Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: (Original Twit-Pitch Logline) When a U-Boat vanishes in the 1940s, it leads a team of American GIs to a terrifying secret trapped beneath the ice of Antarctica.
About: For those recently joining Scriptshadow, I held a contest a few months back called “Twit-Pitch,” where anyone could pitch me their screenplay on Twitter, as long as it was contained within a single tweet.  I picked my 100 favorite loglines and read the first 10 pages of each (which I live-reviewed on Twitter), and then from those, picked the Top 20, which I’ll read the entire screenplay for.  This is one of the finalists.
Writer: R. Burke Kearney
Details: 98 pages

Oh yeah baby. It’s Tundra time. Tundra is the first Twit-Pitch script I’m reviewing from my “definite” pile. Now as many of you know, when I reviewed the first ten pages of the Twit-Pitch finalists on Twitter, I had three piles. Pass (didn’t make it to the next round). Maybe (I would look at it again later). And Definite (automatically made it to the next round). There were only 7 definites. This was one of them.

Originally I said I was only going to save the best scripts for last but I really wanted to read something good so I moved Tundra to the front of the line. Please Tundra, don’t let me down.

We’re somewhere near Antarctica inside a German U-Boat.  The year is 1942, which means we’re smack dab in the middle of World War 2 when these pesky Germans and their Enigma machines were occupying every centimeter of every ocean and blowing up whatever ship they wanted.  If we didn’t figure out a way to crack this Enigma code (the way the Germans communicated with each other) soon, it was looking like there’d be a statue of Hitler outside New York instead of a Statue Of Liberty.

Unfortunately, the Germans in this U-boat won’t be around to see any statues because their ship is attacked by a mysterious entity, jostled around like a can of coke inside the hands of pissed off juggler, and they all die.  Cut to black.

Enter the Marines two weeks later.  They’ve been sent over from the good ole U.S. of A. to grab themselves a FREE Engima machine courtesy of the mysterious water creature that burped that submarine up to the Antarctic surface.  The centerpiece of this operation is a soldier named Sam Gavin, who’s just come back from a recent court martial which you can bet your ass he refuses to talk about.

When they get to the 10 million square foot skating rink, however, they find that things aren’t exactly as they expected (are they ever??).  Some guy named Tillman, who’s part of a separate operation out in the Antarctic, has lost his entire camp due to some mysterious attack.  Tillman’s here to guide them, I guess, first to his camp where the massacre occurred, and then to the U-Boat.

The marines aren’t too perked about this little side-mission, but they soon learn that the two incidents might be related.  Once at the camp, they find a bunch of footprints heading off to the submarine, which we see is sticking ass-up out of the ice about a mile down.

When they finally get to the U-boat, however, they’re attacked by a plane.  It’s the Germans, who’ve come to get that Enigma machine before the Americans do.  A few marines die but it turns out they’re the lucky ones.  You see, the Germans aren’t the only ones out there.  An unknown species that looks like a werewolf with a shark head has placed the marines squarely in their sites and plan on killing every one of them.

So to summarize we have marines, Nazis, and werewolf creatures.  We have a U-boat, an enigma machine, and also some glowing blue rod that I forgot to mention, that’s found inside the U-boat.  Not sure what that’s all about, but I think Tillman wants it.  In fact, Tillman wants more than that.  Guy wants to capture a few of these Hunter creatures and take them back to the U.S. to study.  And he’s willing to kill a marine or five to do it.  With all of this chaos, who’s going to come out alive?  And oh yeah, what the heck did Sam Gavin get court-martialed for?

Tundra started out great.  Of course it started out great.  That’s why I put it on my “definite” pile.  But I started getting a little nervous soon after.  Something about the dialogue felt off.  I don’t know many writers who can pull off this “tough guy” marine talk well and I’m not sure Kearney succeeds either.  I’ve said this before but it feels like a writer who’s watched a lot of movies with characters who talk like this as opposed to giving the marines their own distinct unique voices.

Too many writers make this mistake.  Yeah, you’re writing a fun sci-fi horror thriller.  But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dig into your characters’ backstories and find out what’s unique about them so that they can talk and act in a unique way.  If you don’t do that extra work, you’ll fall back on cliches and stereotypes, such as…you guessed it…previous movie characters you’ve watched.  Don’t think for a second that the reader doesn’t pick up on this.  We do.  And it’s a sad moment, because we know from that point on, the story’s going to lack an element of originality.

On the plus side, we jump into the story REALLY FAST.  I mean after we meet the marines it’s off to Antarctica and the mission begins.  However immediately after they get there, I started getting confused.  I couldn’t figure out who exactly Tillman was or what he had to do with anything.  He was the only survivor of this nearby camp?  Yet he didn’t know what attacked him?  Later, when we go to his camp to try and figure things out, they find footprints heading off to the submarine.  If Tillman survived this thing, how come he didn’t already know everyone else ran to the submarine?  Why is he finding this out for the first time with the marines?  There were little pieces of information here and there that were kept from us that we needed to know in order to understand Tillman’s situation.  So his whole storyline was a challenge to keep up with.

After the Germans show up, the story starts to lose form.  The goals aren’t as clear.  The marines split up into two groups.  Tillman starts going after the hunters, which is a clear goal, but I’m not sure what Gavin and Decker (another marine) were doing in the U-boat.

As I’ve always preached on the site, you want to give your characters a clear goal – something they’re after.  This it the MAIN thing you’ll need to do to keep the story focused.  If you decide to split your characters up into two (or even three) groups, then, you need to give BOTH GROUPS clear goals.  This is super-important because you’re now asking the audience to keep track of two separate story lines.  If one of those story lines is unclear, then you’ve failed as a writer because we can’t properly follow the story anymore.  I could never quite figure out what Gavin was doing in his half of the storyline and that did Tundra in for me.

Finally, I thought the end of the story could’ve used some original choices.  We find out there’s a ship under the snow.  It’s essentially an alien “Noah’s Ark,” with a bunch of alien animals being let loose.  I’ve seen lots of versions of this before.  I’ve even reviewed a spec detailing this exact same scenario.  So I was sort of let down as I wanted something new and different.  It’s a cool idea.  But you have to remember that you’re competing against millions of imaginations.  If you don’t dig deep enough, chances are you’re writing something that’s already been written.

On the technical front, the script was a quick read.  The writing was descriptive and succinct.  Formatting was excellent.  A couple of typos but nothing terrible.  If I were Burke, I would work harder on character backstory and really trying to come up with characters who are unique.  Don’t just base people off your favorite movie characters.  This would clear up some of the dialogue issues I had.  In addition to that, challenge yourself more with plot.  Dig a couple levels deeper so you erase any chance of writing something unoriginal.  Oh, and clarity!  Make sure the reader always knows what’s going on.

This is stronger than your average amateur effort for sure.  But it’s not quite up to pro level for the reasons I listed.  However, Burke has enough talent to take this feedback and kick ass on his next effort.

Script link: Tundra

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

What I Learned: Remember that movies primarily stimulate two senses – what you see and what you hear. Therefore, when you’re writing description, you want to focus on images and sounds. Read the first few pages of Tundra and you’ll see why I put it in the “definite” pile.  The “lazy groaning of steel under pressure.” Or “Icy winds batter white-tipped waves.” “A periscope breaks through.” It points towards the “misty mass of Antarctica.” You want to transport your reader into a world. Focusing on sounds and images is the best way to do that.

Instead of driving Scriptshadow readers mad who are repeatedly pushing their “refresh” buttons to no avail, I’ve decided to announce that today is probably going to be a Scriptshadow Sick Day.  Between trying to get ready for the LA move (the last two moving quotes I got were $4000???), the site, script consults, book stuff, site relaunch stuff – it all finally caught up with me.  I simply could not get out of bed this morning.  My body physically wouldn’t move.  Therefore, the script I was going to review today, I’m going to review it next Wednesday instead.

In the meantime, to tide you over, here are 10 of the most popular Scriptshadow articles to revisit.  Hopefully one of them jumpstarts that script you’ve been having trouble with. :)

10 Things You Can Learn From Aliens
10 Writing No-Nos You Can Learn From Crystal Skull
So You Wanna…
I Hate Dialogue
Scriptshadow Character Generator
GSU
How To Conquer Your Second Act
10 Things You Can Learn From Die Hard
10 Ways I Know I’m Reading An Amateur Script
Why Bad Scripts Sell

By the way, “Sick Day” sounds like it could be a cool movie idea.  Anyone want to fancy a logline in the comments section?  I went back to the old Disqus engine so those having trouble with Disqus this past week, your comments should post now.

Genre: Period/Historical

Premise: Only twice in history has a city in the continental United States been attacked by a foreign enemy.  September 11 was one.  This is the other.
About: As most of you know, today’s writer (actually co-writer), Chris Terrio, wrote my most recent Top 25 entry, The Ends Of The Earth.  Obviously, after reading that, I had to check if I had any other scripts of his.  I ended up finding Baltimore, which actually made the 2007 Black List.  I don’t know much about the co-writer, Jesse Lichtenstein, but I think he works primarily as an editor and production designer.
Writers: Chris Terrio and Jesse Lichtenstein
Details: 123 pages (June 07 revision)
This is why I don’t like reading historical scripts.  They make me feel stupid!  And guilty.  I didn’t know anything about the War of 1812.  I mean I’d heard of “The War of 1812” of course, but I always assumed it had to do with Indians or Mexico or something.  The Alamo maybe?  Or did we fight Canada?  Have we ever warred with Canada?
But at the same time it was kinda cool.  An entire American war I didn’t know about?  Neat.  I mean, not neat for the people who died in it of course.  But neat to read about.  But that is the question, isn’t it?  Was Baltimore worth reading about?  
Sam Smith is a Maryland Senator who’s known as the resident worrywart.  I guess during that time, the British would line ships up off the U.S. Coast to block goods from getting through.  Apparently, the U.S. was okay with this.  We sit in on a Cabinet meeting early in the script and everyone’s shrugging their shoulders going, “Oh, it’s just those wily Brits again.  They’ll get bored.”  
Well Sam thinks there’s something more to this ship-blocking scam.  He thinks the Brits are planning an attack – on HIS city, Baltimore.  Which there’s no way he’s going to let happen.  But everyone he tells just rolls their eyes.  The sky is always falling with Sam.  Pay him no mind.
So Sam goes home to do what all of us do when we’re pissed: complain to his wife.  And it’s here where we learn a little more about ole Sammy.  He lost a son to disease a few years back and his only other son is embarrassed to show his face around town because he’s seen as “that crazy senator’s son.”  
Except Sam’s not crazy.  The British do attack, but not where he thought they would.  Why conquer the stomach when you can go for the heart!?  Yup, the British march on Washington D.C.  This move is so unexpected that NOBODY is waiting for them.  Within minutes of entering the city, they’re burning it to ashes.  And there’s nobody to do anything about it.
In fact, the imbeciles in the Cabinet continue to shrug their shoulders and even consider surrendering!  Gosh, our early leaders suck.  But not Sam.  He knows that the British will eventually have to take Baltimore in order to win the key port which will allow the British to properly invade.  So in a series of clever moves, Sam anoints himself as Baltimore’s military commander, before rounding up an army to defend against the British attack.  
But it’s looking bad.  At the time, the British had the most sophisticated and technologically advanced military in history.  And they’d sent their their most badass unit.  Not only that, but Baltimore would be squeezed on two sides – one side by the soldiers and the other by the British ships off the coast.  And the Americans would have to do it with a bunch of farmers with pitchforks and squirrel-shooters.  Well, at least according to this screenplay that is.  :)
I don’t know what it was about this script but it just didn’t click with me.  I know I was really tired when I read it but that shouldn’t matter.  I’ve been on the verge of collapsing while opening a screenplay before it grabbed hold of me so fast I didn’t blink for two hours.  But yeah, these period pieces are tough to read when you’re tired.  No matter how you slice it, you do feel *a little* like you’re reading a history book.
With that said, there was some good stuff here.  I liked the way the writers established Sam as this “clown” from the Cabinet’s point-of-view.  Nobody’s paying him any attention, which gets us all stirred up.  This is our guy!  This is the person taking us through the story.  We don’t want to see him get ignored and laughed at.  So we’re pissed.  And that makes us want to stick around because we can’t wait to see when he’s right.  Never underestimate the power of an audience wanting to see the “I told you so” moment.
The structure was pretty good too.  For an American historical script, there’s little if any of those script-killing scenes with wigged bureaucrats monologuing about morals and liberty and freedom and politics (I’m looking squarely at you, Anthony Hopkins scene in Amistad).  This was all about the invasion, sort of like a Star Wars film via 19th Century America, if that’s possible.
In fact, as if to support this point, one of the stranger things about the script is that it has all these Star Wars lines in it.  For example, the evil British commander says to his frustrated American spies at one point, “Perhaps you think you’re being treated unfairly?” Which is a carbon copy line from The Empire Strikes Back that Darth Vader says to Lando.  There were like half-a-dozen of these.  I don’t know if they were on purpose or by accident but it was weird.
But yeah, the script was always moving.  At first Sam’s trying to convince the Cabinet to prepare a defense.  Then the British storm Washington.  Then Sam builds up an army and prepares for a defense. And then we have the actual battle.  So there’s very little down-time, which I found impressive in this kind of story.
And yet I still felt detached during it.  I rooted for Sam for the reasons I mentioned above, but we get this sort of half-thought-through storyline with him and his son that was sooooo generic.  “I don’t like daddy.  Daddy doesn’t like me.”  Blah blah blah.  Terrio’s obviously come a long way since then as the relationship between Ernest and Lydie in The Ends Of The Earth is one of the most complicated and intriguing I’ve ever read.
I think a lot of writers make this mistake actually.  They think that simply making two people not like each other constitutes a compelling relationship.  Not so.  You have to figure out WHY they don’t like each other and how that contentious relationship evolved and what kinds of events shaped it (there’s usually never just one) and see if you can find irony or uniqueness in that conflict.  I mean when Ernest falls in love with the one person in the world he can’t fall in love with – that’s a compelling relationship.  Having to make the decision to publicly marry her, with all the scorn that would bring – that’s a compelling situation.  “Daddy and I don’t get along” is too generic and therefore not compelling at all.  
So I’m torn here.  I mean yeah, there were little problems in Baltimore.  But overall, there’s more good than bad.  And yet, I just couldn’t get into it.  Therefore, the only thing I can do is give it a “wasn’t for me.”  
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me.
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: The “Bully Effect.”  We’ll always sympathize with a character who gets bullied.  So early on, Sam gets laughed at by the entire Cabinet for thinking the British will attack.  Not surprisingly, that’s the moment where we truly bond with him.  If you want the reader to like your character, showing him get bullied, laughed at, or pushed around, is a surprisingly easy way to do it.  

Genre: Sci-Fi

Premise: A unique meteorite crashes into earth, causing a slow and steady destabilization of the planet’s gravity.  
About: Today’s script was co-written by Ehren Kruger, one of the alpha dogs of the Hollywood screenwriting industry.  When you bring Kruger in to work on something, you’re usually paying upwards of a million bucks.  Kruger has written such movies as The Ring and a couple of the Transformers flicks.  He also wrote one of my Top 25 scripts, The Keep. Co-Writer Bradley Camp has worked mainly as a producer, collaborating closely with Andrew Niccol on his films S1mone and Lord Of War.  The Invertigo spec sold to Sony a couple of months ago.  
Writer: Ehren Kruger and Bradley Camp
Details: 129 pages (Nov. 1 2009 draft)
I don’t know if Roland Emmerich is directing this, but if not, he will be soon.  Mark my words.  Invertigo’s opening act reads like an Emmerich wet dream.  We have a meteorite splitting up in the atmosphere, pieces shooting off in all different direction. We see the fragments land in a bunch of different countries.  We have the dopey but good-natured scientist character baffled by the development and demanding to talk to somebody about it (but nobody will listen!).  
And then, of course, we have the anti-gravity.  Now here’s the thing – I’ve run up against this anti-gravity idea before in screenplays.  It’s one of those ideas where you can instantly see the movie.  I mean people floating around in New York City!?  That’s probably going to make a studio some money.  But basing an entire movie around that image?  Is that going to be enough?  I mean, how many times can you show things floating in the air before an audience goes, “Okay, what else ya got??”
Kruger and Camp believe they have the answer.  And you know what?  They just might.  These two come up with some pretty nifty ways to keep a one-trick-pony entertaining.  
So like I said, our main character is 40 year old scientist, Tom Riley.  Tom is an astro-somethingist whose specialty is tracking meteorites.  In fact, Tom’s been tracking one particular meteorite that’s been zipping through the universe for 11 billion years.  
Well, Tom yanks his daughters out of bed on the morning this meteorite is supposed to dissolve into the earth’s atmosphere, but is shocked when it actually splits up into five pieces!  That wasn’t part of the plan and leaves Tom baffled.  
These tiny baseball-sized fragments land all over the world (Japan, the Amazon, Central Park) and it would appear that – just like any other meteorite that’s landed on earth – that that would be all she wrote.  But apparently Mother Universe had another chapter in mind.  Soon after one of the fragments crashes into a Central Park lake, the surrounding area becomes…unstable.  First leaves start floating.  Then water goblets.  Then people!
The police freak out, contain the area, and the military are notified.  It becomes clear that they’ve never dealt with something like this before, so they contact the one man who seems to know something about this meteorite – Tom Riley.  
Tom informs them that not only is the anti-gravity bubble growing, but it’s feeding off the power in the city.  They need to SHUT THE CITY DOWN to stop this thing.  Well THAT suggestion doesn’t go over well.  The army would rather do things the American way – blow some shit up – which Tom points out again will only make it stronger (didn’t any of these guys see The Fifth Element???).  
In the meantime, the army locates renegade physicist Rodrigo Del Toro, who had to go on the run after building a mini hadron collider that nearly blew up MIT.  To their (and our) surprise, however, Rodrigo seems more interested in cracking end-of-the-world jokes than he does stopping shit from floating.
After bombing the meteorite does exactly what Tom said it would (make it worse), they realize that a last ditch effort is using Rodrigo’s mini-collider to go in there and zap Ground Zero into non-existence.  But it’s going to be tough.  Not only is the anti-gravity bubble spreading, but it’s intensifying as well.  If you’re out on the street, you’re getting zapped up into the sky.  As are cars and buildings and sidewalks and everything.  New York is literally being pulled into the sky.  Can our guys Collider-kill that motherf%cker before Earth itself becomes a victim of this gravity monster?  
I’d say just from a reading standpoint I was entertained by Invertigo.  The characters were all pretty stock, but the story itself was fun.  My biggest worry was that they wouldn’t be able to sustain the idea over a full movie, but there were some solid choices made to stave off that pitfall.
For example, I like how the gravity problem kept escalating.  It wasn’t just like everybody flew up into the air in Act 1 and we just kept repeating that image.  Every 15 pages or so, something happened to intensify the gravity, which created new unique challenges.  
So at first, it’s just a matter of holding onto things so you don’t float away.  But pretty soon, that won’t suffice  The pull is too strong.  So the group has to walk in the sewers upside-down (so they’re actually walking on the ceilings) in order to get to the center of the city to unleash the collider. 
There were also some cool set-pieces.  A favorite was having to walk across a New York City bridge that a floating Staten Island Ferry had plunged into, forcing them to actually traverse through the awkwardly positioned boat to get to the other side of the bridge.  There was a great scene of them getting stuck inside a subway with a never-ending field of rats.  There was also a great scene where a fighter jet had to navigate through a New York City skyline with people and cars and busses all around it.  
So I feel like Kruger and Camp really sat down and thought this premise through.  They clearly wanted to exploit the idea as much as possible.  Of course, there were some missteps. The script often felt like an episode of Sciency McScience.  There’s so much science talk here that at times I thought the target demographic of the film was electrons.  I’d say I understood about 1/3 of what everyone was talking about.
There’re also some lame characters.  Rodrigo, the MIT dude, is just…no.  He’s annoying.  Unlikable.  Sits around mumbling jokes all day.  But the most baffling thing about him is that the government sent one of their top units out to get him, and then when they brought him back, NOBODY ASKED HIM WHAT TO DO!  Rodrigo even says later, “Why hasn’t anybody asked me anything?”  And I knew why: writer convenience.  If someone would’ve asked, we would’ve had to move further into the story than the writer’s would’ve liked.  So they just, conveniently, made sure no one asked, even though it made no sense.
Then there was Annoying Firefighter Single Mom and her angry 17 year old son.  There’s some backstory about how his dad died a hero firefighter, but he still hates him because by being a hero to others, he left him without a father  But then, of course, in the end, the kid decides to risk his own life (and be a hero too!) to help Tom and Rodrigo reach Central Park.  
I don’t know.  Sometimes we can get so wrapped up in these character arcs that we can’t see the bullshit through the horns.  Yeah, the character arcs, but it’s so cheesy you’d have been better off not arcing him at all.  It’s a tough line to walk because you wanna try and develop characters in these big films.  But you can’t be too obvious about it or you’re going to find yourself in the middle of an Eye-Rolling parade.  
Anyway, this was pretty good.  The spectacle factor made up for a lot of the script’s shortcomings.  I could see this becoming a fun movie.
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned:  Most of the amateur Disaster Genre scripts I read have predictable set pieces that we’ve seen a million times before.  If you want your disaster script to stand out, you’re going to need three VERY UNIQUE set pieces.  Or else, why would someone want to spend 200 million dollars to make your film?  So they can give people exactly what they’ve seen before?  I don’t think 2012 was a good movie, but driving a car through a city where the world behind you is dissolving into nothing…I’d never seen that before.  So make sure the set-piece scenes in your disaster script (or ANY big budget script you’re writing) are unique.  If there’s any area where you can show off your creativity in screenwriting, this is it.   

NEW Amateur Friday Submission Process: To submit your script for an Amateur Review, send in a PDF of your script, a PDF of the first ten pages of your script, your title, genre, logline, and finally, why I should read your script. Use my submission address please: Carsonreeves3@gmail.com. Your script and “first ten” will be posted. If you’re nervous about the effect of a bad review, feel free to use an alias name and/or title. It’s a good idea to resubmit every couple of weeks so your submission stays near the top.
Genre: Sci-Fi/Period/Crime
Premise: A mafia hitman is hired by the government to hunt down a group of extraterrestrials on the New York City waterfront.
About: On Saturday I posted 20 logline submissions for the Scriptshadow community, allowing you, the readers, to determine who I would review for the next two Amateur Fridays.  Doxide emerged as one of the top contenders immediately, which is why I’m reviewing it today.    
Writer: Tim Miller
Details: 116 pages
I’m always looking for unique ideas.  When you’re in the reading business, almost everything you get is something you’ve seen before.  The idea behind Saturday’s post was to give you guys a behind-the-scenes look at that.  Most of the ideas I’m sent either sound derivative, boring, or both.  I’m not saying that Doxide is the chupacabra of movie ideas.  But you can see, with its unique mash-up of mafia and aliens, how it would stand out amongst a group of other loglines. 
This is the thing that so many writers seem to forget.  They believe that as long as they love their subject matter and their characters, that that’ll be enough to make someone want to read their script.  That’s simply not the case.  You need to figure out how to stand out at the idea stage so that when you pitch it, people will want to read the thing.
Okay, so on to Doxide.  Did it live up to its premise?  Well, that’s hard to say because its premise is so darn weird.  
The year is 1962 and 42 year old Carlo Fibonacci is a hit man who works for the highly regarded Carpaccio family.  In fact, Don Carpaccio just had Carlo take care of one of his enemies down by the docks.  Guy was a thorn in the Don’s side.  Now? Fuggetaboutit. 
But not for long.  Because some strange things are going on down on the waterfront.  Seems there’re some pesky new foreigners (Russians maybe) making a play for territory.  Oh, and motoring into the ocean in the middle of the night to pick up fallen meteorites.  Not the M.O. of your garden variety crime syndicate.  
But before this activity hits Don’s radar, he’s approached by a pair of FBI agents. They want to hire Carlo to take down these foreigners.  Oh, and shooting them in the heart isn’t good enough.  They want Carlo to decapitate their heads – Highlander-style.  Talk about odd requests.  But money’s money so Carlo takes the job.  And he soon learns why these foreigners are so valuable.  When you shoot them, the mother%uckers heal!  Yup.  Self-healing foreigners.  
After killing a couple of them, Carlo finally meets their leader, who explains what they’re doing here.  They’re aliens.  And they’ve come because humanity is on the verge of destroying itself.  They’re basically teachers, recruiting humans and teaching them how to settle disputes peacefully, so that they might go out and spread the message before, you know, a nuclear war breaks out or something.  
When Carlo realizes this, he has a change of heart and doesn’t want to decapitate anyone anymore.  He saw the horrors of war first hand, so getting rid of them sounds pretty groovy.  But The Dom doesn’t share Carlo’s Woodstockian enlightenment.  He realizes that aliens are worth monnn-ayyyy!  So he tricks Carlo into bringing one back and puts her on the open market.  The other aliens aren’t a fan of the e-bay listing and decide to fight back.  So…which side is Carlo going to play for? 
Man this is a tough one to break down.  My initial thoughts are that there’s a war going on in this screenplay, and not the one between the mafia and the aliens.  It’s one between these two subject matters.  I’m just not sure they ever meshed well together.  Miller plays the mafia side of the story so seriously, that the sci-fi side feels like a round peg trying to fit into a square hole.  
In order to fit in, then, the alien angle becomes so serious that it’s almost like they’re not even aliens.  They’re people.  They only have one power – and that’s to heal.  So these guys are essentially humans.  And maybe that was Miller’s intent.  The aliens are metaphors for…something.  I don’t know.  But their inclusion felt so workmanlike that I didn’t get that spark I felt from the logline.  Maybe I wanted them to be more fantastical.  Maybe I wanted their plan to be more interesting.  I’m not sure.  But for a premise this catchy, the story itself was pretty by-the-book.  
Structurally, there was one mistake that stood out – the stakes.  There were no personal stakes for Carlo to do the job.  He had nothing invested – nothing tied in – to taking these aliens down.  If he failed, his life would pretty much be the same.  So there was a detachment in his pursuit that kept me at arm’s length.
On a more basic screenwriting level, the naming here drove me crazy!  Two of the main characters are named “Castor” and “Carlo.”  This is screenwriting 101 here.  Those names are practically identical to each other so I was constantly having to go back and check who was who.  Also in the mix we have Clio and Calliope.  It’s a freaking “C” party, with “C” standing for “Confusing.”  And I don’t know if it’s just me, but do every one of these mafia scripts have to use the “Mafia Name Index” for their characters?  Frankie Jr, Giuseppe, Tony, Vito, Little Dom, Paulie.  Or maybe that’s just how it really is?  In real life that’s how they’re all named?  Still, it was annoying because it felt so unoriginal.
When it comes down to it, and I look at this screenplay beyond the analysis, it all feels too…serious.  It’s just so heavy.  It’s almost like the screenplay is someone’s ribcage and an elephant’s sitting on top of it. It can’t breathe.  And that’s not to say I wanted something goofy here, but it’s dangerous having a mono-drama script.  If there’s only one emotion the entire time (heaviness), it’s like riding a roller-coaster that only goes straight.  Where are the drops?  Where are the loops?  You need different emotions to keep an audience invested.  And I didn’t see any of that here.  
So sadly, I have to give today’s amateur script a “wasn’t for me.” :(
Script link: Doxide (p.s. If you want to get the Amateur Friday scripts early, e-mail me with subject line: “EARLY”)
[ ] what the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius

What I learned:  Whether you have a high concept idea or a low-concept idea, try to include the major conflict of your story in the logline.  I read so many loglines where no conflict is mentioned.  Which is boring.  For example, here’s the logline that got me excited to read Doxide:  “A mafia hitman is hired by the government to hunt down a group of extraterrestrials on the New York City waterfront.”  The key phrase here is “hunt down.”  There’s the conflict.  A lesser writer might’ve written a logline like this: “A mafia family becomes aware of a group of extraterrestrials on the New York City waterfront.”  You see how there’s no conflict mentioned, and how it’s therefore less interesting?