Genre: Biopic
Premise: While growing up, a young boy gradually learns that his father, who’s his hero, is the world’s biggest deadbeat.
About: Adapted by A-List screenwriter Steve Zaillian (Schindler’s List, Gangs of New York, Moneyball, Girl With The Dragon Tattoo) back in 2000, from the memoir, “Duke Of Deception: Memories Of My Father,” by Geoffrey Wolff.  The movie never got off the ground, probably for story issues I get into here in the review.
Writer: Steve Zaillian based on the novel by Geoffrey Wolff
Details: 133 pages

This has to be one of the stranger screenplays I’ve read in awhile.  First off, there’s no real story to speak of.  It’s just watching a kid grow up with this weirdo deadbeat of a dad.  Despite that, either because Zaillian is such a good writer or because of the perverse need to see how bad this dad gets, I kept pushing through.  And because I wanted to keep reading, I wondered if I should give this a “worth the read.”  But a lot of what we read here is so disturbing, and we hate this father so much, that we’re kind of thrilled when it’s over.  Yeah, I wanted to know what happened.  But thank the heavens above that I never have to revisit this story again (except through this review – darn it!).

So what’s Duke of Deception about?  Well, it’s about a guy named Duke who’s, um, deceitful.  The bulk of the movie takes place in the 60s (I think – there was a hell of a lot of jumping around in time – if only 2000 Zallian had been able to read my Clarity article!), where, I guess, people just trusted each other more.  You could walk into a big department store, open up a line of credit, buy $3000 worth of merchandise, then tell them you were going to pay later.  And they’d allow it!

So Duke took advantage of this.  Oh boy did he take advantage of it.  See, here’s the thing about Duke. He’s never had a job.  In fact, he’s never accomplished anything in his life.  He’s created this whole pretend life where he went to Princeton and fought in the war, but it’s all a lie, just like everything about him.

But anyway, Duke uses this “credit” ruse to buy anything he wants and NEVER pays.  And I mean NEVER.  He never pays a single bill in his life.  If the bills start becoming too much, he moves to another store/vendor, or just moves the family out of town.

Oh yeah, the family.  We’re actually telling this story through Duke’s son Geoffrey’s eyes.  Geoffrey, unfortunately, is brought up by this lying bastard, and, as a result, becomes his biggest victim.  That’s not to say Duke doesn’t love his son.  Actually, Duke loves Geoffrey more than anything in the world.  But Duke makes Geoffrey think he’s this amazing special person who can buy 50,000 dollar cars at the drop of a hat, when all he really is, is a giant deadbeat con man who’s stolen money from every person he’s ever met.

So while Duke spends his life running from the men he owes money to, he puts on a show for Geoffrey that they’re all wrong and he’s the one who’s right.  Therefore, while everyone else catches up with Duke’s con, Geoffrey obliviously goes through life believing his dad is perfect.

Duke’s constant need for things gets so bad, in fact, that after his first wife leaves him because of the tremendous amount of debt he’s put them in, he marries a woman just to pillage her bank account, which will allow him to keep buying things.  As Geoffrey grows up, he keeps seeing fights between his father and his wives, but always assumes its the wives’ fault.  His father is perfect.  He could never do anything wrong.

It isn’t until all his women leave him and Duke moves in with Geoffrey as an adult that Geoffrey finally gets a first-hand look at what his father’s been doing.  Duke starts taking money from his own son and not paying it back, simply because there’s no one else to take money from.  Duke even goes to jail for all the creditors he owes, allows Geoffrey to bail him out, then never shows up for court, forcing Geoffrey to eat thousands of dollars in bail fees.

It finally becomes clear to Geoffrey that his father is one giant fraud.  A loser.  A deadbeat of the highest order.  The question is, what does he do about it?  Does he keep enabling his addiction?  Or does he finally grow up, accept his father for who he is, and leave him?

Yeah, so like I said, this is one odd screenplay.  I mean the first thing that comes to mind when finishing it is: How could anyone consider this a movie?  Because it’s not.  It’s just a man being a total fraud douchebag for two hours.  I mean, it’s fascinating in a way.  To see how in denial he is.  But there’s no story here.  There’s no plot driving a story.  There are no goals – no purpose.  It’s just, Duke fucks over one person after another.

That’s the script’s biggest fault – its repetition.  It never really evolves into anything more than where it began.  Okay, he gets things and doesn’t pay for him.  And then he gets more things and doesn’t pay for them. And then gets MORE things and doesn’t pay for them.  At what point does it become, “Okay, that’s enough things he gets that he didn’t pay for??!”

Having said that, the script has a couple of strengths.  Zaillian is a master at popping in the occasional great scene.  There’s a great sequence, for example, where Geoffrey falls in love with the trash man’s daughter.  So he goes to his father and asks, “Could you make sure you pay the trash man?  Because I like his daughter.”  Duke assures him that he will, and yet a few days later, the trash man comes by and dumps every bit of trash from Duke’s house back onto his lawn for not paying.  The daughter stands there proudly, and tosses a gift that Geoffrey gave her onto the lawn as well, as if to put an exclamation point on how worthless she sees Geoffrey and his father to be.

The script also has a really intriguing final act, when Geoffrey comes face to face with his father’s lie.  When his dad starts taking advantage of his own son, Geoffrey’s forced to take the blinders off, and it’s not pretty what he sees.  Because it’s not just that his dad’s taking advantage of him in this moment, it’s that he now knows this is how his dad has always been. That there’s never been a single authentic thing about him.  Imagine that for a second.  You’ve always looked up to someone as your hero.  Then you learn that everything about them is a fraud.  I had this same experience when I found out the truth about Milli Vanilli.

So in the end, I don’t know what to make of this odd script.  It almost feels like a backstory for a story to come later.  I could say this is “worth the read,” because there are parts of it that are entertaining in their own odd way, but I’d be betraying the need for…I don’t know, class in a script, which the character of Duke makes sure there is none of.

I feel so dirty after this one.  I think I need to take a shower.

What I learned: You need MOVIE MOMENTS in your script.  Zallian is great at this!  He makes sure there are 5 or 6 scenes in every script that are genuine bona fide moments that EXPLODE off the page.  Besides the trash scene I mention above, there’s also a scene, when Geoffrey is told to stay home for that day’s game by his baseball coach, where Duke angrily speeds into the middle of the game, demands that the current batter take a hike, and insists that the coach put Geoffrey in RIGHT NOW!  The whole game awkwardly stops as an unwitting Geoffrey is forced to bat.  It’s just a tense fun scene, and it reminded me that sometimes you have to step back from the macro and make sure your script has a group of memorable highly entertaining scenes as well.

Genre: Sci-Fi/Drama
Premise: A terminally ill data cruncher is tasked with crunching the company’s most unsolvable job, the mysterious Zero Theorem.
About: If there’s ever been such a thing as a dream geek pairing, Terry Gilliam (12 Monkeys) and Christoph Waltz (Inglorious Bastards) would be somewhere in the top 10 (okay, let’s face it, Terry Gilliam and any actor would be in the top 10).  Right now, The Zero Theorem is in pre-production.  Gilliam has been trying to get this movie going for awhile, with Billy Bob Thorton attached at one point.  This will be writer Pat Rushin’s first produced credit.  He was an English professor at the University Of Central Florida and has had his work published in a number of magazines and newspapers.
Writer: Pat Rushin
Details: 95 pages

The more I read, the clearer this whole “voice” thing becomes to me.  Let me explain.  Almost all the scripts I read follow the same exact pattern, make the same exact choices, have the same exact sense of humor, have surprisingly similar dialogue.  There’s nothing in the script that stands out as unique.  And when there isn’t a single unique thing about your script, how do you expect it to stand out?  Why would you expect anyone to remember your screenplay an hour after they’ve finished it?

This is why “voice” is so important.  If you can do anything differently – if you have a part of your writing that only YOU can add – people are going to remember you.

That’s the feeling I got right away when reading The Zero Theorem.  It was unlike any script I’ve read in awhile.  It’s sort of 13 Monkeys by way of Midnight Cowboy with a splash of Eternal Sunshine with a sprinkle of The Matrix? Original enough for you?  We’re introduced to a strange man named Qohen Leth, a 40-something gaunt hairless fellow, presumably in the near future, working for an obscure data-crunching company.

Qohen is one weird dude.  He’s tired, distant, and hates to be touched.  He also thinks he’s dying.  And the only thing he cares about is a big call he assumes he’ll be getting soon which will tell him what he needs to do with his life.  See that’s the thing.  Above and beyond everything, Qohen feels like he doesn’t have a purpose.  And that whoever’s calling him will finally give him that purpose.

So Qohen applies for a medical exception which will allow him to work from home so he can be around at all times just in case that call comes.  He gets the exception, but on one condition – that he tackle the biggest number-crunching job the company’s ever had – The Zero Theorem.  Nobody’s been able to figure out The Zero Theorem.  No matter how many times they’ve tried to crunch the numbers, they won’t stay crunched.  Qohen is their last shot.

The kicker?  If he solves Zero Theorem, management will make sure Qohen gets his phone call.  That’s one of the weird things about this script.  We’re existing in this slightly “off” universe where the boss at a company can make sure a Fate phone call can get to one of his workers.  I’m not sure how Rushin pulled this off, but it somehow makes sense.

Anyway, Qohen soon finds The Zero Theorem to be as impossible as it’s hyped to be.  The numbers just don’t work.  When he complains to management, “Management” sends his 15 year old boy genius son, Bob, to help him.  Bob is as eccentric as Qohen is bizarre.  For example, he calls everyone else “Bob” so he doesn’t have to waste brain space on remembering new names.

Qohen and Bob develop a unique friendship and together find out what The Zero Theorem reveals – the meaning of life!  Yeah, that’s a pretty big deal – and it’s something Qohen in particular wants to find out, especially because he’s been stuck in this paralyzed state ever since his wife and son died in a fire.  He craves meaning.  He needs a reason to go on.  So Qohen and Bob give the theorem everything they’ve got.  Will they solve it, especially once they learn management is working against them??

A main character who refers to himself as “We.”  A 15 year old boy on life-support who refers to everyone by his own name, Bob.  A buxom blonde infatuated with virtual reality.  A manager who never shows his face in public.  Heck, this script had me when it introduced a rapping virtual psychiatrist on CD-ROM.  There was nothing about this script that was ordinary.  I had NO idea where it was going.

A lot of times, that can end up in disaster.  If you get too random, your story falls off the rails.  But this script managed to stay random yet still incorporate a clear story with a clear goal (Figure out Zero Theorem so Qohen can get his phone call).  Cool!

I think that’s what really stuck out to me here – that the script managed to feel so different yet incorporate a lot of the most basic storytelling tools.  Take, for example, the creation of a sympathetic character.  Qohen is lonely.  He’s an outsider.  He doesn’t relate to anyone.  Characters like these are really easy for an audience to sympathize with.  People naturally root for lonely people, people who are misunderstood.  From Edward Scissorhands to Elliot in E.T.

On top of that, Qohen lost his family in a tragic fire.  It’s something that’s completely destroyed him emotionally.  Again, people will ALWAYS root for characters who have experienced personal loss.  So we’re rooting for this guy HARDCORE from the get-go.

And I just liked the contrast and conflict within the script.  I loved how Qohen was just about the most anti-social creature in the universe, and we pair him up with a love interest who’s the most outgoing person in the universe, the buxom force of nature, Bainsley.  It’s decisions like these (a pairing similar to Eternal Sunshine) that ensure tons of conflict between the characters, which results in the dialogue writing itself (whenever someone says, “The dialogue practically writes itself,” that usually happens because the conflict in the scene makes the dialogue really fun/easy to write).

Now the ending of the script starts to get a little wacky and hard to follow, not unlike Friday’s amateur effort, where there were simply too many variables to keep track of.  So if the story has a weakness, that’s probably it.  I’ve found that whenever you promise an answer akin to the meaning of life in your script, you’re usually not going to deliver, so it was a dangerous route for Rushin to take in the first place.  But outside of that ending (which was still pretty solid), this weird little story had me digitally dancing through the pages.

What I learned: If you do not have a distinct voice – and not every writer does – the only thing you have is your ability to tell a great story.  I look at a movie like Contact as a good example.  I don’t sense an original voice when I read that script, but the story is extremely well told.  That said, you should always be looking to see what makes you original as a writer and try and highlight that in your writing.  If you don’t have anything unique about yourself that stands out, it can be a tough road getting discovered.

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.

You guys know one of my weaknesses is time-travel comedies.  Back To The Future is the responsible party.  I don’t know why I keep thinking I’m going to find the next Marty McFly.  Time travel is so difficult to get right.  Comedies are so difficult to get right.  So these sci-fi time travel comedies are NEVER very good, and nowhere close to the perfection that is BTTF.  And yet I continue my search!

Well, I finally found something.  Now I don’t want to get TOO excited here.  This isn’t BTTF quality (What is???).  But this Eternal Sunshine meets Adjustment Bureau comedy is the best time travel thing I’ve read in forever.  It’s really clever, really fun, and really well-written.  And best of all, it’s written by an amateur!

I knew I was in for something good right away when we see our hero, Charles, walk in front of a car, about to get plastered, then FREEZE to the title card: “48 Hours Earlier.”  Oh no, the dreaded “48 hours earlier” title card!  The thing Carson hates more than anything!  But then the “48 hours earlier” is crossed out and replaced with “48 hours later.”  Which is also crossed out.  And finally a title card appears that tells us that in the near future, time travel is a reality, and that for the right price, you can take care of hurtful past relationships that have turned you into a walking pile of sludge.

All you have to do is sign up at “Forget-Me-Nots,” the company our soon-to-be-road-kill hero, Charles, works for, and an agent will go back in time to make sure you and that guy who dumped your ass never meet in the first place.  And of course if you never meet, you never break up, so you never experience heartbreak.  Hey, sign me up!

When our story begins (or ends??), Charles is approached by a recently scorned woman, Julia, who wants to make it so that she and her ex, Tom, never meet.  Julia tells Charles how they met, and he heads back in time to make sure it never happens.  Now the rules of time travel are strict.  The governing body of time only allows people to jump for 48 hours, so Charles has to be efficient in his approach.  And he always is.  So far, he hasn’t screwed up a job yet.

But that’s about to change.  As Charles moves to prevent Julia from meeting Tom, a cute 22 year old spunky chick, Dora, bumps into him, unloading a cup of coffee onto his shirt.  She apologizes profusely as Charles tries to get away, but she insists on cleaning him up.  He fights and claws to escape, but in the end loses the battle and watches helplessly as Tom and Julia meet across the street.

No problem.  He’s missed first encounters before.  He’ll just prevent their first date from happening.  But what Charles soon finds out is that something keeps preventing him from executing his plan.  And there’s one common factor involved: Dora!  She ALWAYS seems to be around when things go south.

Charles finally confronts her and finds out that she’s a time traveler as well, and that she’s been sent here to make sure these two stay together.  Charles is pissed, but takes it as a challenge.  He’s been on dozens of trips.  This girl is a rookie.  He’ll be able to handle her no problem.

So the two start an Adjustment Bureau-like battle where they each make moves to alter fate surrounding the couple.  And every time Charles seems to have a leg up, Dora outfoxes him.  But as this time battle escalates, Charles starts to see the Tom-Julia job as secondary.  He wants to know who this Dora girl is, and who sent her here.  All of this will come to a whopper of a conclusion when we finally catch up with the opening scene that has Charles staring down death in the form of a car seconds away from crushing him.

This one was good.  Really good.

Yesterday we talked about clarity and how difficult it is for some writers to write even the most basic scene.  Keeping Time jumps between the present and the past and has multiple versions of characters and yet I knew what was going on 95% of the time (the ending does get confusing, which I’ll talk about in a sec).  For example, instead of just assuming we’d get it, Nathan will stop the script to explain the difference between “Past Charles” and “Present Charles,” so we won’t be confused by their interactions.

What I also liked about “Time” was that it kept evolving.  Every time I thought I knew where the story was going, it took a left turn.  For example, when Charles misses the first Tom-Julia encounter, he  decides to use the information she gave him back in their interview to sweep her off her feet, keeping her away from Tom in the process.  I thought, “Uh-oh.  Now we just have another version of There’s Something About Mary.”  Except when Tom tries to use her secrets against her, she stonewalls him, which confuses the hell out of Charles and left me wondering – “Wow, what now??”

Likewise with the Charles-Dora relationship.  I thought for sure these two time-travellers would battle each other to change fate and in the process fall in love!  But that doesn’t happen either.  At that point I’m thinking, “Man, this writer really knows how to craft an unpredictable story.”

And pretty soon, I found myself obsessed with finding out who Dora was and why she was here.  I had about five theories, but was never sure which one it would be.

On top of that, I felt the dialogue, for the most part, was really solid.  It wasn’t great.  It had some clunky moments.  But Charles and Dora’s back-and-forth was almost always fun to listen to.  The two had great chemistry and I’d find that even in scenes where they were just sitting at the table chatting for five pages (a scenario I tell writers to avoid all the time – two characters sitting at a table talking), I’d always be entertained.

But you know what really put me over the top?  What really got me?  This script had a theme!  I can count the number of amateur comedies I’ve read that have a theme on one hand – that were actually trying to say something!  Here, the theme was about allowing people to have the experiences in their lives, whether good or bad, because those experiences end up making them who they are.  I thought it was really well executed.

And to prove it, when the ending came, and one of the final twists arrived, I actually found myself tearing up!  And I realized that doesn’t happen by accident.  It happens because the writer was doing more than simply throwing a cool story on the page.  He created likable characters we wanted to root for.  He created interesting backstories (and forestories!).  He used a theme to add layers and depth to the script.  That’s how you emotionally affect a reader.

The only reason I didn’t raise the script to “impressive” status was the ending.  It gets a little too confusing.  I liked the ambition behind it.  But either it tries to be one level more clever than it needs to be and gets too confusing in the process, or it’s not described clearly enough.  I’m not sure which but if Nathan can fix that and improve a bunch of smaller problems in the script, this could EASILY be an impressive and get snatched up by a production company.

How much do I believe in it?  I’m going to try and convince Nathan to let me hop on as producer and push it around town.  We’ll see what happens! :)

p.s. I believe the draft I sent out to everybody was the wrong one and wasn’t spell-checked.  The one I personally read was devoid of errors.

Script link: Link taken down due to increasing interest.  Will keep people updated on my Twitter feed, @Scriptshadow!  E-mail me to read!

What I Learned: Getting back to theme, I find that one helpful way of expressing theme is to include a  scene (sometimes two) where the main characters debate both sides of the theme.  Some writers think this is too on-the-nose, but in my experience, theme does need to be announced in places for it to really catch on with the audience.  Be too subtle about it and your audience might miss it completely.  Charles and Dora have a scene in the middle of the script where they debate just that – whether it’s okay to erase our mistakes, since those mistakes are an essential part of who we are.

So over the last few weeks, you guys have seen me bring a certain term up time and time again: CLARITY.  Or, more specifically, lack there of.  Clarity isn’t as sexy to talk about as character arcs or the first act turn, but unclear writing is a way-too-common problem for beginners and low intermediates, particularly because they’re not aware it’s a problem in the first place.  Tell them you didn’t understand something, and they think the onus is on you.  They believe that if it makes sense in their heads, it should make sense in yours.

The problem is that what works inside your gray matter doesn’t always work on the page. For example, say you’re writing about a movie that jumps back and forth between Present Day and the Old West.  As the writer, you’ve been prepping this dual-time story forever.  So by the time you start, everything about it makes complete sense to you.  Your first scene, then, follows a detective walking into a murder scene.  After the scene is over, you cut to a whorehouse in the Old West.  Now to you, this cut makes perfect sense.  To a reader being introduced to the story for the first time, however, it’s confusing as hell.  How did we get from a murder scene to a 19th century brothel??? The solution to orientating the reader is quite simple.  Just insert a title card that says “1878 – The Old West.” Now the cut reads as structured and intentional, as opposed to random and bizarre.  It seems quite obvious but beginner writers often don’t know to do this.

And that’s the problem.  If a script contains as little as three or four confusing moments in the first act, the script is shot.  It gets too confusing for the reader to follow along.  I mean sure, we have a vague sense of what’s going on, but the particulars are hazy, and the particulars are what make a script a script.  Now the more I started thinking about this problem, the more I realized there weren’t any articles out there specifically addressing it.  Which seemed strange to me because it’s an issue that comes up three or four scripts a week in my reading.  Hence, why I decided to write today’s post.  I want to give writers the tools to BE CLEAR in their writing.  So here are some guidelines to follow that should keep your screenplay easy to understand.

A CLEAR GOAL – One of the simplest ways to write a clear story is to set up a big goal for your main character in the first act.  In Trouble With The Curve, we establish that Eastwood’s character must correctly scout a minor-league player or lose his job.  In yesterday’s script, The Almighty, I was never clear on what the ultimate goal was.  Stop Lucifer maybe?  But we had to get through a lot of gobbledy-gook to get to that point, and even then, I wasn’t sure if that was the ultimate goal.  So, as a beginner, instead of having a bunch of changing or shifting goals during your story, keep it simple.  Your hero should be going after one thing (Indiana Jones goes after the Ark).  Following this one rule is going to take care of most of your clarity problems.

GET RID OF UNIMPORTANT SUBPLOTS – Lots of writers will add subplots that feel completely separate from the main storyline.  So instead of enjoying them, readers spend the majority of the time trying to figure out what they’re doing there in the first place.  This detracts from the primary story (the main goal), making the story difficult to follow.  Subplots are good.  Just make sure they’re plot related.

GET RID OF UNIMPORTANT CHARACTERS – I can’t tell you how many times I stop reading a script to ask the question, “Who is this person???”  Characters that have only a minimal effect on the story should be ditched or combined with other characters.  The more characters there are in a script, the harder it is for the reader to keep track of everyone, and the more confused they get.  They’ll start mixing people up, forgetting who’s aligned with who, and just outright forget characters.  This is a big reason for reader confusion.

REMINDERS – Depending on how complicated your story is, you may need to remind your reader every once in awhile what the goal is.  Even if your story isn’t complicated, you’d be surprised at how quickly a reader can lose track of why we’re on this journey.  In The Hangover, Bradley Cooper’s character is constantly reminding us that they need to find Doug.  For simple stories, you may only need to remind the audience twice.  For complex ones, you may need to remind them as many as six times.  Feel out the complexity of your story and determine the number from there.  But a good reminder of what we’re doing and why is always helpful to the reader.

STAY AWAY FROM FLASHBACKS, FLASHFORWARDS AND DREAM SEQUENCES – In the hands of beginners, these devices are script suicide.  I’m not even sure what it is, but when new writers attempt them, they almost always occur at random times and result in total confusion.  I just read a script two weeks ago that started with a woman getting married.  The very next scene had that same girl walking into a pharmacy and flirting with a different guy.  Questions: Why was our protagonist going to a pharmacy right after her wedding?  And why was she trying to pick up a guy hours after getting married?  Eventually I figured out that this was a flashback.  But how was I supposed to know???  This kind of thing happens ALL THE TIME, even with more advanced writers.   So the best solution is to just keep your story in the present.  Use these devices if they’re necessary for telling your story (Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind).  But make sure that they’re properly notated and that there really is no other way to do it.

KEEP YOUR WRITING SIMPLE – I was just discussing this with a writer the other day.  He’d written this huge lumbering opus and peppered every paragraph with 20 adjectives and 90% more description than was needed.  Even when I did manage to understand what was being said, it felt like I’d run a marathon through quicksand.  After awhile, it became so laborious to read through even the most basic scenes, that my mind tired out, and it became difficult to follow what was going on.  Therefore, it wasn’t that the information wasn’t on the page.  It was that we had to dig through a pile of words to get there.  Do that too many times and the reader gives up.  And when that happens, your script becomes unclear by reason of exhaustion.

MAKE SURE EACH SCENE HAS A CLEAR GOAL – Believe it or not, there are tons of writers out there who can’t even write a clear scene.  ONE CLEAR SCENE.  And it’s usually because they don’t have a gameplan.  They just sort of write what comes to mind.  So make sure going into a scene that you’re doing four things.  First, make sure you have a goal for the scene.  For example, you want your two leads to meet. Second, make sure the scene moves the story forward.  In other words, the scene should be required to get your protagonist (either directly or indirectly) closer to his ultimate goal.    By “indirectly” I mean, yes, Indiana Jones wants the Ark, but the scene where he goes to Marion is required because she has a piece of the puzzle required to find the Ark.  If she doesn’t have that piece, this scene isn’t moving the story forward, and therefore isn’t needed.  Third and fourth, make sure both characters in the scene have a goal.  So in the Marion Intro scene, Indiana’s goal is to get that puzzle piece, and Marion’s goal is to keep it from him.  This basic setup should ensure that every scene you write makes sense.

IF YOU DON’T TELL US, WE WON’T KNOW – In your mind, Indiana might be standing right next to Marion, but if you don’t tell us, how are we supposed to know?  In your mind, the bar might be full of people.  But if you don’t tell us, we might assume it’s empty.  In your mind, the bad guys are in the room adjacent to our hero, ready to strike.  But if you don’t convey that, we may assume they’re in a room all the way across town.  Writers leaving out basic information is one of the quickest ways to scene confusion.  For example, I just read a script where two friends were sharing secrets about a guy named “Joe.”  But Joe was right there in the room next to them!  I was so confused.  How could they secretly be talking about a guy who was right there???  The writer later explained that Joe was actually on the other side of the room, so he couldn’t hear them. Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?  Again, it’s a matter of assumption with a lot of beginners.  They assume things are obvious.  But the reality is, if they don’t tell the reader, how the heck is the reader supposed to know?

Now in the end, sound storytelling principles have the biggest effect on clarity:  A strong goal.  A hero we want to root for.  An interesting story with exciting developments.  Escalating stakes.  If you do that, you’ll keep the reader’s interest.  If you don’t, the reader will get bored and start checking out, missing things because they’re just not into your story anymore, and hence start getting confused.  And one last thing.  When you’re finished, give your script to a friend to read and just ask them if it all makes sense.  Drill them on parts of it.  Ask them questions.  Make sure it’s all clear.  Then, and only then, should you unleash your screenplay into the world.

Genre: Action
Premise: A young man who has the ability to see manifestations of evil in people, must save the world from Lucifer.
About: Okay, so a little history on this script.  This is not a spec sale.  Nor has it been optioned to my knowledge.  I’m reviewing it because it was highly recommended to me by a reader of the site.
Writer: Dempsey Tillman
Details: 108 pages

When you’re in my position, one of the things you get used to is people referring “amazing” scripts to you that turn out to be not so amazing, usually because it’s the person who referred it’s own script.  I actually had a hilarious experience recently where a guy e-mailed me and said he’d found this dusty old screenplay at an estate sale and that it was the best thing he’d ever read and he wanted to send it to me.  So he does, and it’s a PDF document clearly printed from the Final Draft program.  I mean come on.  If you’re going to lie, at least go through the process of making the lie look legitimate.

And hey, I get it.  You gotta try everything in your power to get read.  I will say this, however.  A reader will never be as relentless as when he’s told something’s amazing and it’s not.  Nobody likes to be conned.  So it’s fake referrals like this that get the most backlash.  That’s why I suspect there will be plenty of pissed off comments today.  People want a venue to vent their frustration.  And I have a feeling it’s going to get ugly.

So what is The Almighty about?

Oscar Renfro has been seeing creepy things ever since he was a kid.  Like people turning into monsters n’ stuff.  In that sense, he’s like Cole from The Sixth Sense.  He sees ugly people.  The doctors have a perfect explanation for this.  He’s a paranoid schizophrenic.  So they prescribe him a bunch of medication and the visions kind of go away, but never disappear completely.

In fact, Oscar’s walking through the city one afternoon when a homeless man approaches him telling him he best stop taking his medication because it’s covering up his gift.  He can see evil in people, which is something he should use to save mankind.  Apparently Lucifer’s making an appearance on Earth soon and if Oscar doesn’t use his power for…something (was never quite sure what), then Lucifer’s going to take over the world.

Oscar, who works at the DMV, ignores the crazy homeless man (and I don’t blame him), but later that day while he’s supervising a driving test, the woman driver accidentally scrapes against a school bus, sending sparks into the car, which make her catch fire and burn to ashes right in front of him, freaking Oscar out!  Except five seconds later she’s totally fine.  Errrr….ummm…what???

Oscar’s boss yells at him, and Oscar realizes that the pills just aren’t helping anymore.  Afraid that he’s going to hurt his wife and son during one of these freak-out sessions, he sends them away and admits himself into a psyche ward.  But not before a demon attacks him on the bus and the video goes viral.  Now Oscar has to go on the run, since everyone wants to know what the crazy demon-fight was all about.

Enter a dude called THE MESSENGER.  The Messenger really really really – like really really wants Oscar to accept his powers.  He tells him that Lucifer’s coming to steal his secret ability to see the bad in people (The devil doesn’t have this ability himself????) and once he does, he’ll be able to take over the world.  I think.

From that point on, for the final 50 pages, I truthfully have no idea what happened.  It was as if 20 random stories were thrown into a blender and spat out into one long 50 page action sequence.  I take notes when I read these scripts so I can keep track of the plot, and there was a point late in the story where I wrote, “Mom sucked into vortex.”  It was time to say goodbye to The Almighty, referral and all.

Something I’d like to remind people is that Hollywood is a VERY liberal town.  Look no further than the recent Chik-Fil-A spat as proof.  If there’s one thing that there’s a strong resistance to here, it’s a heavy Christian agenda.  So when you write an entire screenplay that’s clearly pushing that Christian agenda, chances are it’s going to be met with fire and brimstone.

I know, I know.  The Passion Of The Christ made a bazillion dollars, but nobody in town wanted to distribute that movie.  It was only because of Mel Gibson’s star power that it got out there.  So before even getting into the mechanics of this one, I kinda feel like this type of script is dead in the water.

Put plainly, The Almighty felt like a cliche jumble of ideas with no plot.  While at first I was able to decipher some semblance of a story, the script continued to get more and more confusing as it went on.  This happens a lot with amateur writers who spend a ton of time on the first 30 pages, but maybe 1/4, even 1/8 the time on their last 80.  And it shows.  I literally had NO IDEA what was happening after the midpoint.

Lucifer was coming to earth for some reason.  He needed the power of someone who could see evil to take over the planet?  Lucifer can’t see the evil in people himself?  I’m already confused.  Then there was this guy called The Messenger, who may or may not have also been the cliche Homeless Guy spouting out end of the world sermons at the beginning of the story.  The Messenger spends most of his time reminding Oscar how great God is.

The Messenger also, a la The Ghost Of Christmas Past, takes Oscar back to witness his childhood to learn some valuable lessons or something.  Some Fallen Angels show up, intent on kicking ass.  Oscar’s best friend, Cole, turns into Lucifer for some reason, but not by himself.  He becomes Lucifer in conjunction with his jail cell mate, so they both speak at the same time in Lucifer’s voice??

Random people, like the police detective, become Lucifer too – I think.  There’s a ton of bible gobbledy-gook spoken, about how “He” is our savior and “He” will make everything all right, and then lots of quotes from the bible, I think.  All of this is a big deal because Oscar doesn’t believe in God, even though he sees demons on a daily basis.

I don’t know.  After that, it just turns into this huge melee of confusingness.  I rarely knew where we were or why.  They need to take the Messenger to the hospital or something.  Cole, who was Lucifer, is no longer Lucifer.  Lucifer jumps into a bunch of other bodies.  Oscar has to find him and stop him.  Reading the final act was a bit like drinking a case of beer and being taught Calculus and Spanish simultaneously by a Chinese speed-talker.

I hate to beat a dead horse but this comes down to the same old same old – the writing isn’t clear.  It’s confusing.  The writer knows what’s going on in his head.  But he hasn’t yet learned the tools necessary to convey those thoughts in a coherent manner to the reader.  Therefore everything feels random and confusing.

You need to go back to basics.  A clear goal that the main character is going after.  Establish someone on earth as Lucifer.  Then establish that the main character is going to have to kill him.  That way, we understand the objective of the story right away.  KISS folks.  Keep things simple stupid until you have a grasp on the craft.  To be honest, I didn’t think The Almighty was that bad at first.  It wasn’t until the non-sensical second half that I had no choice but to give it the lowest rating. :(

What I learned: Recently, a writer chastised my consulting notes because I “missed things,” many of which he detailed in a rebuttal document.  When a script is written clearly, the writer has a point.  But when it isn’t, the writer has no idea how difficult it can be to follow along.  For example, if the reader doesn’t understand what happened in the last four scenes, if he doesn’t know who these three new characters are, if he doesn’t know how any of the characters are related to each other, if he doesn’t understand why we keep cutting to a character on a train who never becomes part of the story, if he can’t keep up with the time jumping since the writer never notates it, if it takes 2-3 read-throughs on every scene just to understand what’s going on… then the reader’ll be lucky to catch 40% of the details on the page.  Which brings me to my point.  If something is wrong, it is NEVER the reader’s fault.  Maybe the reader did tune out and miss something.  But it’s your job as the writer to figure out why you the reader tuned out in the first place.  So any time you’re told, “This didn’t work” about your screenplay, don’t fight it.  Figure out what you did wrong and fix it.