was to allow people to tweet me the loglines for their screenplays.  The catch was that they only had one tweet to do it in.  So they had to boil down an already boiled down logline to even LESS words.

I took the Top 75 of those loglines and I read the first 10 pages of each, tweeting live reviews on Twitter.  It was a pretty cool experiment.  I wanted writers to be able to get into the head of a reader AS HE WAS READING their script.  You could see exactly what they were thinking as they were thinking it.  And I didn’t hold back.  If something was dumb, I’d say it was dumb.

The top 20 of those first 10 pages moved on to the final round, where I read the entire script and reviewed each of them here on Scriptshadow.  So how did the experiment end?  What did I learn from all this?  Well, I’m not sure I learned anything definitively.  But I will say this.  The winner and runners-up of Twit-Pitch stood out for two different reasons.  The first because it took chances, pushed the envelope, and didn’t go where you expected it to.  The second and third because they had smart contained concepts and were well written.  None of these scripts were home runs.  They all had their problems.  But I do think there’s a good lesson here.  You CAN stand out by pushing the envelope or just with good old fashioned solid writing on a strong idea.

And with that, let’s get to the winners.  Here they are…

***FIRST PLACE***

Proving Ground by James Topham – (Original Twit-Pitch Logline) 9 strangers wake in a deserted Mexican town besieged by killing machines: they must discover why they’ve been brought there to survive.

**RUNNER-UP**

Fatties by Matthew Ballen – (Original Twit-Pitch Logline) When a lonely masochistic chubby chaser is abducted by two fat lesbian serial killers, it’s the best thing that ever happened to him.

*THIRD PLACE*

Guest by Matthew Cruz – (Original Twit-Pitch Logline) After checking into a hotel to escape her abusive husband, a woman realizes guests in the next room are holding a young girl hostage.

One of the coolest screenplay ideas I’ve seen all year. But does the execution match the concept?

Genre: Sci-fi
Premise: A former criminal is convicted of killing his ex-wife and young daughter, who’s gone missing. Looking at life in prison, he participates in a unique experimental program where he will scientifically “hibernate” during the entirety of his sentence.
About: This script was picked up for Fast Five director (and future Terminator 5 director?) Justin Lin to direct. The script has been getting a lot of buzz lately. Let’s find out why.
Writers: Geneva Robertson-Dworet & Will Frank (story by Dave Hill and Geneva Robertson-Dworet & Will Frank)
Details: 112 pages – undated

I’d been hearing about this one for a couple of weeks now. Dozens of people have read it and almost all of them have e-mailed me with the same reaction: “Wow.” It’s not often that I see universal support for a script. There’s something about the art of storytelling that divides people. Some people want their stories to be direct and over-the-top. Others want them to be reserved and subtle. That’s why you get so many divided reactions and why Hollywood has such a hard time figuring out that elusive formula for box office success. How do you appease two polar opposite audiences? Isn’t that the definition of impossible?

But as I opened up “Hibernation” and read its first line: “Anna Bagnehold was skiing the first time she died,” I got goosebumps. Talk about roping the reader in immediately. Writers spend years trying to come up with a line like that – something that instantly gives you 20 pages with a reader. And then, once you get to the first act turn of Hibernation, it gets even better. This is a REALLY clever idea – one of those ideas that makes you groan and go, “Oh maaaan. Why couldn’t I think of that???” And I bet you’re all wondering what this idea is exactly. Well, may I tempt you with a story that pulls its inspiration from Scriptshadow favorites The Disciple Program and Source Code? Yeah, I have your attention now don’t I?

34 year old Sean Quinn is a big guy, the type of dude you’d see working on the docks, lifting heavy boxes. He used to be an enforcer for some not-so-nice criminal types, but has since left that life so he can be closer to his daughter, 5 year old Chloe. It’s not an ideal circumstance. His choices have put him and his ex at odds. But at least he gets to see his little girl every once in awhile.

If only Andrew Moran would see it that way. Moran is Quinn’s thuggish former employer. And as these thuggish boss-types usually go, he’s not a fan of Quinn quitting on him. And he lets him know it. But Quinn reiterates that he’s left that world behind. Sorry dude. Gonna have to find yourself a new rat.

Turns out that wasn’t the best idea by our guy Quinn. Because that night, after a couple of drinks, he passes out. And when he wakes up? His wife has been killed and his daughter, Chloe? She’s nowhere to be found. Before Quinn can even figure out what’s going on, the cops show up. And it isn’t difficult to see how this is going to shake down. All the evidence points to him as the killer.

So off to a lifetime jail sentence Quinn goes. Which would normally suck but there’s a new program the prison is trying out and it’s looking for volunteers. In order to lower the cost of upkeep, prisoners can choose to enter the “Hibernation Program,” which allows them to go into a state of stasis, sort of a cryogenic freeze, for their term. Go to sleep, wake up in 50 years. You’re still young when you’re released. Not a bad deal.

As a perk, they take you out of hibernation every five years, give you six hours of parole to reboot yourself, and back to sleep you go. With the alternative being growing old and dying in prison, Quinn decides to take a chance. So asleep he goes. For five years.

After waking up, he’s given his first six hours of parole. And you know what Quinn is doing with that six hours. He’s looking for information on what happened to his daughter. So he snoops around, asks a few people what they know, with most of the focus centering on his former employer, Moran. Did he kill his ex-wife and daughter because he wouldn’t work for him?

But just as he’s starting to make progress, his time is up and he’s forced to come back to prison, where he’s put back in hibernation. And five more years pass. And he wakes up. And he’s let out. With six more hours to look for clues about what happened to Chloe. Except now it’s five MORE years in the future. And he’s less familiar with the world. And the evidence is getting older. And when those six hours are up, he goes back to the prison, is put back to sleep, and five MORE years go by. And the world is even more different. He’s even LESS familiar with it. And the evidence is five years older. And so on and so forth.

I mean, just stop and think about that for a second. “The Fugitive” except that with every fifteen minutes of screen time, the world reboots into something more futuristic and less familiar to our hero. How freaking awesome of an idea is that??? It ain’t going to be cheap to make. But unlike a lot of flashy ideas out there, the production of this one would actually warrant the cost. It’s that good.

Now, I’m not going all in here YET because, at least with this draft, things are still messy. This is the kind of idea that you have to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite. When you have something this good, you don’t want a single messy plot point, a single bad choice. Reading the opening of Hibernation, before I knew the hook, I was getting a little impatient. The dialogue in particular was really…plain, and a little bit clunky. When characters speak to each other, I never want to think about the writer. I don’t want to think, “Ooh, they tried too hard on that line.” It has to be seamless. And the dialogue here wasn’t seamless.

I wasn’t a huge fan of some of the secondary characters either. I thought Sorenson (the main doctor) was strong. I thought Lara, the love interest, worked. But Andrew Moran, the bad guy, wasn’t bad enough. The bad guy’s gotta be memorable in your movie and this guy just felt thin. Austin, the brother of the bad guy, was a little more memorable, but felt like the kind of guy you’d be afraid of at the schoolyard, not as a criminal. Then Raj, the cab driver, well, I mean you got a guy named “Raj” who is a cab driver. So you can see why that choice isn’t very inspired.

And while I liked some of the futuristic stuff, I think it could’ve been pushed further. A lot further. That’s the big draw here – how this mission extends across many time periods, with each time period getting more and more futuristic. That’s cool! I mean I can see the trailer already, cutting between these time periods. But as you cut, each time period needs to be noticeably different, noticeably more advanced. And I wished we would’ve seen more advancement, especially in the last time period, where the futuristic aspect is barely even breached.

My final issue is one I just can’t ignore. Six hours? Huh? Why would this program give someone six hours of parole every five years? It’s so little time as to seem insignificant. And with Quinn being such a high commodity asset, I’m having a hard time believing they’d just let him walk around willy-nilly. The explanation for this could’ve been much cleaner. As of now, it sticks out like a candy cane at a Thanksgiving dinner.

I’m assuming that many of these problems are due to the script still being in its early stages, but the pillars to build the empire are there. Also working in “Hibernation’s” favor is its ending. Whenever you have these time-bending narratives, you gotta have a stellar ending. There’s nothing worse than going through 2 hours of a really cool time-travel script only to have some pedestrian climax. I won’t spoil it here but Hibernation definitely delivers on that front. There were a couple of quick “But wait a minutes,” but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

Hibernation is the kind of script that stands out in the spec world. It’s got a catchy hook and an exciting fast-paced narrative. More writers need to be studying scripts like this as a way to break into the industry. I wasn’t thrilled with the execution in places, which I’d probably rate as “worth the read,” but since this is one of the best spec ideas I’ve run across in awhile, I’m bumping it up to “double worth the read” status.

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

What I learned: I’m always wary of forced ticking time bombs. They pop out at you like flaming roman numerals. A man gets six hours of parole every five years when he’s woken up from hibernation? Why six hours? Why every five years? What’s the point of it? I mean, yeah, this works great as a ticking time bomb. Only having six hours to do something as complicated as catch your daughter’s killer is intense. But it’s GOTTA make sense. So add your ticking time bombs, yes. But build them into the story in an organic way so we’re not questioning them.

Got thoughts on the new site? Leave them here!

This is a post where you guys can leave feedback on the new site.  What’s working?  What’s not working?  The good, the bad, the ugly.  If you see someone leave a comment about something you agree with (i.e. “This site needs more bacon!”) please “like” it in Disqus so I can determine just how big of a problem it is.  I know Mobile is not so friendly?  Some people have complained about the size of the text?

Hello everybody.  Like a lot of you preparing for Thanksgiving, today is a travel day for me.  I’m heading back to Chicago.  Do not fear, however.  One of Scriptshadow’s new consultants, Alexander, will be taking over review duties.  I’d link you to his bio so you could learn more about him but I’m still at a point where WordPress won’t allow me to link anything! Very frustrating.  But anyway, just click “Script Notes” up above and look for “Alexander.”  — I want to apologize about comments disappearing or taking a long time to show up.  Still sorting that out.  Also, when I get to Chicago tonight, I’ll put up a post where you guys can give me your feedback and note any issues you’ve had with the site.  I know “mobile” is a big one.  I’m going to try and get to everything as soon as I can.  In the meantime, enjoy Alexander’s review.  I thought it was great!  

Genre: Period Drama
Premise: Based on the true story of a New York City architect involved in the race to build the world’s tallest building in the year 1930.
About: Writer’s most recent spec, POMPEII, was taken into studios this summer by big time producers but he’s still looking for his first sale as far as I know.
Writer: Eric Kirsten
Details: 115 pages

The spec market is tough. Looking to sell a period spec? Strike one. Looking to sell a period spec that’s a small historical drama/biopic? You’re probably staring down at least two strikes unless your subject is iconic or eccentric enough to attract a big piece of talent.

THE LIGHTHOUSE doesn’t quite fall into either of those categories, but Kirsten manages to take a pretty straight-forward story that doesn’t sound all that sexy and crafts an engaging and entertaining script. That’s only done with good writing. And having a good writing sample is often better in the long run than managing to somehow sell a commercial idea that’s a bad piece of writing.

We open on two workers sitting on top of the metal frame of an in-construction skyscraper in the middle of New York City. It’s 1930, and these guys are wrapping up an 11-hour shift….which was preceded by a 12-hour shift. Needless to say, they’re having a hard time concentrating. As a crane sends a huge metal beam their way, Worker #1 starts to clip his buddy onto the support frame – except with all the Sandman’s dust in his eyes he doesn’t do it right and the hook comes loose, causing Worker #2 to lose his balance and plummet hundreds of feet to his death as his bloodshot friend can only watch and wake up real fast.

Good idea to grab our attention with an unexpected death scene instead of opening up on a guy using a protractor or something. If it worked for CLIFFHANGER… And we learned an important lesson: Building a skyscraper was dangerous shit back in those days.

Flashback seven years to Paris, where recent architecture grad Will Van Alen and his socialite best friend Harry Tanning decide to partner up and start a design firm of their own back in the States. With Will’s design talent and Harry’s contacts, they’re confident they’ll make a name for themselves. And when businessman Alan Reynolds approaches Will in an attempt to hire him to be part of a team designing a swanky new hotel in NYC, Will successfully uses his confidence and determination to convince Alan to give Will and Harry’s new firm the gig.

Unfortunately, with success comes responsibility and Harry’s just not pulling his weight bringing in new clients, so Will gives in to pressure from Alan to hire the slick, ego-driven Craig Severence as his new business partner, relegating Harry to mere “employee” status. Needless to say, Harry is pissed and his friendship with Will is deeply fractured.

Flash forward six years later: Will and Harry are still estranged, though Harry is now a model employee. Will meets spunky photographer Meg Bagley and they hit it off. Plus, Alan loves the new, innovative design that Will secretly sent him and greenlights construction! Will is thrilled. Craig, however, is less than pleased, making it known to Will that he is never to present a set of designs without consulting him first. It’s the first time that Will’s seen this darker side of Craig and it’s unsettling.

Meanwhile, Will makes a trip to see his older brother, Terry, who’s rotting away in Sing Sing for an unknown crime but one that Will implies helped him survive their tough childhood. Clearly wanting to make Terry proud, Will excitedly tells Terry about the imminent construction of his building and vows to find a way to get Terry out of prison.

But just as construction is about to start on Will’s awesome hotel design, Will gets called to see Alan. Seems the stock market crashed and Alan’s fortune disappeared along with it, which means Will’s building is dead and so is his company. As Craig and Will say their acrimonious goodbyes, Craig breaks the news that Alan has killed himself. The beginning of The Great Depression, both literally and figuratively for Will.

Everyone goes their separate ways and soon, Will finds himself standing in a food line, unable to find a job. Luckily, Harry shows up and wants to get their two-man band back together, tipping him off that Alan sold his land to William Chrysler (the car guy), who’s looking to build his new headquarters. So Will applies…and is promptly sent a standard rejection letter.

After a nice bender to try and drink his misery away, Meg and Terry convince Will to try and get his designs directly to Chrylser himself. Will manages to sneak his plans into Chrysler’s office but isn’t hopeful about his prospects until Chrysler makes a surprise appearance at Will’s modest apartment and requests to pay a visit to his company the next day…the company that doesn’t exist anymore. So Will rounds up a bunch of unemployed construction workers and breaks into his old office, succeeding in convincing Chrysler that he runs a reputable firm and getting the greenlight to start construction on what will be the world’s tallest building.

Except that at the groundbreaking, the press informs Will that his old partner/new nemesis Craig is working on an even taller skyscraper for the Bank of Manhattan. Chrysler tells Will that if he beats Craig, he’ll use his connections to get Terry out of prison. Will assures Chrysler that he has a plan…which he doesn’t. The race is on!

Which brings us back to the sleepy head at the start and his dead friend, who, it turns out, dies as a consequence of this race, having worked those multiple double shifts so that Craig’s building could come out on top. Wanting to make sure no one else dies because of their egotistical battle, Will agrees to not add anymore floors to his building plan, assuring that Craig will have the tallest building in the world, which Craig soon unveils to great fanfare.

So how does Will keep his word to Craig while simultaneously keeping his promise to Chrysler? In a dramatic unveiling of Will’s building, which Craig attends, a crane pulls out a HUGE GLEAMING SPIRE from the base of the building, placing it on the very top, making it taller than Craig’s and the tallest in the world. Our guys win!

Sadly, this being the real world, and the business world at that, we get a dose of “not so fast” when Chrysler reneges on his deal to help Terry get out of prison and it’s announced that the Chrysler Building will only remain the tallest for a few more months…until a little thing known as the Empire State Building is completed.

Historical/biopic scripts can often be generic and/or boring, following the same, simplistic dramatic clichés (“I’m gonna be somebody!”) or bogging themselves down by relying on a dense rundown of “the facts” to tell a story without giving much thought to the characters, dialogue and actual storytelling. And I guess that’s why THE LIGHTHOUSE kept me engaged throughout – because Kirsten focuses on, and does a good job with, crafting believable and well-written characters that we care about in a world that felt authentic.

Rather than focus on the big names behind the race to build the world’s tallest building, or the race itself on a superficial level, Kirsten finds a more personal way to tell the story by introducing us to Will Van Alen, a man with very relatable hopes, dreams, relationships, failures and triumphs. We come to know Will so well through the first two-thirds of the script that by the time the “race” enters the equation, we’re invested in Will’s goals and thereby invested in the skyscraper race – not the other way around – which wouldn’t have worked. If Chrysler himself had been made our protagonist, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have cared whether or not a rich guy managed to satisfy his ego and gain a little more notoriety. In fact, I probably would’ve rooted against him. Similarly, a multi-character take on the race would’ve likely come across as impersonal and cold. But in this version, we’re rooting for the likeable Will – not to win anything per se, but to realize his dream of building a towering monument and to get Terry out of prison. Okay, maybe we want him to smack Craig a little in the process, which doesn’t hurt. In the script, Kirsten reveals that Chrysler and the Bank of Manhattan honcho hated each other and desperately wanted to top the other and, sure, Kirsten could’ve told the story through this specific rivalry, but focusing on the rivalry between Will and his former partner Craig offers the same relationship dynamic albeit with characters and situations we could probably all relate to in some way, shape or form.

I will say that I wish Will wasn’t portrayed as such a good guy throughout the whole script (his dis of Harry notwithstanding). I think it would’ve made him a more interesting, complex character if we would’ve seen his darker side at some point. He admits to Meg that all architects are driven by ego, but he willing offers up that insight, and in a cheerful way. I would’ve rather seen Meg drag an angry confession out of him, her concern for Will’s obsession the ultimate reason why he calls the race off. What can I say? I wouldn’t have minded some shades of a version that could’ve been called THERE WILL BE BUILDING.

All in all, one of the more enjoyable historical biopics I’ve read in recent years.

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

What I learned: Often when people write historical scripts, it’s difficult for them to resist the urge to focus on the “big” elements in the tale, rather than find ways to create a more character-driven entrance into a particular story. The former version can end up reading like the kind of generic “highlights” biography I’d find in the Kids section of the book store, or, conversely, like I’m reading an encyclopedia. It’s generally more interesting to read a script that’s a personal story touched by an historical event rather than the other way around.